Chapter 26 #2
Alvara stiffened, the affectionate touch so foreign after years of isolation. But as the woody scent of his skin settled in and his arms tightened around her, she let him in. Gods damn it, how could she not? She nuzzled into his chest, splaying her fingers over the leather of his armor.
“I think I may owe you now, Alvara,” he said, his voice rough.
“Friends don’t ever owe each other.” Despite all odds, that’s what they had become—friends. She stayed, warm and safe, for one more breath before stepping back.
Boden rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose we should find the others and prepare for…” He didn’t finish—they both knew what was coming, the danger they would face.
They walked side by side in a snug silence, but the warmth fizzled out one ember at a time as they moved farther away from the peace and safety of the training grounds.
Too soon, the buildings of Ilmanir came into full view, each plank of wood and each clay tile made all the more beautiful by dawn’s blush caress.
A nauseating reminder of everything that might soon be lost.
A buzz hummed through the hordes of elves, the tension so strong Alvara could have used it for blacksmithing. As they neared the wall, panicked shouts punctured the air, and her heart hurtled toward her stomach. Boden cursed.
The runes.
The runes on the lowest level of stones were marred with talon marks, as if someone had done it in animal form.
The perfect way to stay undetected. The scratches were so small that Alvara could have almost convinced herself her mind was playing tricks on her.
But she knew. They all did. The rest of the wall would topple as soon as the bottom layer crumbled.
They had been betrayed.
Archers, a veil of snow from Alvara, all the plans that had hinged on the wall withstanding Nyrian magic had been destroyed. And once runes were altered, the damage could never be undone or fixed.
“Do we even have another plan?” Alvara asked. Various commanders barked orders at their soldiers, including some citizens who had chosen to stay and fight, their faces pale and tight in anticipation of what was to come. How many would survive?
“Don’t fade,” Boden said, his own gaze sweeping over the chaos unfolding in front of them.
“Smart, I don’t know why no one thought of that.
” She surveyed their options. “The trenches will still slow them down. I can be at the front with the Malvan wielders. Freeze as many enemies as I can in place so the others can steal their air and magic.” She waited for the argument from Boden that she could fight in a safer position, away from the front lines.
His desire to protect came as naturally as breathing.
“I didn’t let you fight for your city. You should fight for Ilmanir in the way you know best. Just remember the plan.” He touched her arm and strode away to where the other shifters waited.
Don’t fade. If only that were as simple as it sounded.
When the piercing cry of a falcon sliced through the morning fog, their signal that the enemy approached, Alvara struggled against the urge to retch on Ravanel, who stood as stoic as ever at her side. No doubt Boden’s doing.
At the first crack of stone, Alvara shoved aside the frantic thumping of her heart and engulfed herself in memories of her sister.
The wall before them collapsed into useless rubble, and a heavy stream of Nyrian wielders broke through, flinging rock and earth at everyone and everything in their path.
Alvara blasted ice at as many pairs of feet as she could muster, and her enemies raked at their throats and gasped for air, eyes bulging. The weight of her spear, so familiar, steadied her, even as their line splintered.
Grunts and screams battered her skull. Bile rose in her throat as gore flowed all around her.
Alvara hardly felt the first blow—a vine wrapped around her arm, its thorns embedded in her skin. She sliced the plant with the tip of her spear and lifted her weapon, hesitating for what she knew was only a moment, but it felt like a lifetime. Could she even do it?
The Elan elf advanced on her, his vines lunging for her throat, and she swung the shaft of her spear into his jaw with a crack.
He staggered backward, eyes wide. Either she faded or he did.
A single shard of ice was all it took, aimed for his exposed neck.
A mangled gurgle left his mouth as he clutched his throat, blood gushing over his spasming fingertips.
She turned away, sick. It was the first life she would take today, but it wouldn’t be the last. Somehow, knowing that didn’t make her feel any better.
Whatever organization had existed that morning had disintegrated, leaving only carnage in its wake. Bodies strewn about like broken dolls, insides exposed by claw and vine. Another cry of pain, another thud at her feet. A pair of lifeless green eyes, slackened lips drooling crimson.
A hand gripped her shoulder, and Alvara pivoted and whipped the point of her weapon right at Ravanel’s throat. He appeared untouched by the battle, a torn sleeve and a thin weeping cut the only evidence he had fought at all.
His gray eyes flicked to the enemy’s corpse. “You do what you have to. To survive.” Ravanel’s words carried on the wind of spirits leaving this realm. “Their numbers are too great. They’re advancing on the castle. We need as many bodies as we can protecting the king. Go.”
Alvara could only nod and sprint through the blurring battle. Her legs burned and her lungs gulped for air as she twisted and dodged, sliced and jabbed. She was nothing but a weapon of her own, no mind or conscience left to mourn the lives she stole.
“Please!”
Her feet skidded to a stop. Lilja. No, she couldn’t be here. And Boden—
A wall of stone slammed into Alvara. Her shoulder crashed into the ground, rattling her teeth. Blurry figures danced in her peripheral vision, and her nails scraped the earth, digging up dirt where her spear should have been.
Lilja’s distant scream shredded the morning air.
No. Boden couldn’t lose her. Not like she had lost Eloisa.
Another blur moved. Alvara channeled the energy tingling through her body into a shield and fashioned a slick spear of ice.
The earth caved beneath her feet, devouring her ankles and sinking her farther underground with each passing second.
Her weapon hurtled toward the sharpening form to her right and landed with a wet squelch that threatened to upturn her empty stomach.
She didn’t wait to see if the female lived. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
A wail of pain. A voice she knew all too well and never wanted to hear amidst this godsforsaken bloodshed. Alvara ripped herself out from the dirt and pressed her blazing muscles onward to scoop up her spear, paces away.
She may not have been able to spare her sister from her fate, but she could save Boden’s.
Lilja’s eyes were wild, a mouse hunted by a hawk. Her hand trembled as she flapped a sword she had gotten from gods knew where, while vines slithered along her flailing legs. Her bone-chilling screech jolted Alvara into action.
Alvara tossed a rock at the Elan elf’s back, erected a glittering shield, and lunged, ramming her spear into the charging enemy’s ribs with a sickening crunch.
She locked eyes with Lilja. “RUN!”
A thorned plant wrapped around Alvara’s neck and squeezed. Even as Boden’s sister scrambled to her feet and limped away, Alvara knew.
Lilja would never make it.
No air. Alvara gasped, her mind murky. She swung her weapon at a target that wasn’t there. Her magic. It was sluggish, receding into the shadows even as she yanked on its leash.
The darkness crept in and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, promising rest.
Flames erupted in front of her, engulfing her captor and clogging her lungs with the scent of charred flesh. The elf squealed like a pig cornered for butchering. That terrible sound…
“Are you all right?”
Alvara tore her eyes from the scorched body and forced herself to focus on Aurilena’s pinched features. Spatters of someone’s insides tainted her dark brown skin, but she was alive.
“Lilja.” Had she made it?
Alvara skimmed the battlefield and cursed.
A massive wolf circled Lilja, baring fangs that could rip out her throat in mere seconds.
Offering a hurried prayer to Vitharen, Alvara yelled and launched her spear, counting her heartbeats as it sailed toward the shifter.
The metal sank into the wolf’s fur, and the animal yelped and whirled, brown eyes fixed on her.
She gripped Aurilena’s wrist. “Get her to safety.”
“But—”
“Please, Aurilena. Boden can’t lose her.”