Chapter 48
Chapter forty-eight
From The Ashes
Iraced to Darion’s side.
He was no longer the man who had deceived me. He was the man who had stayed and sacrificed everything.
Blood flowed from a gash to the left of his stomach. I ripped off a piece of bed linen and tied it around his waist. “Try to keep pressure on it.”
He nodded with a grimace, hissing through his bared teeth.
I paused, wondering if I should look for Orlik’s ring. But the shaking building and ever-growing red stain on Darion’s side convinced me otherwise.
“C’mon, we have to go,” I said, helping him to his feet, his arm around my shoulders. “Can you walk?”
Darion yelped as he shifted his stance. “Not very well.”
His legs trembled, and for a moment, I thought he’d collapse. I tightened my grip and took more of his weight.
“We’ll have to make do,” I said.
We hobbled out of the room and down the hallway.
The building shook under our feet as we made our way across the balcony, heading for the central staircase. Sections of the walls crumbled. The king’s banners were ablaze, as was nearly everything else flammable. The last remaining people poured out of the keep.
Darion stumbled, and I barely caught him. His tunic was stained red with far too much blood.
I looked down at the eighteen flights of twisting stairs we’d have to descend. It seemed impossible, but we began to make our way down as fast as we could. Balconies connecting the staircase to the building’s sides crumbled before our eyes. The entire massive staircase began to shift.
Darion’s breathing was labored. His face was pale. “Cas,” he said faintly as his eyelids fluttered.
“Stay with me,” I said, hating how desperate my voice sounded.
We still had halfway to go, but I wasn’t sure if the staircase would stand for more than a few more seconds. And I wasn’t sure if Darion could last, either.
One of the enormous banners on the side of the room farthest from the fire was still intact, billowing in the rising heat. The stairs beneath our feet began to give way. There was nowhere else to run.
I pulled out my dagger and said, “Put your arms around my neck.”
Darion shook his head, understanding my desperate plan. “It will never work.”
“No time to argue!”
The moment Darion wrapped his arms around me, I kicked off the edge of the staircase with all my strength, leaping toward the banner with my dagger extended. The blade pierced the fabric, and we rode the banner down, clinging to the hilt for dear life as flames danced around us.
But Darion’s weight was too much. My hand slipped on the hilt and we dropped like stones.
I frantically grabbed at the banner with a raw, unbridled energy I’d never felt before.
My nails dug into the fabric as a pain like all the hells combined burned at my fingertips, clawing the banner to shreds in long, parallel gouges.
It was just enough to slow our fall. It shouldn’t have worked—but somehow it did.
We still hit the stone floor hard, and Darion cried out in pain. His legs buckled beneath him, and he collapsed to the ground.
“We’ve almost made it,” I cried. “Please, just a bit farther.”
He nodded through his grimace. I got his arm around my shoulders again and lifted him up, and we continued on our way.
The floor and the surrounding walls where the bomb had gone off were simply gone, as if some giant had carved them out with a knife. Mrs. Crowe’s lifeless body lay next to the hole. I choked back a sob.
As Darion and I left the hall, the entire central staircase toppled into the wall. The roof, impossibly far up, collapsed and tumbled toward the floor.
We hobbled through the main foyer that Mrs. Crowe and I had entered less than an hour before.
A massive billow of dust and smoke cascaded out of the grand atrium we had just left.
Only Darion, a few last survivors, and I made it out of the front gates and down the narrow bridge as the remaining structure crumbled behind us.
The oppressive null field wavered, then dissipated completely.
All eyes were on the destruction. No one noticed two stragglers pushing through the crowd.
There was a deafening roar, then utter silence. Thornfell Keep was no more.
As we stumbled through the streets to Mrs. Crowe’s shop, the dust and ash billowing around us made us cough. Darion’s steps slowed, and his weight on me grew heavier with each passing block. His skin felt cold against my own.
Finally, Mrs. Crowe’s shop stood before us. I stared at the door, knowing that if Elena wasn’t there, it would break me in a way I couldn’t fix. I pushed through, awaiting my fate.
Elena stood just inside. In a flash, my worry for her melted away, replaced with concern for Darion.
Instantly understanding, Elena raced to his side just as his legs gave way.
Darion lay on a bed in the back room, burning with fever and sleeping fitfully. I had cleaned his wound with antiseptic, sewn it up, and bound it as tight as I dared. That was everything I knew how to do. Now all we could do was wait.
I sat next to the bed, lightly clutching Darion’s hand, listening to his labored breathing and counting the time between each rise of his chest. Elena hovered nearby, wiping the sweat from his brow and watching with quiet resolve. Her intense love for him was plain to see.
Much later, after my hand had grown numb from gripping his, Darion’s breathing steadied. The worst of his bleeding had stopped, and the fever had passed.
Elena looked on, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. The hangover from the Embercloak potion was starting to take hold. It was hitting me too, as I struggled to keep my eyes open.
“Is he going to make it?” she asked.
“I think so,” I said, sending her a reassuring smile.
I breathed in deeply, then lightly kissed Darion’s forehead, relief flooding through me.
Outside, the sounds of chaos continued. Somewhere out there, The Butcher still drew breath. The Sentinels still hunted. The king’s armies wouldn’t stop until all Emberborn were dead or enslaved.
But something fundamental had changed within me. For the first time since my parents had died, I didn’t feel as if I were standing against the world alone. Elena had grown strong and powerful. And Darion had chosen us—chosen me, even when it had cost him everything.
I leaned down, pressed my forehead to Darion’s, and quietly made a promise.
Not to close myself off.
Not to seek vengeance in isolation.
Not to wage my battles alone without trusting others.
Whatever came next, I would both fight and love without letting one destroy the other. And this time, I wouldn’t face the future alone.
I felt a warmth growing through me, similar to the feel of Ember, but different somehow.
Wild. Primal. A flash of light caught my eye—a sudden shimmer from a dark window across the room.
But then I realized I wasn’t looking through the window.
It was a reflection. My eyes were golden and glowing. And something else was off.
For just an instant, so brief I thought I imagined it, my pupils were thin and vertical. I blinked, and they were back to normal.
My heart sped up. I didn’t move. I couldn’t move.
The shredded banner. My burning nails. My eyes. Orlik’s words replayed in my head. I bet you don’t even know what you are, do you?
But I had no time to process that as the door to the shop burst open.
Looming in the doorway stood a familiar silhouette. Kael stepped into the shop, brandishing a sword.
Elena was on her feet instantly, blade drawn. I reached for my dagger, ready to strike, but the Embercloak hangover dragged at my limbs, making my moves sluggish.
“For all the gods’ sake, stop!” Kael shouted, raising his hand, palm out. “Trust me or don’t. But Sentinels are headed this way.”
“How could we possibly trust you?” I snapped. “You kidnapped Elena. You attacked Darion. How do we know you’re not a spy?”
“I’ve been trying to protect Elena from a spy in the Order,” Kael said. “That’s why I kept her from the rendezvous. I tried to tell you that before Darion attacked me.”
“But why do you even care what happens to us?” I asked.
“Because the Crown desperately wants both of you. And I’ve seen the bounty orders.”
Kael fixed his gaze on me. “They want you dead, Cassian.”
Then he turned to Elena. “And they want you alive.”
The sound of boots on stone came from outside, getting closer. There was only a moment to decide.
I had just made a promise to trust others. The first test of that promise had already arrived.
“Help me move Darion,” I said. “We go together, or not at all.”