Chapter 44 #3
In the chaos of the flying arrows, the horses had lost their interest in me. They stomped in a frenzy as Vance and his men wrestled for control. Vance dismounted to keep from being thrown and seized his reins. He turned his back to me to bark orders at his men, and I finally had my chance.
I lifted my sword to my shoulder, aiming the point of its blade for Vance’s chest. My arm reared back.
“I’ve got a clear shot on the Queen!”
The words stopped me mid-throw. One of Vance’s men had lifted his crossbow, the glittering black tip of its bolt pointed toward the battlefield. I glanced back to see that a hole had opened in the fighting, leaving Diem exposed.
The godstone point would easily slice through her shield. She claimed to be immune to the toxin, but she wasn’t immune to arrows and blades. If it pierced her in just the wrong place—Blessed Kindred, if it hit her heart . . .
“Take the shot,” Vance yelled.
I looked at him, my sword still aimed at his chest. His death would prevent so many others.
It would likely cost Ophiucae his mortal army, perhaps even the war.
And if I let Vance walk away, gods only knew how many more Descended he would torture and cut down.
Diem would insist that the risk of her death was not worth the risk of letting him live.
“Take the shot,” Vance growled again.
I knew the choice my Queen would order me to make.
But I had sworn to let the world burn to protect her—and I always kept my promise.
The man with the crossbow frowned, staring at his hands. “I can’t. He must have—”
Too late. My arm swung, my sword flew, and its blade sank deep into the man’s neck. The crossbow tumbled from his hands, and he fell.
Vance swore and leapt back onto his horse. “They’ve got people hidden around us. Time to go.”
Another man ran to check on the mortal I’d wounded. “I’m not sure he can ride.”
“Leave him,” Vance said. “Take the godstone.”
The man cringed as he slid the sword free of his comrade’s throat. The wounded man grabbed his arm, gurgling for help, but he took the crossbow and left the man behind, weaponless and bleeding.
“What about the rest of them?” another man asked, jerking his chin toward the field.
“I’ll send the others in,” Vance said with a shrug. “Let ’em die. Ophiucae can get more.”
Vance let out a series of whistles, and a rumbling sound began to roll through the trees. On the opposite side of the battlefield, a long line of Sophosians emerged from the forest, ambushing our army from behind. Moments later, a second line joined them.
From the sides of the field, another line marched out of hiding. Then another.
The numbers were staggering. I doubted a single soul in Sophos had escaped Ophiucae’s control, mortal or Descended.
Though Diem’s back was to me, her long white braid swinging in the breeze, I knew what her expression would hold. I felt each and every emotion as if they were my own.
The despair. The defeat.
The terrible realization of the choice that lay before her.
The field erupted in chaos. Diem had refused a uniform for our army, wanting to allow each faction to preserve their identity, even in battle.
That was proving to be a critical mistake.
With the Sophos Descended’s clothing as wide and varied as ours, it became impossible to distinguish friend from foe.
Only their vacant, foggy gaze revealed the difference, but the time it took to spot was time our soldiers didn’t have.
Swords swung and magic flew, each with indiscriminate blindness for what they struck.
For every step I pushed forward, an attack knocked me two steps back.
I let my magic unleash in a violent blast, shredding through bodies with my shadows and scorching the earth with my light to force a bloody pathway to my Queen.
“We have to end this,” I shouted at her. “We’re too outnumbered.”
She could barely spare me a glance. Though the Sophos Descended were still ignoring her presence, her troops were fighting for their lives. Her hands flew in a flurry, casting shields as fast as she could craft them and conjuring bursts of wind to knock the armies apart.
“Tell Alixe to call a retreat,” she yelled back.
“It’s no use. They’ll follow us.”
“We’ll keep moving until Vance calls them back. He can’t chase us forever.”
“Diem, Vance is gone.”
Her eyes shot to the empty space where he’d been standing. “He left them?”
“Can you use your magic to change their orders?”
Her anguished look answered with a truth she wasn’t ready to admit. “I’ll find a way. Give me a little more time.”
“My Queen . . . we don’t have more time.” I started toward her when a teenage boy lurched into my path and beat his fists against my shield. His young age surprised me just enough to make me pause—then his frosted brown eyes struck me like a fist.
“Stuart?” I said.
There was no gleam of recognition in his empty stare.
My stomach dropped. I’d had no fondness for the boy when I’d met him in Sophos and witnessed his shameless infatuation with Diem, but he didn’t deserve this. He was a library clerk, not a soldier. This was either punishment for him, for defending his Descended neighbors—or a punishment for Diem.
I lowered my shield to let him through. He carried no weapons, wielded no magic. His scrawny limbs were little threat as they pounded against my chest.
I grabbed him by the scruff and turned him to Diem. I would have given anything to spare her this pain, but it was a truth she needed to see.
“Stuart,” she cried. “No—he’s a mortal. He’s a boy.” She seized his face in her hands, her voice thrumming with Umbros compulsion. “Tell me you can hear me.”
He didn’t answer.
Her fingers gripped tighter. “Tell me anything. Your favorite color. What realm you come from.” Her eyes frantically searched his. “Tell me your mother’s name.”
“He’s gone, my heart,” I said.
Her head gave a violent shake. “I won’t give up.” I reached for her and she jerked away. “I can save them!”
“Diem, they’re gone. If you don’t accept it, you’re going to lose our people with them.”
Her eyes lifted to the battlefield—to the sea of clashing fighters and the lifeless bodies mounting with every second.
As tenderly as I could, I pried her hands off Stuart.
“Remember what Yrselle told us? If their minds are gone, they can’t be saved.
” Our hearts thrashed together in mutual protest: Mine, begging me not to speak the words I knew I had to.
Hers, begging her not to believe them. “You have to let them go.”
“But they’re innocent.” Her voice was so small.
I would have let the realm fall to spare her this. I would have forsaken the Blessed Mother and laid my soul at the feet of any rival god, if that’s what it took.
But the only god with the power to end this had already reaped their souls. All we could do was bring their purgatory to an end.
Slowly, she closed her eyes. Bowed her head. “Take Stuart. Get him to the woods. Keep him safe.”
“Diem—”
“Take Stuart and go.”
My body abruptly stiffened. Compelled by her magic, I unwillingly moved to obey. Even my magic seized to a stop, replaced by her shield as I hauled Stuart over my shoulder and strode into the thick of battle.
Behind me, I heard her whisper: “Retreat.”