31. Thirty-One #3
Nova drew up her sword, vaguely registering Callan’s shouted command to retreat to open ground.
Together, they ran past her uncle’s tent, Nox still safely shielded within, drawing the enemy out of the encampment and onto an empty expanse.
Gnarled trees dotted the sand, twisted branches stretching toward the sun like hands clawing their way toward the light.
The rhythmic cadence of Lucan’s four legs thudded close behind her.
As the three of them clambered up one of the dunes, she chanced a glance at the sky.
Amid the repera and the swarming ravens, swooping like splashes of black paint against the canvas of the clouds, Nova spied enormous falcons, hawks, and owls—shifters from Maedwen.
With hooked beaks and razor-sharp talons, the great birds battled the dark, winged beasts overhead.
When she crested the dune, Nova halted, breath ragged, her heart galloping as fast as the fleeing horses racing toward the horizon.
Lunar and Winter forces blocked the oncoming rush of Enchanted she and Callan had drawn out of the encampment.
From the east, a battalion of axe-wielding Wyldlings joined the fray accompanied by massive stags with dappled brown fur, spearing the enemy with their antlers.
Steel met flesh as the living dispatched the Enchanted.
Nova closed her eyes and called upon her magic once more, the thick white mist obscuring her vision and sending her entire body into a spasm as it burst forth, freeing more of the folk from the the Shadowbringer’s thrall.
As her vision returned, Nova’s knees nearly buckled, Illora’s gift claiming its tithe each time she called upon it.
Lucan shifted back into his Fae form. “I’m going back for Nox,” he shouted, his voice raw with more emotion than Nova had ever heard from him. Lucan turned to run, but Callan caught the commander’s elbow.
“He’s safe behind his shield,” Callan assured him. “We need you here to command your forces.”
Nova knew it was useless trying to reason with Lucan when his mate was in danger and his wolf sat so close to the surface.
Baring his teeth, Lucan snarled, his head snapping back and forth between Nova and the tent in the distance where Nox hid.
As Callan and Lucan argued, two avian forms dropped from the sky, and Nova whirled around to find Bryn and Riven shifting, feathers and talons giving way to armor and arrows.
“Riven,” Nova said with a half laugh. “I saw the raptors and stags. Has your brother changed his mind? Has Maedwen come to our aid?”
Riven pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’m afraid not.”
“He’s joined with Omen, then.” Panting, Nova squinted toward the northern shore and, beyond it, Raven’s Isle.
Riven scoffed, the sound full of scorn. “Artie’s a coward. He’ll wait to see who’s the victor. I brought as many as I could.”
“You’ve ten times more heart than your brother has,” Bryn said.
Nova gripped Bryn’s forearm. “Where is my father?”
The Wyldling shook her head. “Not here.”
Nova’s heart sank, her expression falling along with it.
She twisted to take in the battle raging below her.
The ground littered with the dead and dying.
Blood pooling in the black sand. The Aemorian forces were overrun with Enchanted.
She couldn’t free them all one by one—she’d die in the pursuit without even making a dent.
That part of her plan suddenly seemed wholly childish as she stood already weakened and drenched with sweat from channeling the Light.
No. Her father was a poisonous plant. The harm he caused, the darkness he unleashed on the world, would never be quelled by simply snipping off its bitter leaves and bloody blooms.
It must be torn out at the root.
Distracted, Callan shouted commands to the forces facing off against the Enchanted, his sword gripped in one hand as he flung shards of ice through the air with the other.
Nova’s chin trembled briefly as she looked upon her mate, the realization of what she must do settling like a stone in the pit of her stomach.
Though she might never lay eyes upon him again, she had neither the time nor the heart to bid him farewell.
Swallowing her sorrow, Nova turned back to Bryn and pulled her friend into an embrace, murmuring against her ear. “I’m the only one who can stop him.”
Bryn tried to pull away, but Nova held her tight with a hand pressed to the back of her head.
“Keep watch over Callan—you owe me.” Nova released Bryn then, adding, “A life for a life.”
Bryn nodded solemnly and laid her palm over her heart.
With that, Nova sprinted north toward the Gloaming Sea, bits of shadows breaking away from the shade pooled beneath the trees as she ran. In the span of a few racing beats of her heart, the shadow portal took shape, a doorway of swirling blackness forming before her.
Lady Samira’s voice echoed in her mind as Nova closed the distance between her and the shadowy mass: You’ve got to know where you’re going—to have seen the place before. Otherwise, you might end up somewhere you didn’t intend, or lose yourself all together.
Fortunately, in a dream soon after she’d arrived in Aemoria, her father had shown her where she could find him. A throne of shiny obsidian and a flash of silver eyes in a shaft of moonlight.
With that image held firmly in her mind’s eye, Nova dove into the darkness.