Chapter 21
FLAMES LICKED AT THE PARCHMENT, blackening the surface and curling the edges as it burned.
I lunged and grabbed the remnants. Falling on my knees, I cried out as I frantically smacked handfuls of soil to smother the fire, words and routes rapidly disappearing as embers ate their way across the kingdom, across the world, across any hope I had of rescuing Zig.
The whisper of the destruction and the crackling of ruined paper filled my ears, drowning out the chaos around me.
Hot air and smoke blew into my face. My vision blurred with tears as the map fragmented between my dirt-smudged fingertips, the smaller pieces turning to cinders and ash as the breeze picked up and carried them away.
“No!”
My voice cracked in desperation and pain. All that remained were burned tatters. The map was unsalvageable, unreadable, unusable, gone.
“Ellinore,” someone said behind me, grabbing the edge of my leather cuirass and tugging. “We have to go!”
“No!” I cried, clawing at the dirt, gathering the remaining slivers of parchment.
The person yanked me away with force, hauling me upward. “We have to leave! Or we have no chance.”
I wrenched away from them and picked up my sword from where I’d dropped it on the ground, the leather-wrapped hilt digging into the burns on my hands. Through the smear of my tears I spied Lord Ethan running. I released a guttural noise of fury and surged forward.
“Ellinore!” the person yelled, holding on, their boots scuffing through the dirt as they restrained me. “Ellinore! Zig needs you!”
That broke through my haze of wrath, and I shook my head, taking in my surroundings.
The forest was on fire, the fallen torch having lit everything around it.
The flames spread quickly through the pine needles, the fire licking up the trunks of the trees, the very ground molten.
The guards ran in circles like startled chickens, gathering what they could before the flames consumed it all.
I blinked, tears running down my hot cheeks, as Aven released my armor and grabbed my wrist instead, dragging me behind them. They had picked up a short sword at some point, but they didn’t need it. Everyone was running from the flames.
We emerged from the burning trees, choking on smoke, to find the other three already mounted and ready. Aven jumped up onto Mouse and hauled me up to join them. They took my sword from my limp grip, and I settled behind them, curling my burned hands toward my body.
I hid my face between Aven’s shoulder blades as they shouted at the others and we tore away from the devastation.
I cast one last glance at the burning pines, gray smoke billowing in large columns upward, and noted the irony that it was smoke that had drawn us there and smoke that marked our departure.
Aven found Bluebell where we’d left her and grabbed her bridle.
They turned in the saddle, their face covered in ash, their expression drawn in concern, and offered me the leather reins and the chance to dismount.
My mind was blank. I couldn’t process what had happened, much less ride.
I shook my head, then tucked myself against Aven’s back.
If Aven was surprised, they didn’t show it. They lashed Bluebell to Mouse, and we rode toward the port town.
I was grateful; I didn’t want to leave the comfort of pressing my cheek to their shoulder. Closing my eyes, allowing the tears to stream in angry rivulets, I buried my sobs in the fabric of their tunic.