45. Esther
ESTHER
“Spirit will only allow those whom I permit to come and go freely,” Sheila says, sitting on top of a stallion as dark as the night.
We’re on a cliff edge, looking over the camp flooded with the red banners of Dahlia’s army.
“Which was a blind spot to let it get infiltrated by whatever those corrupt things were. My barrier, though, has already fallen and been reinstated to the east, where we’ve sent half of the warriors and greers to force them back through the narrow path.
I’m afraid our men will only last so long alongside the feelopes as they fight their beasts and men.
The wind and fire greer are a problem.” She pulls at the reins, so we move alongside the barricade.
My eyes are trained on the camp farther ahead, and the outline of the larger, obsidian commander’s tent.
“The commander’s tent is where Regent has been taken prisoner,” one of the warriors reports.
“If we get you close enough to the water, do you think you can wipe out the majority of the soldiers coming in through the east path?” Sheila asks, bringing me back to the now.
It’s insufferable to focus on anything but getting to Regent, my heart thudding and racing against time.
But I’m not ignorant enough to believe that I can scale the wall myself and take on an entire army.
“Yes,” I say breathlessly and look over my shoulder at Blaze, who hasn’t said anything since I first told him we would stay to fight.
The thought of dragging him into this weighs on me, and I slow the mare to meet the pace of his.
“If you want to leave, you can. You don’t have to fight this because of me. ”
“It’s exactly why I fight alongside you, Esther.
You are not only my queen, but you’re also my best friend.
” A sadness shifts in his gaze as he looks at the edges of my collarbones and at the still-shifting markings.
I know they’re moving because I can feel their energy coursing through my flesh.
Not irritably, but humming as if only to tell me that he’s still alive.
“From here or there,” I say, holding out my hand to him. He takes it, uncharacteristically removing the bottom of his mask and bending over to kiss my knuckles.
“From here or there, my Queen, always.”
My heart fills, wanting more for Blaze than a life of servitude.
To not serve a fallen king, only to serve an illegitimate daughter.
To prioritize himself, and yet I’m too scared to say all these things, grateful to have him by my side.
We move toward the edge of the barrier as Sheila says, “I’ve restored it, but it’s only temporary. It will fall, especially if I do.”
“You stay within the barrier, Sheila,” a warrior says.
Sheila’s milky-yellow eyes blink, almost looking unappreciative of the order.
Lovealots and Biscuit come to stand on either side of me, regally, other feelopes behind them, threading through the warriors who stand at our backs. Farther up, I can see the warriors who have already fallen as we near the narrower path where men and beasts fight.
“Bring him back alive, Esther the Bound,” Sheila says, looking at the fallen.
I glance at her, surprised by the name, the one the Fates had given me.
“The Fates and I speak from time to time,” she says with a wry smile.
“And you must know, you are as important as he is, if not more. Don’t be reckless, and don’t let your magic consume you.
” The sobering resonance in her words reminds me much of Master Kain’s.
“Good luck, child. And thank you for sending my people to safety.”
The breeze sweeps through the moment the barrier drops, and without delay, I whip the reins, leaping past the threshold, with two feelopes by my side and an assassin at my back.
The feelopes bare their fangs as they keep pace, surprising me since I’ve only ever seen them in leisure and calm.
An unnatural breeze sweeps through the air, pushing at my braid and my invisible chains, leading me straight into the direction of the wind greer who purchased me at the Volmere auctions.
I send my invisible chains to the sea, summoning its might by the side of the dead forest as we gallop toward the fight of man, beast, and greer.
I call upon my soulless beast to wreak havoc against our enemies, concentrating the way my master taught me.
It reels from the ocean, cutting through the dead trees, obliterating those in its path.
Men and beasts scream, pushed back by its barreling body and teeth, wiping out a mass of soldiers on the front line. And then the impact begins.
My stomach is struck, and I cough. The multiple hits are infuriating but not enough to deter me, as I have it circle back and wipe out a second line of men. Our own warriors receiving a moment of reprieve as they drag fallen comrades to the side.
I look over my shoulder at Sheila, two feelopes by her side, and only a few warriors who remain as the barrier erects again.
The wind greer’s magic rises, and I can feel her on the other side of my soulless beast. But past that, as my magic searches, I can sense the tiniest pulse of Regent’s magic, barely a kernel. But alive.
I jump off the mare, coming to stand beside two fallen warriors. “Take them back to Sheila,” I command Reene and the half-standing warrior. Blaze jumps off his own horse, offering it to another two men.
“Are you sure about this? We’re at a disadvantage on foot,” he says.
I will not let Regent’s mare fall as well. For whatever reason, I know Reene is important to him, and so I will preserve everything for his return. Besides, I know Blaze works best hidden in the trees.
“There’s a fire greer who’s problematic. How much coverage do you think you need from the trees?”
He looks to the right. “Can you give me half the foliage closest to the sea?”
Done.
“Link,” I whisper, connecting with the kernel of Regent’s magic. It feels stiff, as if sucked into a vortex, bleeding him dry. It dawns on me how Dahlia might have trapped him. Of course, he’s basically magicless right now. That growing urgency to get to him ever devouring.
My water snake careens back toward the sea. I grasp onto the few chants I know of earth magic, springing half the forest to life, as the edges of the branches bloom. My magic funnels through as I watch Blaze run toward them.
The moment my soulless beast passes through the battlefield, a blast of air pushes me back. I unsheathe the sword strapped to my side, stabbing it into the earth and using it as an anchor before I’m pushed back too far while my magic is bleeding into the forest, the process almost complete.
When the wind stops, I look forward, heaving my sword out, my heart hammering in my chest as two soldiers run toward me. But it’s not them I’m focused on, it’s the wind greer who hovers in the sky, her attention set on me.
I need to get to Regent at all costs.
I shove forward, my feet pounding hard against the earth as I vaguely see the shadows of the feelopes and Tahil warriors clash with the soldiers and dark beasts who fight against them.
Biscuit and Lovealots divide, their speed surpassing the horses.
A black haze follows them like a spirit or wraith in form.
They simultaneously dodge the blades of the two soldiers who run toward me with unrelenting speed and grace as they slam their weight into the men and rip them apart with sharp claws and fangs.
The soldiers quickly falling limp, their screams only another battle cry.
Their shrewd screams take me back to the night on the rocking boats as we faced the water beast who claimed my home.
I feel Master Kain with me now, his strength and drive to make sure my blade strikes true.
It’s both comforting and terrifying as a dull ache awakens within.
I’m shamelessly excited by the cry of war, an internal knowing and ancestral pull I’ve never experienced myself but deep down always knew was there.
Because my magic craves the chaos and destruction.
I run toward the men, adrenaline pumping in my veins, with the pressure and understanding that one wrong move could cost me my life. Could cost Regent’s life.
This isn’t training anymore.
This is what I wanted all those months ago, to be fighting alongside warriors on the battlefield, and now that it’s upon me, I try not to love the thrill of it. Because reality is sinking in that I could lose all of them.
That’s also why I wanted to fight, knowing in myself this is the reason I was born.
A fine-tuned weapon.
A daughter to bring misfortune and death on others.
My magic rattles, sounding the alarm as a strong wind slices toward me.
I create an earthly barrier to my right, rolling to the side and lying low as it splits in two.
Sharp rocks and stones dig into me as I roll, quick to take a breath before returning to my feet, the ache in my shoulders a welcome force.
The wind greer comes to face me, slowly lowering as she chants, her feet touching the ground.
“I was told to bring you in alive,” she says, those dark eyes watching me. Her voice carries over the wind with ease. “But I don’t often like being told what to do. You’ll die today in this spot, and it’s a rather bleak death for an unimportant girl.”
I raise my sword as I stand. Only momentarily looking to my right as flames erupt in the trees, and I can sense the fire greer, most likely as Blaze faces him.
Her wind is sharp enough to cut stone. How about steel in the way of a sword, especially blessed with resistance? It’s a gamble, but I need to reserve as much magic as I possibly can to face Dahlia, but I also can’t waste time on the likes of this greer.
She chants as another sharp wind hurtles toward me, and I cut through it with my blade. I can sense the moment her wind strike is cut in two, both parts of earth exploding on either side of me from its impact.