48. When the City Bleeds
When the City Bleeds
Darien
The air was thick with the angry shrieks of draugrs , Anara’s howls, the shouts of the Vienám, the curses of sentries, and the screams of dying men.
Darien hardened his heart, desperate to block out the sounds that he knew would forever haunt his mind.
He threw his fist into the sentry nearest him and slammed the butt of his gun against the back of the man’s head.
The sentry fell to the ground, unmoving but, Darien prayed, still alive.
He didn’t check to see if the man rose again.
These were his people, even if they didn’t want to be. He couldn’t kill them.
But the blood he slipped in only solidified that others were not so hesitant in their death strokes. Larissa’s hand snaked out, grabbing his arm and stopping Darien mid-fall. Her golden eyes held his, a refuge in the turmoil around them.
“I’ve got you, Dar.”
He grasped her arm, spinning to stand back-to-back with her to wait for the next surge, but none came.
Darien’s breath came in pants. He used the respite to survey the battle around him.
Though the sentries fell quickly, more continued to pour down the streets.
To make matters worse, the draugrs were pushing back on the Vienám, undoing all of the forward movement they had made.
Darien hadn’t yet seen Omiros, the Regent of Safír, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t somewhere in the tumult.
A familiar shout caught Darien’s attention. Farther ahead, Haki and Jari battled one of the draugrs . Anara flung herself toward the creature as Masai attacked it from behind, swinging his staffs with remarkable precision.
“We have to help them!” Larissa called out.
Darien’s response was lost in a dark shadow that blocked out the light of the sun.
Looking up, he caught the flash of obsidian scales and bat-like wings.
He shoved Larissa to the side, rolling beside her.
He reached for his sword even as he rose to face the draugr that landed in front of them.
Larissa’s hands shot forward, glowing as her galdr caught hold of the creature.
It screeched in rage. Darien raised his sword, but movement caught his eye.
Behind Larissa, a sentry raised his gun, its barrel pointed at her back. Darien turned toward her, knowing he would never make it in time.
A golden-white hawk fell from the sky, diving into the sentry’s face.
The sentry flailed under the new attack, and his finger clenched the trigger.
Darien’s body slammed into Larissa’s, knocking her to the ground as the bullet whizzed over them.
The draugr growled in triumph at its sudden freedom.
Its wings pumped hard as it shot into the air, sending a current of wind rushing over Darien.
The sentry’s body slumped to the ground, and General Ishaan stood in his place.
He grabbed hold of Darien’s and Larissa’s arms in unison. Cuts decorated his tanned skin, and there was blood on his teeth. “Get up, Majesties.”
“Where’d you come from?” Darien asked.
“Putting down another skirmish in the city. We didn’t get King Torsten’s message in time, or we would have been here earlier.” Darien noticed then a new wave of Vienám rebels had entered into the courtyard, turning the tide yet again. Ishaan’s eyes roamed the crowd. “Where is my Queen?”
“There.” Darien pointed to where Anara and Masai fought side-by-side against the first draugr .
Ishaan’s eyes narrowed at the sight. “Smaragdian.”
“It’s coming back!” Larissa shouted, adjusting her stance and raising her hands.
Darien and Ishaan tensed as the second draugr swooped down once again with its talons extended.
Larissa clenched her hands and yanked hard.
The draugr cried out, its wings stilling in the air, causing the monster to plummet to the hard stone that lined the bloody courtyard.
Darien placed himself at Larissa’s back, his gun in one hand and his sword in the other.
He wouldn’t allow another sentry to attack her while she was busy incapacitating the draugr .
Ishaan leapt onto the creature. Darien didn’t need to watch to know when the creature finally died; the sudden absence of screams was enough.
Larissa slumped against Darien’s back at the sudden release. She was using too much of her galdr ; she wouldn’t be able to keep this up. Darien turned to her, still supporting her. What he wouldn’t give to be able to share what galdr he had with her.
Ishaan nodded in their direction. “I must protect my Queen.”
Then, with a flutter, the Rubinian was gone. In the midst of their fight, the larger battle had progressed toward the palace, taking Anara with it.
Larissa straightened, brushing back her hair with shaking fingers. “We should find Anara and Masai.”
“And my father.” Though they’d been reunited briefly, the shifting current of battle continued to separate them. No doubt King Torsten would be near the front, leading his people forward. It was where Darien should be. “Do you need to rest?”
“Not while others are dying.”
Darien couldn’t think of an argument against that. They dove back into the chaos, always keeping each other within reach as they wove their way through the beaten and bloody bodies. Haki and Jari had also disappeared from Darien’s sight. He could only hope that they were alive.
He did his best to not look at the bodies he stepped over.
It wasn’t fair that sentries and rebels alike bled on the streets while monsters and those with the power of the gods battled around them.
A dark-skinned man fought off another sentry; his enormous mustache identified him immediately.
General Sture’s knife dug hilt-deep into the man before him.
His mouth twisted in distaste. Immediately, he knelt next to the unconscious man, spreading his hands across the wound.
The blood stopped, but the man did not stir.
At Darien’s appearance, Sture rose. The Smaragdian General looked sick to his stomach. “I can’t bring myself to kill them if I don’t have to.”
Darien had never liked the general in their council meetings, but he felt he’d never understood the man more than in that moment.
Shots, louder and closer than before, rang out, sending Darien and Larissa to their knees as they took cover.
All around them, sentries and rebels cowered from the peppered pop of the bullets.
Darien scanned the rooftops, spotting the shiny barrel of the machine gun as it flashed in the midday sun.
Bullets rained down on sentries and rebels alike as though the man had been given order to kill without restraint.
Perhaps Omiros had decided dead rebels were worth more than living sentries.
Sparks crackled around Larissa’s raised hands as she turned her attention to the sentry, who at the same moment turned his weapon on her.
Bullets ricocheted off the shield of energy that Larissa held like a ceiling over their heads to protect them from the gunfire.
Darien took aim only to hear the click of the empty chamber.
He dropped down, searching for another gun nearby but finding only the Smaragdian general.
General Sture’s eyes were unseeing above his bloodied mustache as he lay next to the sentry he’d only just healed.
“Dar,” Larissa grunted against the bullets that pounded against her shield. “I can’t hold him forever.”
A caw of a raven, followed by the screech of a hawk, registered from up ahead.
The two birds flew in unison toward the rooftop; then came a scream as the shooter was flung from the rooftop and landed with a thump on the ground.
Larissa’s shoulders slumped as she let her hands fall to her sides, and Darien snatched up a pistol lying next to a sentry’s bullet-ridden body.
The Vienám cheered, but their shouts were overwhelmed by the victorious cries of the sentries.
After a few cries, Darien understood the words they were shouting.
“REGENT OMIROS!”
Darien and Larissa shoved their way through the rebels, desperate to reach the front lines.
Though the fighting continued behind them, the men they passed were practically frozen, seemingly transfixed by the presence of the Regent sauntering toward them.
He had graying black hair and a scar across his olive nose that looked like it’d been broken before, yet his posture emitted power.
Sentries and rebels alike pulled back to form a large clearing in the battlefield’s center.
King Torsten waited, sword and firearm hanging from his hands, as Regent Omiros approached.
With Larissa at his side, Darien pushed to the front of that crowd to stand behind his father, whose royal armor had been coated in gore and blood.
Nearby in the crowd, Anara and Ishaan growled at Regent Omiros.
Masai gripped his staffs, eyeing the men who stood behind the Regent.
“Regent Omiros.” Torsten’s voice was hard, yet underneath it, Darien could feel the pull of his father’s galdr .
It was a difficult thing to try and persuade someone without the mental connection first established, but Torsten had decades of experience behind him.
“Your draugrs are dead. Your sentries’ blood has coated this city. It is enough. Surrender your forces.”
Regent Omiros’ face tightened, pulling the scarred skin over his nose taunt, as he tried to resist Torsten’s galdr .
His arms raised in surrender, his gun held loosely in his hand.
The sentries around him murmured in confusion and fear.
Regent Omiros glared at his traitorous hands as if he could not believe their actions.
His legs shook slightly as he knelt before Torsten, even as his eyes retained their fury.
Omiros shifted before Torsten, a necklace falling forward, revealing an uncorked vial at the end of it with crushed red flowers contained behind the glass.