Chapter 46
Stones stacked ahead, stuck together with haphazard mortar, like the builders of the wall had been more concerned with its position than its strength. An ominousness clung to it, like it had witnessed far more than any of us ever would.
I glared at it. Because we hadn’t so much as glimpsed a Demon patrol. The stillness in our surroundings unnerved me. They should have passed by at least once in the days we’d been sitting here.
Silence hung heavy in the air instead. Even fucking Calrien was quiet at his post a short distance away. Vaeron had grinned when I called on the former member of our crew to join me on this mission. Because the majority of the soldiers with me were untrained.
If the Demons did attack, he could possibly die while defending them. Or after we slaughtered them all, maybe he would slip on a rock and crack open his skull.
What a shame.
That was how I spent my hours—dreaming of what accidents might befall Calrien. As much as I enjoyed painting the picture of his death, I’d rather be doing something. What I wouldn’t give for a bonded auravane to hunt for our enemies.
Instead, I was left peering into the darkness for red irises.
A twig cracked, and I whipped my head to the side, finding a grunt creeping through the underbrush toward me. Oshenai and the islanders were on the other end of our watch line, and this young male had been selected as our go-between.
“Nothing to report,” he whispered, crouching down beside me.
I nodded, blowing out a long breath. My eyes were heavy and gritty, and my body begged for sleep. But something kept my nerves on edge, a soldier’s sense that slumber would not serve me now.
For two days we’d sat here, waiting for the next patrol. My fingers were as numb as my backside from the cold. Yet we couldn’t risk fires that might give away our position. We needed to see them before they saw us.
Perhaps the path was already clear and there was no need to spill Demon blood to ensure the Angel army’s safe retreat.
It was wishful thinking; I was under no impression we weren’t already being watched. That was the only explanation I had for the creeping sensation under my skin.
The messenger sat with me for an hour longer—with no sound, no wind—before returning to Oshenai.
On stiff legs, I rose, bracing my arm against a tree while I shook out my limbs.
The females thirty feet away slumped against rough bark, both asleep.
Calrien’s head tipped back, but the light was too low to determine whether he was conscious or not.
Irritation nipped at my nerves. Iaoth and Stadiel were so concerned with court politics they failed to care about the quality of soldiers for their holy war.
It was by sheer force of Vaeron’s will and mine that half of them hadn’t fled into the forest once we were far enough from Sivy.
Fewer knew how to swing a sword. None really wanted to be here.
And now, we had to pay the price for the crown’s ineptitude.
I didn’t bother waking any of them as I strode downhill, out of sight of the wall, to relieve myself. No one was coming—not tonight anyway.
And the following night, Lyr would be here.
Three days away from her were far too many. I’d never been in love before I met her. And now she was my whole world.
But if we didn’t clear out these Demons, it wouldn’t be safe when she rode with Vaeron to meet us.
I yawned, rubbing the heels of my palms in my eyes, as I returned to my post. Moonlight spilled into the clearing, sliced by shadows.
By shadows.
My eyes widened, and I slammed to a halt a few feet from the treeline. Crouched bodies slithered over the earth, bronze weapons drawn. The five were focused on the two females—they hadn’t seen me yet. Or Calrien, his position drenched in darkness.
I dove into the well of white in my chest, yanking the threads of my power to the surface of my skin. My hand hovered over the hilt of my sword, but the moment I drew it, they would hear the scrape.
I had to time it perfectly.
Closer they crept. Closer I edged. Still the females slept.
Until the Demons were nearly upon them, and some sense forced them awake. One screamed as a male lunged for her. A blast of white knocked him sideways, and I yanked my blade out of its sheath, racing forward to meet the rest.
With snarls, the four turned on me, black magic leaking from their feet. I pooled more white around me, building a barrier at my back. I took quick note of their eye color, finding the lesser-powered shades—crimson, scarlet, and even one apple-red.
The two Angels scrambled behind me, their screams echoing through the night as they fled. At least if they weren’t going to stand with me and fight, their shouts would wake Calrien.
One Demon leaped forward, bronze mace swinging straight for my stomach. My sword clashed against its edge, sweeping it to the side. But that left my flank open, and another thrust a long spear toward my shoulder. I flinched just out of range, the wood a hair’s breadth from my chest.
Calrien skidded to a stop at my side, incandescence leaping from him and snatching the pole. The magic yanked it out of the Demon’s hands. But he merely laughed and chased after the females instead.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. I couldn’t worry about them.
“I’ve got them,” Calrien shouted, white threads weaving around him as he pivoted away from the fray.
“Go,” I ordered, glad to be rid of him. Hopefully, he’d fall and break his neck in pursuit.
The three remaining Demons attacked at once, forcing me to block, duck, and parry while trying to maintain my balance on the hillside.
I called on my Mirror power, feeling for the edge of their minds.
While I couldn’t read their thoughts, I could pulse their internal noise back to them.
My blade clashed against the mace again, and I shoved with all my might—magically and physically—to throw him off.
The male’s brows pinched, and he stumbled back, staring at the weapon in his hand.
KILL KILL KILL
I directed the thoughts at him, weaving them among his own. Another lunged for me, and I repeated the pulse. The third stared at his compatriots turning their blades on themselves. He shouted something in Demonic, his shadows leaping out to smack their weapons.
I snatched my opportunity and sliced him down amid his distraction. My power slipped off the other two, and they managed to recover before I was upon them.
But it was too late; their confusion lingered too long. I sliced one clean through the gut, entrails spilling out. The other I speared straight through the chest. He collapsed to the ground, lifeless gaze staring at the stars, as I pulled my sword free.
Only for shouts to split the night. On instinct, I raced toward the sound.
More Demons battled with our group, the soldiers stationed in the middle far braver than the two I’d had on the fringes with me. The dark-skinned islanders fought at the front, felling Demons like they were leviathans emerging from the deep.
White flashed through the night as Angels added their magic to the fray. I joined the left flank, trying to hold back our enemies. They far outnumbered us—at least a hundred and fifty to our forty remaining.
Which meant they’d either called in reinforcements when they’d noticed our arrival or there had been more lurking than I anticipated.
Oshenai shouted something from the opposite side, and I glanced up for the briefest of moments, finding two archers with their bows drawn.
I twisted my fingers, clawing to create a shield over us. White knitted and knotted as a twang sliced through the air. Burning agony exploded in my shoulder, and the incandescence stuttered out.
My silver sword clattered to the ground as the bronze arrow tip severed me from access to my magic. A roar ripped from my throat as I pitched to the side, clutching my arm. A Demon stole the moment to launch himself in my direction, glaive poised to slice me open further.
Until an islander slammed into the Demon, the two going down in a tangle of limbs. Fists flew as they grappled for control. With gritted teeth, I scrambled away from the battle, seeking shelter. There was no way I could continue to fight like this.
I had to live to see Lyriasthe again.
She’d fucking kill me herself if I died out here.
My savior managed to best his opponent, wasting no time in returning to the fray. Because we were losing—badly. Every new recruit was broken and bleeding. Even a few of the more seasoned warriors who had retreated with Zuriel struggled.
And all I could do was watch in horror as one of Oshenai’s kin took a sword to his gut.
“Fall back,” I shouted, surrendering my grip on my wounded arm only long enough to shove myself to my feet.
Oshenai repeated the order, white unspooling from him and crafting a glowing barrier. Those at the back raced behind it first, and the chieftain and his nephew lingered in the fight to give everyone a chance to flee.
Fallen weapons rose, humming with Oshenai’s Deepseek power. The Demons shouted, raising their armaments and forming a protective ring.
The islanders sprinted for safety the moment Oshenai launched the sharp edges toward our enemies. That wall of white grew, encompassing our entire group as we raced downhill and toward our designated meeting spot.
Roars of agony chased us, but no footfalls.
Pain seared my every breath as I slowed to a jog, the arrow still protruding from my shoulder. Oshenai whirled, noting the wound, and wrapped his arm around me, hauling me faster. Each jostle brought a fresh wave of curses up my throat.
Breathless, we reached the cave at last. The one healer we’d brought—Thalyon, who had saved Vaeron’s life—was already working on several wounded. He barked quick orders at an assistant, more composed than I would have been facing a wave of wounded.
“Tend to Padisa Maelsar,” Oshenai instructed him, settling me against the stone. All I could do was offer him a nod of thanks.
Thalyon finished bandaging a surface wound on one of the females, then crouched beside me, examining the bolt. “This is going to hurt.”
“Just take it out,” I said through gritted teeth.
I closed my eyes, painting a picture of Lyriasthe in my mind. The way her sky-blue eyes sparkled when she teased me. The plumpness of her lips. How soft her hair was as I wrapped it in my fist.
Thalyon yanked, and all the air fled my lungs. “Fuck!”
He slapped a bandage over the wound, red soaking it immediately. “I think that might have nicked an artery.”
“Do something about it?” I gasped, the agony rendering me unable to inhale, unable to think. I’d been injured plenty of times before, but this, this was different. Fire burned through my veins, blistering and hot.
I turned to the side and retched. Sweat beaded my brow and rolled down my temples as Thalyon shouted for someone to help him. More hands pressed against me, but I couldn’t feel them. I was numb and cold and sparking all at the same time.
Oshenai slapped me, his aquamarine eyes swimming in my vision like he was underwater.
And then the world let go of me.