Chapter 47
After much debate, they’d decided to place their forces where Oakshire used to be, the town still destroyed after Andras had attacked with his army several months ago.
And where Raine almost lost his life.
Raine had loved this town. Had so many memories of drinking and dancing at the local tavern.
Memories of boisterous nights and days filled with shopping and exploring all Oakshire had to offer.
Of being reprimanded by Sugha, the tavern owner, for being too loud.
Memories of falling into bed with whoever tickled his fancy for the evening.
And now it was gone.
Stopping before a crumbled building, Raine took a breath, trying to steady the ache in his heart. A sign lay on the ground in the rubble and though he could barely make out the words, most of it charred by fire, he knew what it said.
The Winking Fox.
Kneeling, he placed his palm on the sign and closed his eyes, heart still broken at the loss of Sugha.
A hand landed on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know who it was.
“I can’t stop seeing her body on that tree,” Raine said quietly. “Every time I close my eyes, her vacant stare haunts my dreams.”
“I know,” Casimir said. “That day haunts me too.”
Raine wiped away a tear and stood, looking at his best friend, his brother. Casimir’s golden eyes reflected Raine’s own pain and fear.
The two of them faced the former tavern once more, Raine’s arm wrapping around Casimir’s shoulders. A long silence stretched between them, as though neither knew what to say, how to face what was to come.
“Remember the time Sugha lectured you for that drunken brawl that destroyed three of her tables?” Raine asked after a while.
Casimir chuckled. “Wasn’t that the same day she lectured you for trying to get her married son into bed?”
Raine tilted his head back with a laugh. “I didn’t know he was married. Nor did I know he was her son.” He paused, the memories fading like a whisper on the breeze. “But now we’re grown. And fighting for our lives.”
“We are,” Casimir said.
It was poetic they would make their stand here. Using the rage and grief they all felt at the catastrophic loss. Hundreds of citizens had called this town home. Not one of them survived. Not even the little girl Casimir had saved so long ago.
Raine pulled him into a hug. “We’re all going to be fine. Ava’s going to be fine.”
They parted, Raine’s hand still on Casimir’s shoulder. “Do you truly believe that?” Casimir asked.
He shrugged, trying to hide the fear brewing in his gut. “No fucking clue. But I’m going to pretend. That’s all we can do.”
Raine followed his friend as they made their way back to the command tent.
He meant what he had said to Casimir—he was indeed pretending.
Because in reality, he was altogether terrified.
Scared of their failure, scared he would lose someone he loved.
And ever since the attack on his father’s farm, he couldn’t help but imagine what could have happened had they not arrived in time.
The images of his father bloodied and beaten, his childhood home ablaze, his sister limp and covered in burns in Pax’s arms. The terrified, crying children.
It plagued him in almost every waking moment.
And in his dreams too.
Shaking off the memories, he mentally reviewed their plans.
The front lines would include fae from each kingdom in a pattern.
The fae of Saxumdale were to use their stone magic to provide blockades and cover for the archers who’d be equipped with the Igneothenian arrows.
The fae of Monterre would create as many golems as possible to fight before the blockades while also grasping the enemies with vines and roots to hold them still as the lava wielders melted them.
The hope was they would be able to reduce the daemon’s army by as much as possible before they broke through the front lines and the battle morphed into an unorganized melee.
They had to remain efficient, not straying from their plan as long as possible.
But they had Valeria and the ice fae to contend with as well.
And despite the amount of daemons they’d felled during the battle for Igneothenia, they were still vastly outnumbered.
Not to mention the numerous creatures that could nullify their magic.
But that wasn’t even the hardest part. They had to find out where Andras was, and somehow lure him to Ava. She wouldn’t be able to hide away, but would need to be out in the open. A temptation. Like an offering the ancient god couldn’t refuse.
And while she would have a team nearby to aid her if she had to fight through any enemy soldiers, the moment Andras neared they all had to disappear.
He had to think she was alone.
Raine lifted the flap of the large tent and they stepped inside. Thorne looked up from the table covered in maps, his bright red hair pulled back with a strip of leather. He donned the same leather armor as the rest of their army, something he rarely wore.
But though he was king, he insisted on being on the battle grounds, fighting alongside his people. They were lucky to have a king such as him.
“How is everything running?” Thorne asked.
“Smoothly. Everyone knows their role and are prepared to move at a moment’s notice. Did the spies return from their latest mission?” Casimir asked.
Thorne nodded. “The daemons and ice fae are camped together. On the other side of the river.”
“I wonder if we can somehow use the river to our advantage,” Casimir said.
The flaps opened and Maeryn entered, joining them as they considered their options.
Raine leaned over the table, studying the terrain on the map before him. He ran his finger along the river, when it dawned on him. “I have the most excellent idea.” He straightened.
Thorne raised a brow. “Let’s hear it.”
“This part of the river is calm and shallow”—he traced it on the parchment—“unlike the part to the south that flows next to Greywood Forest.”
“And?” Casimir said.
“Perhaps we can lure them to cross it…then boil them alive.”
“Boil them?” Thorne asked. “And how do you suggest we do that?”
Raine gestured to Maeryn and gave her a wink. “Boss here will do it.”
Maeryn gave Raine an assessing look before speaking to Thorne. “I cannot do it by myself. But with a team of us, we can use our lava to heat the water.”
Casimir laid a hand on the pommel of his sword. “It could work. But how do we lure them across?”
Raine brushed his hair behind his shoulder. “A team sneaks into their camp in the middle of the night to destroy something important. How about their weapons? Anger them. Force them to come to us.”
Thorne shook his head. “I don’t know…”
“The daemons are not as organized as the fae. They’ll retaliate. And when they do, we make it seem like we don’t know they’re coming,” Raine said.
“It won’t kill them all,” Casimir said. “As soon as they realize what’s happening, they’ll stop crossing.”
“But it could kill a significant amount. We let some cross first before we boil it. Fight them on land. Give them a false sense of security,” Raine explained.
Thorne’s eyes flared with an idea. “We could also have some of the stone wielders raise a wall. So, they cannot turn around and retreat. On the east side.”
“Trapping as many as possible in between the wall and the boiling river?” Casimir asked.
“Exactly.”
Casimir frowned. “What of the ice fae? It’s possible they could counter the efforts to heat the water.”
“They could try…” Maeryn adjusted the golden sword on her back. “But I believe we have enough lava wielders to prevent their success. Either way, we shall plan for that contingency.”
Casimir met eyes with his fellow general. “Let’s do it.”
Oppressive heat surrounded him, making it almost impossible to breathe.
His lungs ached. Burned.
And he couldn’t see. Why couldn’t he see?
Oh. Smoke. Smoke? Where the fuck did it come from? Was the camp burning?
It was everywhere. Black and thick. He tried to wave it away, tried to find someone…anyone…
The scent of charred wood invaded his nostrils.
Raine looked up from where he knelt on the ground. There was wood beneath him. A wooden floor. Where am I?
Terror ripped through him at the sight of flames and smoke around him. He tried to breathe again, but the heat invaded his lungs, choking him.
A voice cried for help.
Raine crawled toward it. Who was it? It was familiar…
There it was again. A whimper. “Brother…”
Fanya? But she wasn’t here. She was back in Mosshaven.
What the fuck is going on?
He tried to stand, but couldn’t move. Could hardly see. He placed a hand on his chest, attempting to take a breath.
The voice cried again.
Resuming his crawl, he searched, still trying to take in air.
His vision wavered. His pulse raced. He was going to pass out.
There.
Fanya. His sister. Her delicate features scrunched in agony. Half her face was burned, her skin charred.
She moaned.
No. No, no, no.
Raine’s lungs squeezed and he gasped. But he couldn’t breathe…couldn’t breathe…couldn’t breathe…
“Raine,” a voice called his name in the distance.
He scrambled…something tightened around his throat. He scratched and pulled, the sting of fingernails digging into his flesh…but there was nothing there.
Help! I can’t breathe! Somebody help me!
“Raine!”
A blow to his face. His cheek stung.
His eyes opened…
And he wasn’t in his burning home. He was in a tent. In his tent.
No fire. No heat. No smoke.
A pair of yellow eyes peered down at him, full of concern. His cheek throbbed and there was still something around his neck. But he was in his tent.
“You were dreaming,” Maeryn whispered, reaching for his throat and pulling something gently away.
A vine. Was that his?
“I heard you yelling. And your magic was out of control…you almost strangled yourself.”
She brushed a strand of hair away from his face. Raine shuddered at her touch.
“Take a deep breath and let it go.” Her voice was so soft, so kind.
He inhaled, his lungs free from the oppressive smoke, and released his magic. The rest of the vines around him disappeared into the ground. Free from the restraints of his own making, he sat up, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Fuck.” He met eyes with Maeryn. “Did you slap me?”
“I’m sorry. Nothing else was working. I shall get you some ice.”
She moved as if to stand. Raine’s hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist. “No. Please…don’t go…”
“You must get more sleep.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall back asleep after that.”
She searched his face. With a resolute nod, she said, “I’ll stay,” then extended her legs and pointed to her lap, “lie down.”
“I—what?”
“Do not make me say it again.”
With a hefty sigh, Raine settled back onto his bed roll on his side, laying his head in Maeryn’s lap. Fingers threaded through his hair, a steady rhythm that had him relaxing immediately, and he couldn’t help but place a hand on her leg, settling closer to her warmth.
“Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?” she asked quietly.
“Not right now,” he whispered back.
“Alright then. Try to relax and close your eyes.”
Maeryn continued to soothe him. Her touch was light as she guided her fingers through the silky strands, each brush a release, a comfort. He let out a shuddering breath and nestled down, tightening his grip on her thigh.
If only he could spend the rest of his life in her arms. Letting her hold him as he longed to hold her. His soulbond. His fated one. The woman he was unashamedly already falling in love with.
He would tell her eventually. But not until the war was over. Not until they were free from the perils of daemons around every corner. Not until he wasn’t terrified of her death with every battle.
With each tender caress of her hand, each stroke along his scalp, his muscles eased. The tension melted. His mind calmed. He felt…safe.
Raine took a deep breath, his eyes finally fluttering closed.
And then she began to sing. A low, lilting melody. Haunting, but beautiful. The words she spoke were in a language he wasn’t familiar with, but they soothed him all the same. Within minutes, he was pulled back into slumber. Lulled by the timbre of her voice and the touch of her hands.