CHAPTER ELEVEN
I let my gaze zip around, looking—
There.
The torches on the front of the rise were lit, signaling that intruders were heading right for the city doors. My stomach sank. “We—”
Talon whooshed by me so fast I felt a brush of air across my face and hair.
All right.
Swearing, I made a mad dash for the garrison just as armed officiates began pouring out of it.
I boxed away the dread that tried gripping my gut and stilling my thoughts.
There was no time to panic, no time to worry; I had to reach for that battle-state of mind I’d learned to adopt since being plunged into Xalbia.
Inside the garrison, I joined the fast-moving line of people who were taking weapons from the armory. A sense of battle-readiness rolled off the officiates and even some of the candidates. Others were a mass of anxiety.
Just in case the intruders managed to scale the walls, I nabbed a scythe as well as a bow and quiver of arrows, just as I had last time.
Falling into the line of people rushing out of the garrison, I joined them in tearing across the bailey to the staircase near the front wall.
Boots hammered on the stone steps as we raced up to the battlements.
Reaching the top, I frowned in surprise. “They’re not here yet?” I asked the person closest to me.
Keyes’ eyes met mine. “No. This is possibly the worst route they could have taken. There are more beasts guarding this part of the Pines—they’re already attacking, picking off numbers.”
Yes, I could hear them. Hear growls, roars, snarls, and the avian-like shrieks. It all made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Whoever sent them would have anticipated this, so why go for a frontal attack?”
Keyes pursed his lips. “My guess? They thought all the trees would provide them with so much cover that their presence wouldn’t be noted until it was too late.”
As Ajax ordered us all into position on the battlements, I balanced the scythe against the short wall in front of me and then reached back to swipe an arrow from the quiver.
A little out of breath from all the dashing around, I dragged in a long, centering inhale as I made an effort to steady my breathing.
I strained to see beyond the tree canopies to get a glimpse of what we were facing. More hounds? More lamiae? Something else?
It was impossible to tell.
Urgency pounding through my system, I angled my bow downwards, attached the arrow to the string, and then pointed the bow toward the enemies I couldn’t yet see. I didn’t release the arrow, though. Like everyone else, I waited for the signal from Talon.
At the moment, the Cardinal stood in the center of the battlement, his fist held up in a gesture to wait. And so we did.
Archers held their bows steady. Phoenixians conjured orbs of cold air. Officiates who were manning catapults put flaming rocks in place. Delphiae held themselves stiffly as sparks of energy played over their palms. Other officiates readied the bubbling cauldrons, tossing this and that into them.
The animalistic sounds coming from the forest became louder and louder as the trespassers came closer and closer. And then, finally, they reached the part of the forest where the trees were more thinly spread.
As I got a look at our enemies, I felt my lips flatten.
The hounds were back, galloping through the forest. Again, they had company.
Not lamiae this time, though. Running among the seemingly never-ending number of dogs were hundreds of bulky, tusked, gray-skinned humanoids.
Orks. All carried either axes, spears, swords, or hammers.
Various Deimos-beasts pursued the intruders. Bears covered in black scales. Tall, shaggy, ape-like humanoids. Overly large birds that were somewhat similar to white screech owls.
Talon whistled loud and then slammed down his arm.
Everyone acted as a unit.
Arrows, orbs, and huge flaming rocks hurtled through the sky. Blasts of lilac Delphiae-energy rippled outwards. Gold lashings of power poured from Talon’s fingertips in crackling snaps.
Unease tried beating at me, but I put away every emotion; focused on the battle, shooting one ork after another, deeming them the biggest threat. Some arrowheads sank into eyes. Others into heads, shoulders, or chests.
The enemies stumbled under our well-coordinated attack. Bodies dropped. Crawled. Writhed. Staggered to their feet only to collapse again.
The damage was done fast, furiously, and messily. The cacophony of noise was horrendous—all pain and fury and power.
The resident beasts of this area of the Pines were tireless in their determination to take down the enemy.
The bears barreled into foes and knocked orks off their feet with a mere swipe of their large paws.
The overgrown spiked owls soared through the air, swiping out with their hooked talons.
The ape-like humanoids wrapped their arms around orks or hounds, crushing their bodies so tight bones cracked.
The orks retaliated brutally—slamming hammers on skulls, burying axes into backs, stabbing spears into hearts, and slicing open stomachs with swords. The hounds were just as savage, biting and clawing and lashing out with their tails.
Meanwhile, we picked them off.
Their numbers kept falling, but they never faltered. They kept moving, fighting, lashing out.
And then they were charging at the stone wall.
I aimed an arrow right at an approaching ork, burying it in the humanoid’s eye. I reached back to retrieve another arrow. Nothing. “Shit.”
A sudden weight fell into the quiver. I looked to see that Talon was walking around conjuring arrows and slamming them into empty quivers. Wishing I had that impressive ability, I nocked another arrow and then fired.
Officiates and candidates continued fighting hard while orks and dogs roared and cried out in pain, unable to dodge the onslaught.
Arrows lanced through their chests. Rocks smashed their skulls.
Balls of cold air slammed into them. Energy blasts knocked them off their feet.
Golden whips of power reduced them to ashes.
But the intruders didn’t tuck tail and run.
The dogs made a beeline for the curtain wall, despite having no ability to climb it.
They leaped, their claws raking at the stone.
The orks followed behind them and went at the wall, slamming it with weapons like they thought they could chip away at and weaken its structure.
I flicked a quick look at Keyes. “Is there any chance of them forming cracks in the stone?”
“No, not one,” he replied. “But orks aren’t the sharpest of tools.”
Indeed they weren’t, because in coming so close, they were only making it easier for us to take them out. Case in point: Bubbling cauldrons were tipped, raining down pure pain with burning liquid, fats, and sand.
Yelps and cries sounded from below … and something else. Something that didn’t come from below, though. It came from further out. From up.
I squinted as dozens of shapes came into view in the sky up ahead. Winged, two-legged serpentine shapes. My stomach bottomed out. “Shit, wyverns.”
Keyes swore. “There are no beasts here who can take on wyverns in the sky.”
I jolted as Talon once more refilled my quiver before moving on to the next person, whizzing forwards and backwards with his enhanced speed.
Studying the approaching creatures, I blew out a breath and nocked yet another arrow.
I didn’t release it, since they were too far away.
Instead, I studied them. There were a dozen or so—wyvern armies were generally small, since their numbers were just as small—but that was enough to cause horrific damage.
At least they couldn’t breathe fire like dragons. Unfortunately, wyverns were still lethal with their massive jaws, hooked claws, and stinger tails. Still, I doubted Talon would shift and deal with them in his dragon form unless more appeared.
“Aim for their wings!” Ajax yelled. “Put them on the ground!”
We struck as a unit. Instantly, one wyvern burst into ashes as a golden whip whacked into it. Two were taken down by the oil-covered rocks that were propelled through the air. Others faltered as arrows sank into their wings or scales.
The rest bulleted through the air toward us.
My heart leapt as I noticed Khalida join many other sword-wielding Phoenixians in flying out to meet the wyverns. Shit, shit, shit.
Forcing myself to shut my panic down, I nocked another arrow. Fired. Nocked. Fired. Nocked. Fired. Wyverns who fell to the ground were savagely attacked by bears and strix and ape-like humanoids.
Realizing I was fresh out of arrows, I cursed. Preoccupied with zapping wyverns, Talon wouldn’t have a moment to refill our quivers again. I dropped both my bow and quiver and then grabbed my scythe.
Firmly gripping the long wooden-handle, I lifted the curved blade right as a wyvern soared toward us. It stopped just short of the battlement and whipped out its long tail, knocking several officiates down—they toppled forward, backward, or sideward.
One of them was Layna.
My heart stopped, and I sucked in a sharp breath as she fell forwards and over the wall. A Phoenixian zoomed toward her at top speed, his arms outstretched.
He didn’t make it to her in time.
She landed on the clump of broken bodies below and … yeah, no, she wasn’t going to survive that. I knew she hadn’t when the Phoenixian yelled out his rage, lifting her limp form before the beasts could take her.
My belly did a nauseating roll. Fighting to swallow the lump in my throat, I zeroed in on the offending wyvern … just as Talon’s crackling whips pelted one of its wings. Said wing crumpled, and the creature screeched as it then hurtled to the ground.
Grim satisfaction lanced through me. I couldn’t believe it had killed—
No, I couldn’t think about that. Not now. Not here. The backs of my eyes burning, I trained my attention on the other wyverns as they came at us.