Chapter 4
An Unnatural Storm
“The Dark Natured are curious things, ever teetering on ruin. Deny them their Nature, and they begin to unravel.”
— Henvri Joye, High Healer
Peering through the window, Luna and I stood shoulder to shoulder. Our eyes nearly touched the pane as blue cloaks filled the streets. Horns sounded, and Drakers charged from the top of the hill.
Metal rang out against metal, the black cloaks fighting against the blue. Their years of training displayed in battle. Even so, the Sapphires wormed through the Waywards, stabbing chests and slitting throats.
It was strange that they were using steel, as they had a reputation for practicing blood magic. They had taken over the kingdom of Lestivia, never wielding a blade.
“Perhaps they’re not Sapphires. They aren’t using blood magic,” Luna whispered, making the same observation.
“Who else would wear their cloaks?”
Why would they attack here? If they wanted the Dark Natured for their army, it made little sense.
Most of us were practically useless. We became ill when using our Nature, and in the time it would take to train us, they may as well have trained their own Sapphires.
The Lestivian territory was also weeks of travel away.
They would never make it that far with prisoners.
Coming from downhill, Lord Dronis still held his flaming sword, now covered in blood. The brutality in his snarl told me it wasn’t his, and he had every intention of spilling more. Yet, his steps were sluggish, and he visibly struggled against a trio of Sapphires, grunting through each swing.
He’d never be able to take down the army by himself. Drakers were assisting, but they too were being swarmed. He needed the other Witchlords' help.
Luna’s voice was shaky, her fingers trembling. “I don’t understand.”
Throughout the streets, Dark Natured infested the area, as if they could protect the cage they called home.
A Stonesender with greying hair walked into the chaos, raising his cracked hands in a gesture of surrender as he approached the enemy.
His clothes were ragged and dirty, and his face was pleading.
He begged the Sapphire to take him back to Lestivia.
I shook my head. “Is he fucking stupid?”
Still, the Stonesender supplicated, grey palms faced out. “I don’t want to be here anyway!” he shouted over the chaos. “Take me! I’ll fight for you!”
The blue-cloaked figure held his hand out—an invitation. Giddy, the Stonesender ran over, uncaring of consequences. He approached the Sapphire, so close he was within arm's reach.
“Give me a sword, I’ll help you! I owe no loyalty to the falcon!”
I strained to hear what the Sapphire was saying to him, but had no success. He reached for a sword, and as the Stonesender smiled, the Sapphire slashed right through his face.
“Mother of Moons!” Luna and I both recoiled. She looked away. I could not.
The Sapphire rabidly sucked blood from the Stonesender’s fatal wound. Luna stumbled away from the window, hand covering her mouth.
It made sense now why they weren’t using blood magic. There would be no prisoners—they were here for fuel.
“We have to do something,” I said.
I had no idea what to do, but sitting there waiting to be drained was not ideal.
Luna's lips tugged back as she stared in disbelief. “We need to get out of here, out of the Waywards entirely. We need to leave.”
“And go where?”
They would swiftly catch and execute us beyond the walls, no questions asked. We needed to help secure the Waywards, at the very least, to protect our building. It was all I had.
Luna pointed at the window. “We need to go somewhere these people are not. I refuse to be a meal for those monsters.”
What she was suggesting was not possible or rational. We’d meet death sooner if we escaped.
“King Clarke created the Waywards for us,” I snapped. “Outside these walls, we are hunted. We are nothing.”
Luna’s arms were at her side, hands balled into fists. “He created a prison! Not something special for us!”
“I’m not denying that, but maybe we deserve it. Maybe this is better.”
I’d laid my guilt out on display. Pain etched across Luna’s soft face as if I’d slapped her. As if she’d thought the same thing, but never said it aloud.
I didn’t want to hurt her, but I’d already said it. Blackheart poison rumbled through me, lurking in my veins. Never far from the surface.
“Last I checked, neither of us had anything to do with Princess Clayvarie, a man did!” she screamed.
“Yet every male in the kingdom is not locked behind these walls. Whatever trench your self-esteem has made a home in reeks of weakness. We did nothing wrong, so get your things together. If the gates are open, we are leaving. Now!” Black streams of poisonous tears rolled down her face.
She acted as if I had given my life for the man who’d attacked Princess Clayvarie. Like I was the one fucking the men who treated us like shit in here. I tilted my head, silent long enough to make her shrink a little, then even longer as the tears ran down her neck. “Who died and made you queen?”
“Elora!”
“Luna!” I shouted back.
She wiped her tears away and stifled a pained smile. “Being queen would be nice,” she joked.
“Oh, for Fate’s sake,” I sighed. Only Luna would joke at a moment like this. She took a deep breath, pulling herself together.
“I’m not leaving, Luna. We have nowhere to go.”
She nodded, finally understanding. The only place we could live free was an ocean away in the Bastard Kingdom of Castivian. If it were easy to get there, everyone in the Waywards would have gone years ago.
I glanced back at the window. Three more Dark Natured were being drained on the ground while Sapphires polluted the grim streets.
Witchlord Dronis ferociously roared as he cut through a Sapphire’s abdomen with his sword of light. His brown skin gleamed in the sun, and his white teeth shimmered with a snarl as he headed for his next target.
A frail, redheaded beauty walked up the hill, barefoot and trembling. My heart sank.
“I thought she was dead,” Luna whispered.
There Arielle stood, alive and in the middle of madness. She was so slender that her once full cheeks had sunken in. Trista would be overjoyed her niece was alive, if she stayed that way.
Selfishly, I wanted to know what had happened to her in the castle of Lyonsreach.
Arielle glared at the men around her. Drakers, Sapphires, and the Witchlord. She let out a blood-curdling scream, sending violet Blackheart flames barreling out of her hands.
I stood in panicked silence. What the hell was she doing? Using her Nature again, in front of everyone?
She had no control, not even attempting to aim. Some of her blows hit Sapphires, others hit Drakers. Scream after scream, Blackheart venom barreled out of her, the flames fanning larger and larger.
A Draker charged her, his sword held high. She didn’t flinch. With a shaking arm, she bared her teeth at him and sprayed black mist across his mask and armor. He screamed as it burned through metal, skin, and bone. She stepped over his body as he collapsed on the ground.
Arielle thundered with rage, igniting a violet flame the size of a boulder from her mouth.
It hurtled straight toward our apartment.
Luna and I pushed away from the window. We were halfway down the first flight of stairs when it hit. The impact sent us tumbling, landing on the platform of the next level.
Above us, others rushed down, while some yelled for help from their windows.
Luna cursed, wiping blood from her lip, but we had far worse problems. Smoke filled the already dark hallways along with the echo of screams. Overhead, a violet glow of flames ignited, melting the apartments.
There were twenty stories in this building.
At least fifteen levels' worth of people would die at Arielle’s hand.
“Come on!” Luna choked through a cough. We hurried down the steps, our palms skimming along the rough walls. The moan of the crumbling building surrounded us, my vision obscured by dust and debris.
I followed her through the exit, into the smoky and blood-soaked street. We had no weapons, no training, and nowhere to go. Only a sewing needle and a will to live.
“Please! Please catch her!” a woman yelled from above.
My blood ran ice cold as I looked up.
The apartments wouldn’t last much longer. The highest floors were already sinking into the flames. Leaning her torso through the window a few stories up, a mother held out her child, heavily wrapped in blankets. “Please!” she shrieked.
I nodded, my throat too constricted with terror to produce words. I held my arms out, and Luna did the same. Was I strong enough to catch the infant from this height? Was the mother going to jump, too?
She dropped the baby.
I was so afraid. I wanted to close my eyes, but forced them open. Luna and I crashed into each other as we both aimed for the child, collectively catching her between our arms and falling to the ground. She wailed, but was safe.
A wicked scream rang out, and I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Arielle. She had to burn out soon. We couldn’t use our Nature forever.
As the flames engulfed the mother’s floor, she jumped without warning. Luna covered her face, and I tucked the girl to my chest, turning us both away before the splat.
“Oh, Mother of Moons,” Luna sobbed, slapping a hand over her mouth.
The Sapphires and Drakers didn’t pay any mind to the burning building or the cries coming from it. The Drakers were outnumbered.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted as the neighboring building set ablaze.
Cloaks and steel continued to strike each other down, the bloodshed unending. Dark Natured cried for their fallen families, some even picking up weapons to use themselves. Against the Drakers. Against the Sapphires. Against their own throats, even. They had nothing left to live for.
We couldn’t stay put. There was no telling which direction our building was going to fall, or how many others it would take with it.