Chapter 12 #2
Though Ophiucae’s shield could sense the deception, his men couldn’t. They saw a wall of ice on one side and a fire-breathing beast on the other, and they panicked, scrambling in every direction.
A peal of laughter—fucking laughter—pulled my attention to the palace steps, where the Crowns were watching the fight unfold from safety. Even that piece of shit Ignios had found a pair of guards to load him in a chair and carry him outside to see the show.
“What are you waiting for?” I roared from the balcony. “You’re the most powerful Descended here. If you won’t defend your people, why should they defend you?”
Their amusement faded as they exchanged guilty looks, yet none moved to join the soldiers.
I glared at Sophos. “You owe my Queen a life debt, Doriel. Get on your damn gryvern and fight.”
Their expression hardened. “Vexes, come,” they shouted into the sky.
A plump, slow-moving creature flew in from the forest and landed long enough for Sophos to mount.
Meros called his gryvern and joined them, then Faunos and Arboros.
Ignios held back, demanding his guards carry him back inside and barking orders for Tybold to keep anyone from following.
“He’s got days to live, and still Ignios puts his life first,” Auralie muttered. “The Crowns don’t deserve our help.”
I cocked my head. “Auralie, are you certain of your choice?”
“You defend them now, after all they’ve done?”
“No. It’s just not what I expected from you, that’s all.”
“Because you think me weak?”
“Because you raised the most compassionate person I’ve ever known.” My palm found my heart, an instinctive salute to my Queen. “If Diem were here, she would be the first in battle, truce or not.”
With the help of Alixe and Sorae, the Crowns succeeded in pushing back a large swath of Ophiucae’s men, but not all.
Some had fought their way through, and neither the Emarion Army soldiers nor the Lumnos Royal Guards were experienced at battling such impervious shields.
The enemy advanced with frightening speed and a trail of dead bodies.
My fingers inched toward my sword.
“Why haven’t you joined Ophiucae?” I asked her.
“I don’t trust him.”
“More than you distrust the Crowns?” She glowered in silence, so I pushed a bit harder. “What’s the real reason?”
She chewed on the answer as if testing its taste to decide whether to spit it out.
When she answered, her voice was strangely small for a woman so mighty.
“When I became pregnant, I knew I would do anything for Diem. I’ve made mistakes as a mother, but everything I’ve done, everything, has been for my children—to give them a future they can be safe in.
Andrei felt the same way. Diem wasn’t his blood, but he . . .” Her voice faltered.
I set a hand on her shoulder. It felt like a lie to comfort her over a death I felt so responsible for. A loss I’d sworn, and failed, to prevent.
“I saw him with Diem while you were away,” I said. “It was clear how deeply he loved her.”
“I thought Ophiucae was the same. He and I spoke of getting off the island and making the world better for our child. Then Diem was born. Instead of protecting her . . .” Her pain heated to fury.
“He held her tiny body and put a blade against her skin. He wanted his freedom. Everything else came second.” She pointed to the mass of gryverns swooping through the clash.
“I have much to criticize the Crowns for, but I don’t believe they’ll kill their own people to save themselves.
Around a man that will . . . no one is safe. ”
The battle grew messier. Smoke scented the air, while blood trickled in a scarlet maze between the cobblestones lining the path to the gates. Some of Ophiucae’s men had figured out Alixe’s illusions and shouted at the others to press forward despite the gryverns’ flames.
Shrewd as always, Alixe adapted. She darted through ranks of army soldiers, issuing commands for them to use their magic in creative ways: light and shadows to blind, ice and water to slick the path, rocks and roots to catch on marching feet.
Not as weapons, but as obstacles—the same strategy Diem had used to stop Vance in Sophos.
The Fortos Vice General seized her by the arm and yanked her back. He barked at his men to ignore her orders. He might not be killing his people out of selfishness, but his ego was about to do it for him.
“Do you really think Diem is dead?” Auralie asked.
My godhood answered first, pulsing so strongly from my chest it almost knocked me to my knees.
But I could not give her hope, nor the closure she sought. I wouldn’t rest until I held Diem in my arms, dead or alive.
“Go to the camp,” I said instead. “Keep the mortals behind the shield.”
“Where are you going?”
I pulled my sword free. “To serve my Queen.”
By the time I arrived, Ophiucae’s men were at the gate. Although Alixe had locked it closed, one man had begun to scale the ornate iron scrollwork.
I held out my palm and midnight shadows rose to meet it.
A swirling bog tumbled over the cobblestones and through the gate, rushing forward like an angry, ominous sea.
With each enemy it found, I wrapped their shields in a veil of churning obsidian that left them whirling and blind—including the Vice General, who found a patch of black vines clamping over his mouth.
Alixe caught my stare. Her answering frown was deep with judgment, but she wasn’t a fool. She turned to the soldiers. “More obstacles!”
The mortal atop the gates stared down at the dark void of my magic, hesitating at the prospect of leaping into the unknown. I fixated on the godstone sword in his hands. One weapon was all I needed. One glittering black blade, and even Ophiucae’s shield wouldn’t stop me.
I pulled the shadows in a shroud around me and crept forward just as the man threw his leg over the gate and began to descend. “Alixe,” I hissed through the bars. “The key.”
She squinted into the darkness. “Luther?”
“Give me the key to the gate.”
She tensed, edging back.
I pulled aside my magic just enough to expose my earnest stare. “My sister is in that palace, Alixe. For this battle, you and I are aligned.”
She pulled a key from inside her leathers and pressed it into my palm. “If they get through the gate . . .”
“I know,” I said darkly.
She turned her back to me, shouting, “Soldiers, tighten ranks. Forward—attack!”