Chapter 38
MAKING AN ENTRANCE IS BECOMING A HABIT
“Wake up, chickadee!” Whiskers kissed my face. “Nap time is over.”
I was alert instantly, eyes snapping open, pulse already pounding as I made to sit up, but a strong arm tightened around me, pulling me back against a warm, taut chest.
Araz.
Everything in me softened for a beat as memories of last night’s lovemaking filled my mind. How we’d lain in a tangle of limbs after. How we’d returned to our tent and snuggled and talked for hours.
But today was the day it could all end.
A wave of sorrow washed away the warmth, and a crushing weight pressed down on me.
“Breathe,” Araz said gruffly from behind me. “Breathe through it.”
I closed my eyes and did just that. Blue kissed my cheek again, his whiskers like tiny whispers across my skin.
A breeze beat at the fabric of our tent, a reminder of what lay outside. A reminder of the fact that we were about to face death head-on and hope it missed.
Araz released me, and I rolled off our bedroll, quickly pulling on clothes.
I stepped out of the tent, onto soft earth where an icy breeze whipped at my face, forcing me to squint to look out at the vastness of our camp. Tents of all colors, dying campfires, and my comrades preparing for what could be their final day on this world.
Maybe we would succeed somehow. Make it to the mountain. To the throne.
Araz believed he could come with me, but there was no way to know if that was true. Heck, there was no way of knowing if even I could get through. Everything was conjecture right now, but it was all we had.
Dharma and Chaya approached, Joe, Bina, and their drohi close behind.
“Zarael and Jaantor are rallying everyone,” Bina said, her expression grim.
“Where’s Pakshiraj?”
“I’m here.” Pakshiraj joined us, naked save for his modesty cloth.
“How are the aerial troops holding up?”
“They are grieving, but they are enraged, and they will fight until the end. We will carry as many to the front as needed. We will move in waves. We do not give Mizikiel time to regroup. If we hit hard and fast after each unraveling, then we may make it through.”
“It’s a good plan,” Araz said.
It was our only plan, one that meant the loss of many lives.
My chest ached with the knowledge. “How do we decide who goes in the first wave?” My throat thickened. “I can’t make that call.”
“You won’t have to,” Pakshiraj said. “You already have volunteers. Those that grieve and want vengeance. They do not care if it costs them their lives if they pave the way for hope of Mizikiel’s demise.”
My eyes heated at the enormity of the sacrifice. But doubt pricked at me. What if Mizikiel couldn’t be killed? What if he was indestructible? Heck, the Deva had locked him away rather than end him, so what if it wasn’t even possible?
I pushed away the doubts because they served no purpose.
This had to be done.
We had to try.
“We should move out now,” Araz said. “Dharma, Joe, Bina…” He inclined his head at them. “You and your drohi will be in our wave. The third wave. We’ll need you to cover us if we make it to the mountain without countering an unraveling.”
I glanced up at him, knowing exactly what he was doing. Holding my friends back to minimize my personal loss, but I wasn’t going to argue with him.
I wasn’t that selfless. “Let’s get this done. I’ll go with—”
An icy wind raked across my skin and stole my words, then a soft, mournful howl blistered across the camp.
Araz tensed, his body vibrating with the need for action.
Commotion broke out across the camp, people ducking out from their tents as campfires flickered and bent, fighting this arctic chill.
The wind dropped suddenly, taking the chill with it, but a mist rose at the edge of camp.
“What’s happening?” Joe asked everyone and no one in particular. “Is this Mizikiel? Is this an unraveling?”
“No…” Araz stood taller. “This isn’t an unraveling. It’s an arrival.” He grinned, his body relaxing.
What was he grinning at? I peered into the mist as it billowed and rose. What was he seeing?
Chaya let out a gasp, and Malina bit back a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob, and something inside my chest expanded.
No…Could it be…I broke away from the group, allowing my feet to carry me toward the mist, my pulse racing as it thinned.
Please…please…
The mist parted, and a figure stepped out. Taller than I remembered. Broader too. The lines of his face sharper. The planes harder. But there was no mistaking who he was.
“Pashim!”
I ran toward him, and his austere face broke into a grin. He caught me to him, crushing me into a hug that melted the last of the icy dread that had formed in my belly.
“You’re here.”
“Yes, Leela. I’m here. And I brought an army.” Figures materialized around me. Powerfully built, shadowy, spectral forms with glowing white eyes. Warriors from Myrtu Valley. “You prepare for battle against the primordial evil, and we will go with you. Where is he? Where are his troops?”
He’d done it. Pashim had brought an army of dead to us. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was no use. That the unraveling made it impossible to fight Mizikiel.
Joe, however, had no such qualms. “It’s no use,” he said behind us. “The bastard escaped into his realm, and there’s a failsafe to unravel anyone who gets within a hundred meters of the mountain where the doorway to his world is hidden.”
A tall, stocky figure stepped abreast of Pashim and me, as tall as Pashim and with a look about him that was familiar.
“You cannot unravel that which is already dead,” he said. “We can carry a small number of the living within the protection of our mist.” His gaze fell to me.
Hope flared in my chest. I looked back at Araz to see my sentiments echoed on his face.
We had a way past the failsafe.
A way into the mountain.
No one had to die.
No one had to risk their lives today.
No one except me. And I could live with that.