Chapter Twenty-Nine
Twenty-Nine
For a second, I’m too stunned to do anything. Davien stares at my outstretched hand where the necklace was, blinking as though his eyes have deceived him. Then, simultaneously, we react.
Davien jumps from the water, spinning toward where the arrow came from.
I lunge for where the necklace sank beneath the lake’s glassy surface.
The song I heard earlier has halted. The water is cooling, frigid once more.
Even though I open my eyes underwater, I don’t see any of the ghostly figures.
It’s as though what was placed in the necklace was not just the magic that was within me but also the magic of the lake itself, of this entire region.
My horrible theory is confirmed when I resurface with the pendant in hand.
The mist that surrounded and protected the keep is evaporating in the sunlight.
Like a shroud being pulled off, it reveals the spare, skeletal forest we rode through with pristine clarity.
In front of those trees are a line of ten Butchers, their cowls radiating angry shadows around their necks and shoulders.
I had intended to gather the power of Aviness…but I hadn’t dreamed or wanted to be this successful.
Davien lunges toward the nearest Butcher. Two others break away from the line and disappear in the shadow of one of the nearby trees. Motion at my right distracts me from Davien. The two Butchers have reappeared in the shade of the keep and are racing toward me.
I scramble, looking frantically from Davien to the necklace and back.
Three Butchers have descended on him now.
Davien is strong and has become more powerful during his time in Midscape, but he does not yet have the power of kings, and he’s outnumbered.
I look back to the two who are nearly upon me and step hastily away into the deeper water.
“Don’t come any closer,” I say. “I have the power of kings.”
“That’s exactly what we came for.” The man approaching me smiles thinly.
“Don’t force me to use it.” I’d sound far more threatening if my voice weren’t quivering.
“As if you could. You already separated the magic from your body. You’re nothing more than a pathetic human now.”
“Katria, run!” Davien booms at the top of his lungs.
Without warning, a flash of light radiates out from him.
I look away at the last possible second.
The Butchers are blinded. I sprint for the horse, kicking up water in my haste.
It’s slow going until I hit the shallows.
But by then, the Butchers are already recovering.
I hear the sounds of struggle coming from Davien.
I glance over, see him dodging attack after attack.
He rears back, and claws—long and deadly—protrude from his fingers.
He sinks them into the side of one of the attackers.
But I don’t get to see the woman go down because in my peripheral vision, I see the two men charging for me with the speed of angry boars.
The horse is our best chance. We can’t fight this many. We must run. Luckily, they haven’t thought to kill the stallion yet. I thank my past self for keeping the mount saddled.
I step on one of the stairs that lead up to the keep, grip the vines that grow around the doorway, and hoist myself up as I jump.
I land awkwardly on the horse’s back and scramble to get my feet in the stirrups.
I manage to just as the Butchers are on me.
Their lunges startle the horse, and with that and my shout, he shoots off faster than the arrow that caught Davien and me by surprise.
I clutch the reins, staying low and swerving as more arrows whiz past me. “Davien!” I scream. He glances over his shoulder, sees me coming for him.
Davien brings his hands together and claps them, releasing a boom of light. Once more, I shield my eyes at the last second. The horse startles, rearing back. I hold on for dear life, soothing the beast as best I can while still spurring him onward. Trust me, I plead silently with the stallion.
He’s truly a well-trained mount, fit for a king, and he presses on even though I’m sure he’s still partially blinded. I hold out my hand for Davien. Three of the Butchers are hot on his heels. His flash-of-light trick was less effective the second time, and I doubt it’ll work a third.
We clasp each other’s forearms and I let out a grunt as I help swing him up. Davien gives a mighty leap and lands as awkwardly as I did, nearly knocking me off in the process. The horse swerves as I lose control while I adjust my balance.
“Do you have it?” The question is filled with desperation.
“I do.” The pendant is clutched in my right hand. I don’t dare unfurl my fingers from it or the horse’s reins to show him.
“Ride like the wind,” he urges, holding me tightly. Still in our smallclothes, soaking wet, we flee.
Seven of the ten are far behind us, but the three that managed to shield their eyes from Davien’s last burst of light dart between the shadows of the trees we sprint through. They launch projectiles with shouts and maniacal laughter.
I swerve the horse right and left, trying to avoid as many shadows as I can. The last thing I want is for one of them to pop up right in front of us. It’s my skill in riding against their luck in hurling things at us.
“You can do this,” Davien encourages. No sooner does he say it than a Butcher appears in a nearby tree; she vaults herself from the upper branches.
I look up instinctively. “Focus ahead,” he snaps.
I don’t see the Butcher as she meets Davien’s claws, but I hear the crunching of bone, the shrill scream, and the thud her body makes as she hits the ground behind us.
Is that one down? Or two? Or did Davien fell even more that I didn’t see back by the lake? I hope that’s the case.
“The horse can’t keep up this pace forever.” I glance back at him.
“The ritual on their cowls will run out soon enough. It draws more power from them when it’s used in broad daylight like this. We can outpace them,” he tells me.
Sure enough, two of the remaining Butchers are no longer giving chase. I turn my focus ahead so I can weave through the trees. Another one lunges for us from a treetop and completely misses.
There are only three now who are keeping pace with the horse. Davien is right. We can outrun them. We can do this.
Yet no sooner do I think that than an arrow whizzes past our horse’s muzzle, causing the stallion to rear back. I manage to hold on, but Davien doesn’t have as good a grip on the beast as I do. As he tilts, I feel him pulling me with him, but he releases his hold so we aren’t both unseated.
“Davien, no!” I scream as the stallion rights himself.
“Go!” he booms. “Don’t stop!” Davien jumps to his feet, claws unsheathed, facing the remaining Butchers.
“I—”
“Go!” he yells over me, knowing my objection before I can say it. “I won’t let them get you or the necklace.”
A sticky, hot, sickening feeling overtakes me, chasing away the cool air on my clammy skin. If I leave him behind, they’re going to kill him. I can’t…I must.
“Katria, go!” he shouts a final time.
With all the pain of ripping open a wound, I give the horse a kick and we begin sprinting once more. Even as I’m riding away, I crane my neck back toward him. I watch as two of the three remaining Butchers descend on him; only one is chasing me now.
I have to go back.
I can’t go back.
If I don’t go back, they’ll kill him.
I can’t let them kill him. I love him. I have to go back.
No, the voice of reason says, quiet and calm, because you love him, you can’t go back.
Going back would be the wrong kind of love, the reckless kind that disregards his most earnest wishes.
It would be a selfish love, one where I put what I want above what he does.
Going back would mean handing over the magic that countless fae—and possibly Giles and Shaye—gave their lives to protect.
Is the choice to leave really love?
I press my eyes closed and let out a scream of frustration and agony that harmonizes in the most horrible way with a cry of pain from Davien in the distance.
Don’t kill him, I plead with fate, with luck, with whatever old god might be listening. Maybe Boltov wants him alive. My stomach clenches. No, if they take him to the High Court, he’ll face a fate worse than death.
No matter what, he’s going to die, and I never had a chance to tell him I loved him.
I dodge another arrow, pushing the horse onward. I continue at our relentless pace, avoiding the shadows and running because our lives depend on it. I don’t relent even after the final Butcher has fallen out of sight, the magic of his cowl expended.
Davien’s cries of agony chase me far longer than any of Boltov’s men and women.