35. Filippa #3
She drops a few feet, struggling to stay aloft and hold the shield steady, hands shaking under the pressure. I’m yards from her now, able to feel the heat of the magic searing above her even through the shield. It bakes the skin on my face as I fly up from below and brace against her back.
“I’m here,” I promise. “I’ve got you.”
“My magic…it’s not…enough…” she grunts through gritted teeth. As we both watch, horrified, some of the burning hot magic pours off the sides of her shield. Sheets of it rain down onto the battle below.
The fighters it hits probably don’t even see it coming, instantly evaporating in a blast of blue flame, but the screams that rise up around them echo across the plains.
The black magic pummels Leah’s shield, and my arms and wings burn with the effort of holding her steady against the onslaught. She shakes in my arms, feathers quivering against my cheek. It seems like an age until the pressure on both of us diminishes a touch.
I tear my focus away from her and glance down to see multiple rifts open across the plains.
The ephilium and demon armies are retreating back to their realms, fleeing this strange magic and leaving Leah to face it alone.
By now, however, the wave of power is mostly spent—having either burned through its victims or dissipated in a fog of blue mist.
Slowly, I start to lower us down toward the earth, cradling Leah as we descend.
Her shield retreats across the sky as we go, shrinking down until it’s just a set of sparks and wisps of shadows between her fingers again.
When my feet touch the earth, the last remnants of the shield vanish, and she drops her arms, slumping against me.
My hand automatically goes to her back, fingers rubbing between her shoulder blades as I try to process what just happened.
“How did you do that?”
She sighs into my shoulder. “I realized I could conjure both at the same time this morning. I’ve not managed to do it before. And then when that thing exploded…”
I wait, my hand stilling against her back.
“…I don’t know. Something just told me what to do. Instinct, or foresight, or whatever you want to call it. I just sort of…went with it.”
I hold Leah close, wondering if this woman will ever truly be knowable to me. It seems there are always facets of her that elude me—the distance between us too great to cross, and me shut out from her no matter how hard I try to get closer.
It fills my chest with a tightness: the pain of separation, yes, but the panic of it too.
That was not the first time I thought I was being forced to stand by and watch as Leah died.
How many more times will I have to endure it until we reach the end of the road?
Until perhaps the prophecy decides a path for us—one that’s surely already been set in motion, given what Leah just achieved?
I don’t say any of this, however, as we slowly fly back toward the city walls. Leah’s made it clear she holds no water with the prophecy, and neither of us is in a state to debate it right now. Instead, I focus on the most immediate danger.
“Did you sense anything about the weapon’s magic when it exploded? Maybe something that points to its origin?” I ask.
“No,” she says, pausing to think before she speaks again. “I know it was a runic spell, but it couldn’t have been someone from Infernum who created it, right?”
I swallow, remembering the way soldiers from both sides were vaporized by the magic. “It doesn’t make sense for either ephilium or demon forces to have planted it. No one would be willing to kill off thousands of their own kind just to deliver an equivalent blow to the enemy.”
“So…you think the sorcerers?” she asks. “Some of the runes were the same as the ones they used.”
I nod. “They would’ve had access to the plains and the means.”
“But why would they do it?” Leah asks. “What was the motivation? From the way they summon demons, I’d have said they’re much more comfortable with winger magic than the average Stratan. So what’s the end game?”
“People have all sorts of twisted motivations,” I point out. “What I’m more concerned with is the scale of the power. Even with the oldest runes, no human should’ve been able to conjure something so strong. Sorcerers or not, someone supernatural must’ve been involved.”
I intend to lead Leah back over the city walls. But as we get closer to Pax, I see that the city gates are open, a crowd of wardens waiting just inside them.
I look to Leah to see if maybe this is normal. After all, she’d know better than me how things play out after a battle. But she’s frowning down at the wardens as they call and signal to us.
“They look like they’re waiting for us,” she says. “Maybe Strickland sent an escort to bring us back to the Assembly? You don’t think us getting involved in the battle changed his mind about giving you sanctuary, do you?”
I scan the faces of the humans below, looking for any sign of hostility, and my eyes alight on a familiar face among the crowd.
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”