Chapter 38
brielle watches, powerless to stop Tanith’s fall from the sky.
Her own drake streaks after Tanith, Brielle clinging on as the force of the dive loosens her from the drake’s back, snatching her breath away.
She grips the reins, each inevitable thump of her heart charting Tanith’s end.
Tanith collides with the earth north of the main town, flattening a deserted field.
The air whomps in her ears as Brielle’s drake slows her descent, wings braced and pumping the air as she hovers, readying to set down beside her.
Brielle leaps off as soon as the ground is close enough, rolling to spring to her feet, already running before her drake lands.
The battle of the sea, the storm localised over the armada, slips away as Brielle takes in the bleeding mass of Tanith’s flank. She stutters at the horror wrought by the wyverns’ raking claws and … worse … she’s still alive. Feeling every moment of this agony.
‘No …’ Brielle breathes, sinking to her knees beside Tanith’s jaws.
Tanith’s eyes roll back as she huffs steam through her nose, then they close.
The drake that carried Brielle moves closer, inspecting the length of her body, huffing, before a mournful rumble emanates from her throat.
She hunkers down beside Tanith, and Brielle wipes a tear from her eye.
The mournful cry from her drake sounds melodious, as though her drake is singing a death song.
A shadow ripples across the field and Nova streaks over the grass then Eli steps out of it, Joby releasing his hand as soon as they’re through.
He runs for Tanith, sprinting across the field as Eli strides forward, trailing shadow in his wake.
Brielle looks at them both, assessing them quickly.
Injured from the skirmishes on the sea, but still in fighting shape.
Not yet defeated. But this … this could end Joby.
Brielle can see it in his eyes. The terror of loss, the shock of a love ripped away too soon, before they’ve had a real chance to explore it.
She shifts back, moving to stand and give him space as Eli stops beside her.
‘Her wounds …’ he says quietly.
‘Too extensive to heal,’ Brielle replies. ‘In her drake form. She does not have long.’
Eli pulls in a haggard breath, running a bloodied hand down his face. ‘A great loss.’
Joby moves closer, placing a hand on the corner of Tanith’s jaw, bowing his head over her.
Brielle’s heart breaks for him as his shoulders begin to shake.
Two more drakes set down behind her and she turns, finding Dreska being lowered to the ground, bow still gripped in her fist, then Inesh, refusing help, leaping down from the drake’s back as Brielle did, hair unbound and wild all around her.
A hunter born, that one.
Brielle looks down to see Nova at her feet. ‘Indeed. If she sees the end of this battle, if I do, I will train her. Dreska as well – she has the same fierce spirit.’
It’s not like you to consider failure, Brielle, Nova says. I’m here to collect them. Lowri needs them both. She needs three to complete her work on the wards.
‘Take them,’ Brielle says. ‘Lor is well?’
Nova blinks. She has the blood of Tanith as her catalyst. My witch is power incarnate.
Brielle releases a steady breath. ‘Good. I’ve – I’ve missed her.’
And she you. Survive to see each other in the flesh, Hunter.
Then Nova stalks to Inesh and Dreska, whipping round their ankles. Brielle nods to them, whispering the witch words to send them to the castle, and they all vanish in pockets of light.
‘Is there any hope for Tanith?’ Eli asks, turning solemnly to Brielle.
She regards him, the clear signs of battle, the worry pinching his features, his eyes, troubled and deep, too old for such a young face. The weight of this too, this moment, this death … Is there a way to save Tanith? If only Tanith was in her human form, then perhaps, just maybe.
‘Can Joby coax her to become human, as he once did before?’ she asks.
‘There are still tales among the drake riders of what he did, how she transformed for him. Their story has become legend in the Spines. If she can transform again, despite not remembering him, despite her wounds, then there could be a chance for her. I can traverse with her to the castle and work on healing her.’
Eli is quiet for a moment, contemplative. ‘Sometimes, it is not the memories that bind us together. It is when two souls call to one another across time and space, across lifetimes. It is beyond memory, beyond our understanding. It’s when two souls are cleaved into one.’
Brielle’s breath catches and she nods. ‘Let us hope you are right.’
Eli goes to Joby, placing a hand on his shoulder, and speaks quietly to him. Joby’s shoulders relax and he grasps Eli’s arm before Eli steps away, allowing him the space.
‘He’s going to try,’ Eli says as he comes back and stands next to Brielle. ‘He’s going to talk to her as he did when they first met, when he freed her. He’s going to lead her back. To see if there’s a way they can find that bond again.’
Joby sits by Tanith’s side, turned towards her, and begins talking to her, weaving the tale of the first time they met, in the Spines.
Brielle dashes another tear from the corner of her eye and looks to the sky, then the sea.
The drakes are still chasing the wyvern, witches firing arrows and crossbows at their eyes.
But there are so many in this swarm, and already the drakes are weakening from their constant harrying.
A wyvern is hit, falling from the clouds, and lands in the sea, slopping a wave that topples a small merchant vessel in the enemy’s fleet.
Brielle shapes a fist, but the victory is short-lived.
Five wyvern form a dive formation then swoop for one of Eli’s ships, their claws raking at the deck, bodies falling into the water.
Eli stiffens, the shadows around him intensifying.
‘Hunter, I must go. My fleet, my crews …’
Brielle nods. ‘Leave this with me.’
Eli turns to her. ‘The Tresillian witches have never been as strong as now. May your magic stay true.’
Then, with a tortured glance towards Joby and Tanith, he’s gone, stepping backwards into shadow.
When Brielle looks over to the fleet and the armada, she sees a swirl of shadow appearing then reforming, over and over, as people from his crew are dropped back on the ship from the gaping maw of the ocean.
Of course. He chooses to save his people over fighting the enemy.
He chooses individual lives over a bloody victory.
A true leader. She blows out a breath. And now he’s left two of his inner circle in her hands, entrusted her with their precious lives. She cannot fail him, cannot fail them.
Looking to the skies, she sees Skanni take down another wyvern, slowly gaining the advantage.
One drake takes out three with a plume of flame, their smoking carcasses descending to crash into an enemy ship.
But it’s not enough. There are still too many.
They cannot come to Brielle’s aid. It’s all down to her.
She looks back at Joby, his hand on Tanith’s scales, a pool of dark blood growing under her.
She’s breathing out steam, her eyes fluttering closed, and she knows that even if Joby does coax Tanith into her human form she may not survive.
Her wounds may be too great. Brielle needs to buy them both time.
She strides forward, crouching beside Joby. Tanith doesn’t even flinch at a hunter, a witch, so close to her. A worrisome sign. ‘I’m going to work on her here, Joby. You keep talking to her, keep her calm.’
He nods, barely looking at her and continues telling a story in his soft burr. She rises, moving round him to Tanith’s flank, assessing the deepest wounds. She is no healer. But she knows the basics of the witch magic from her training … Maybe it’ll be enough. It has to be.
She leans down, placing a hand on Tanith’s glistening bronze scales, and closes her eyes.
She forms the witch words she knows for healing, for life and mending and hope.
She pours her magic in, sensing the flow and pull of her blood, pumped by her heart, the slow trickle of her life waning.
She imagines stitching, weaving. Binding Tanith back together, pulling her raked flesh back together.
Tanith chuffs, claws pawing the ground and Brielle remembers the burning sensation of having a deep wound sewn up.
So she channels cool, a breeze of winter chill, the first frost of the season, and Tanith huffs in what sounds like relief.
Brielle pulls back her hand, opens her eyes and sees the wounds have stopped bleeding.
Then Joby chokes out a gasp and Tanith begins to transform.
Her drake flanks shrink, her whole being growing smaller and smaller, until her scales seem to disintegrate entirely.
And there, in its place, is a young woman.
Slightly different from how Tanith first appeared as a human, now with shorter bronze hair, scales still glistening more obviously over her skin.
She curls on her side and Joby gently lifts her into his arms. She says quietly, ‘I remember you … from before. We know each other, don’t we? ’
Joby releases a shuddering breath, blinking down at her. ‘We do, Tanith. We do.’
Just then, there is a roar from the sky, a drake cry echoing across the isle.
Brielle’s breath catches in her throat. The drakes and their witches are victorious.
The few wyvern left are fleeing into the thunderous clouds, shrieking with rage as they fly.
But, below, she finds the armada regrouping, breaking through Eli’s fleet to reach the shores of Ennor.
Soon it’ll be a battle for the land. Brielle has to get Tanith back to the castle, and soon.
She moves towards Joby and holds out her own arms. ‘May I?’
Joby turns to her, features drawn in lines of fear, and Brielle knows he doesn’t want to hand Tanith over. But he relents, pouring her slender frame gently into Brielle’s arms. ‘I will meet you at the castle. After … If …’
‘Go and fight,’ Brielle says firmly. ‘Trust me now with her. Fight for the time I’ll need to heal her.’
Neither of them say it, but if that armada reaches the land invasion is inevitable. They do not have the forces to resist them. Now it is about fortifying the castle, drawing everyone vulnerable back, and just hoping that Lowri and their fledglings can succeed with reforming the wards.
‘Hunter, I owe you a life debt,’ Joby rumbles softly, grasping her shoulder. ‘If I do not see you again, safe travels in this life and the next.’
Brielle fractures slightly, but holds it all inside as she nods, then whispers the witch word and traverses.
The last thing she sees is Joby’s face, hope lifting his features, before he’s crossing back towards the town, to the final battle that could end them all.