CHAPTER 37 TYCHO
TYCHO
Nakiis isn’t awake, but he’s still breathing, and when I rest my hand over his, the warmth of his skin pulses into mine.
His wings are limply splayed across the ground, but they flicker a little when I touch him.
I knew the moment his magic started to fade during the battle, because it no longer felt like a blizzard lived inside my veins, and instead began to feel like the dwindling winter winds that bite at your cheeks just before spring.
I’m very aware of Grey and the others in the barn around me, and I’m sure he wants to discuss a battle strategy, but just now I can’t think past the fact that taking Nakiis’s magic caused this.
“Did I do this to him?” I say to Igaa, and my voice is hushed.
“No,” she says, but I don’t believe her.
Then Nakiis’s voice speaks to my thoughts, though his eyes don’t open. — I gave what I could, young magesmith. You needed it more than I did.
I glance up at Igaa, thinking of the storms, the lightning, the magic that swirled through the clearing and held the scravers at bay.
I think of the way Nakiis didn’t want to give me any of it— and in the end, he forced me to take it.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I look up to find Jax. He drops to sit on his heels beside me.
“Can you help him?” he says softly.
“I don’t think so,” I say, and my voice is rough and worn. I have to swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Can I help him?” Grey says from behind me.
“Can we ?” says the queen. She’s taken Callyn’s hand, and they’re all looking down at the broken scraver.
At that, Nakiis’s eyes flick open. In the shadows, they’re so dark, but they pick up a glint of light from somewhere.
— No one can help me.
“Can I give it back to you?” I say desperately. “This is my fault. There must be a way. Can I—”
“Tycho,” Nakiis says, and his voice is barely more than a rasp. “Xovaar did this. Not you.”
“But you didn’t want to do this. You could’ve had more time. You could’ ve—”
“We’re all forced to make choices we don’t want to make . . .” His voice trails off in a rasp, and he reverts to mind- speech. — Haven’t you learned this yet? I feel certain your king has.
I swallow thickly. My eyes feel hot.
“Xovaar is coming,” Igaa says. “I can feel his power on the wind.” She looks toward the barn doors. “I can hear the horses.”
Nakiis’s black eyes lock on mine. — Do not grieve yet. There is work to be done.
The tone of his voice in my head has his usual irony, and it’s enough to choke back my emotion, just for a moment.
But he holds my gaze, and I realize what he’s not saying.
He doesn’t have much magic left. The help he already gave was likely all he had to offer.
I give his hand a squeeze. “Thank you, friend,” I say softly.
His clawed hands wrap around my fingers, surprising in their strength. “Keep her safe,” he says, the words so soft they’re barely audible.
“I will,” I say. “I swear it.”
His eyes flicker closed, and he lets me go.
I don’t waste time. I look back at Igaa. “You can hear them? How far?”
“And how many?” says Grey.
“Less than a mile,” she says, and my heart slams hard against my ribs. That’s a matter of minutes. I don’t know how much time I was expecting, but it was more than that.
“Captain,” Grey is calling to Malin in Emberish. “Call them in.”
But Malin is already at the door.
Alek has drawn close. “How many ?” he repeats to Igaa in Syssalah.
“I have no way to count,” she says. “Many horses.”
Grey looks to Sephran. “How many did you face in Gaulter?” he says in Emberish.
“At least four dozen,” Sephran says.
Grey looks to me, and I nod. “Armed,” I say. “Mostly Syhl Shallow nobility and private soldiers.”
“With Lady Karyl?” says Queen Lia Mara.
“And her magic,” Alek says grimly.
Once the other Emberish soldiers make it into the barn, they all gather to stand at attention and await the king’s orders. Grey’s five, plus Malin, Sephran, and Leo. Jax and I stand beside the king and queen, with Alek and Callyn just to our right.
Fourteen of us to stand against fifty. Maybe more.
I watch Grey scan the people in the barn the way he did earlier. Assessing readiness and willingness. Leo looks all right, but he didn’t fight through the battle. Malin and Sephran look rough and worn— but determined. Alek looks a little pale.
Grey’s eyes stop on the horses, still tethered in the corner, then skip back to me. His voice is very quiet. “What do they want, Tycho?” he says in Syssalah. “Do they want to kill me?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not just you anymore,” says Alek.
We both look over.
“It’s anyone with magic,” he says. He presses a hand to his side and winces.
“Do they know it’s me?” says the queen.
He shakes his head. “They have their suspicions, but they don’t know for sure.”
“Do they know it’s me?” Callyn whispers.
Alek reaches out a hand and clasps hers. “No.”
But they know it’s me. I swallow.
Grey looks at Igaa. “How far now?”
“Less than half a mile, perhaps.”
He turns to the queen and presses a kiss to her lips.
But it’s only for a moment before he pulls away.
His voice goes very soft. “I am very glad you sent word. You have my heart. Tell Sinna I love her.” Then he looks to Callyn.
“Take care of my wife and daughter.” He looks to his soldiers.
“Keep them safe,” he says in Emberish, the words sharp like an order. “Do not follow me.”
He turns away, heading for the horses.
Lia Mara sucks in a breath, but she slaps a hand over her mouth as if to stop herself from crying out.
My heart stops. I suddenly realize what he’s doing.
And I realize what I have to do.
I turn to Jax, whose eyes are a little wide, his breathing a little quick. Before I can think about this too carefully, I press a kiss to his lips.
“You have my heart,” I whisper. “Be safe.”
Then I turn and follow Grey to the horses.
“Tycho,” he says behind me, and there’s sorrow in his voice, but anger, too. “Tycho.”
It tugs at my chest and nearly makes me turn back around. I think of what Nakiis just said. Do not grieve yet. There is work to be done.
He was right. We really are forced to make choices we don’t want to make.
The Truthbringers aren’t going to stop coming after our magic until they eliminate it. Maybe we’ve been prolonging the battle all this time, when we really should’ve been yielding.
My heartbeat is a roar in my ears, but I stop beside Mercy. She noses at my hands, looking for caramels, just like always. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to her. “I’m sorry.” But I’m not apologizing to her. Not really.
Grey takes one of the other horses. His eyes meet mine as he swings aboard. “Are you sure?” he says.
I don’t have a voice, but I’m not sure of anything.
I do know I can’t watch everyone I love die, just because the king and I have magic.
I can’t watch him sacrifice himself alone.
I nod fiercely.
But then, when I swing aboard Mercy, I realize Jax has followed me to the horses, and he’s pulling himself into the saddle of the third.
“Get down,” I say, the words sharper than an order.
“They don’t know who else has magic. This gives them time to get away. I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No one can leave me behind,” he snaps, quoting my words right back to me. “Not anymore. Never again.”
I stare at him, my chest heaving. I don’t know what to say.
In my silence, his feet find the stirrups and he arranges the reins like he’s been riding all his life.
“Tycho,” says the king. “Now.” My breath catches. Everyone is staring at us. Callyn and the queen are together, clutching each other’s hands. Alek is beside them. Malin is staring at me, and it’s clear that he knows what we’re doing. If I meet his gaze, I don’t know if I’ll be able to do this.
Wind swirls through the barn, and I shiver. It’s not my magic.
Xovaar.
If I don’t do this, they’re all going to die.
“Go,” says Jax, nodding past me. “I’ll be right behind you.”
I gather my reins, then move to follow Grey one last time.
The clouds have shifted, leaving the sky blazing with sunlight, bursts of bright blue visible through the tree branches.
After the wild morning of rainstorms, blizzards, and lightning, it’s bizarre to experience weather that’s suddenly so peaceful.
Honestly, it’s bizarre to ride down the lane with Grey and Jax.
I know we’re expecting to surrender to a massive crowd of Truthbringers who want to kill us, but right now we’re completely alone. It could be any other summer day.
Especially when Grey glances over at Jax and says, “You’ve grown into yourself, haven’t you?”
Jax looks startled, but then he shrugs, as if abashed. “I— yes, Your Majesty. Thanks to the soldiers, I suppose.”
“It wasn’t just the soldiers.”
Jax blushes.
But then Grey says, “I heard you beat Rhen at cards, too. That’s good. He needs a little comeuppance.”
Jax chokes on a short laugh. “Well. Just the once.”
“I regret that I won’t be able to see it myself.”
I scoff under my breath. I can’t believe they’re having a normal conversation.
Grey looks at Jax, and a light sparks in his eye. “Tycho thinks we should be serious,” he says, very seriously.
Jax affects a stern disposition. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
I let out a breath through my teeth and flick my eyes skyward— though I suppose I do appreciate their attempts at levity. “Maybe I should just kill you both and get this over with.”
Jax laughs under his breath. But then the king looks over at him. “Grey,” he says, any teasing gone from his voice. He puts out a hand. “If we’re going to die together, it should be on a first- name basis.”
Jax’s breath catches, but only for a moment. Then he puts out his own hand to clasp the king’s.
“Grey,” he says, and his voice is only a little breathy.
Then he lets go, and it’s as if sudden emotion captures all three of us. For a moment, a wave of . . . of regret washes over us, and it’s like even the horses can feel it. All three of the animals seem to want to whirl to return to the barn. I give Mercy’s rein a twitch and urge her forward.
“All right,” I say, fighting for the same levity, though I’m never the one to bring lighthearted humor to any occasion. “Go back to joking about our impending doom.”
Grey looks at Jax. “What did it feel like to punch Alek? I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”
Jax grins. “You should’ve let me do it again.”
“Why do you think I let you do it the first time?”
That finally makes me laugh— but then my heart gives a tug, choking off the sound almost before it starts.
This is the kind of moment I’ve always longed for, where family and friendship and love all twisted together in my heart .
. . and now it’s going to be over in a matter of minutes. In a matter of seconds.
I swallow.
“He was trying to apologize,” Jax says, musing, and that gets my attention.
I look over. “To you?”
He nods.
Grey looks at him. “You didn’t want to hear it?”
“No.” Then he grimaces. “Maybe I should have let him.”
“Why?” says Grey. “Forgiveness is earned, not owed.” He pauses as if he wants to say something else, but then he thinks better of it. The weight of unspoken words hangs between us, and it takes me a moment to figure it out.
Alek won’t have a chance to earn forgiveness.
“Do we have a plan?” I say softly.
“I do,” says Grey. “But if they have a scraver, they’ll hear it.”
A cool breeze winds between the trees, and then a voice finds us.
— Yes, magesmith. I will.
My hands grip tight to the reins. I scan the trees overhead, but see nothing. The woods are dense here, and it’s midsummer, and the lane is narrow.
I first taught Jax to shoot an arrow just near here. I could close my eyes and remember that day in the snow, folding my hand around his, listening to the sound of his breath, feeling those first flickers of attraction and desire and being so unsure if I could trust my heart.
But I don’t close my eyes. I keep them open, and I follow the king, and we reach the end of the lane, turning south to follow the road out of Briarlock.
Instead of an empty road, we find ourselves facing an army.