Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
The soft pink and orange rays of dawn painted the water with delicate brushstrokes, nature’s stained glass that perfectly captured this moment of tranquil beauty.
A reminder of her sister. Eloisa would be with her today, even when the glass shattered in the face of violence, leaving it all a distant memory.
It felt wrong to stand on these shores with her spear and shield in hand, dressed for battle.
To see the multitude of ships in the harbor, the warriors from other towns who had come to fight alongside them.
The land, its people, deserved so much more than the suffering that waited on their doorstep.
“I would say we could spar, but I doubt we have time for that,” Boden said behind her.
He wore human clothing, as most of them would today, and his short beard helped him blend in even more than the others.
He lifted the helmet he held in his hand and scowled.
“Are you really going to force me to wear this?”
“Yes, and stop complaining. Most of the human warriors would kill to have one of those,” Alvara said as she tapped it with her spear.
They didn’t have enough time, money, or supplies to give every human and elf all the armor they would have liked, but she had Oda convince the local armorer to craft him a helmet to go with his leather armor, since it wasn’t one of Alvara’s specialties.
She would’ve preferred to cover him head to toe in chainmail, but she would have needed a few lifetimes of money to make that possible.
Boden watched her in that thoughtful way of his. “He has an entire army to worry about, Alvara. He won’t waste his breath on me.”
Maybe not, but it was necessary so she could focus on her only task: killing the king. Boden had offered more than once, but Alvara needed to do it. She wouldn’t put him or anyone else in that kind of danger, not to save herself.
“Your insistence on short hair is what’s going to get you killed.” She placed her weapon on the ground and tugged a few longer pieces of his hair over his pointed ears. “I could have Aurilena illusion—”
“No,” Aurilena said as she walked past them.
Boden chuckled and wrapped his hand gently around Alvara’s wrist. Her heart almost burst out of her chest. “I will be fine. And I think she may still be upset with you.”
“And you’re sure you’re not?” Alvara whispered.
He laid her hand on his cheek and leaned into her touch.
“What I’m sure of is that you’ve done more than enough in the last two weeks to convince me that you’re sorry.
The powder, dressing as humans, the wall—never mind, that one I could have done without.
It’s been putting off a quite atrocious smell for the last few days, and—”
Alvara covered his mouth with her hand and grinned. “Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”
Someone coughed behind them, and she dropped her arm. “Chief Frigar wants to meet with you, if you’re not too busy,” Kat said, raising her eyebrows at Boden.
He nodded and looked at Alvara. “Stay safe, please. I—”
“What about me? Aren’t you worried about my safety?” Kat asked.
He sighed. “You’re able to shift into a bird and fly away whenever you’d like, Kat. I’m not terribly concerned about your ability to make it out alive.”
Kat huffed and put her hands on her hips. “I guess you make a good point, continue.”
Boden gave her a long look before speaking. “As I was saying, since I met you—”
“Oh, shut it.” Alvara leapt forward, wrapped her arms around him, and laid her head on his chest. He squeezed her to him and settled his chin on top of her hair, and his beard tickled her scalp.
“In case you were wondering, it was a really lovely speech.” Boden’s chest rumbled underneath her as he spoke.
“I know.” Alvara would have made Helvati herself wait if it meant she could breathe him in for one more moment, hear his heart beat just a few more times.
But instead, Chief Frigar’s voice rang out, which only meant one thing. They broke apart, leaving her feeling so cold, even on this beautiful ela day.
“Don’t fade,” Boden said as he backed away. He pointed a finger at Kat. “You too, Kat.”
“You too, Kat. That’s what you’ve made me now, Alvara. An afterthought.” Kat hugged Alvara tight enough to squeeze every drop of moonlight out of her.
Alvara tried not to watch as Boden walked away, but the human phrase he had uttered the night before still scratched at her mind.
She could ask Oda or Kat, though with her pathetic grasp of the human language she could hardly remember the right words or pronunciation, but something about what he had said had felt… personal.
“Boden,” she called out, ignoring how her chest tightened when he turned to look at her. “What you said last night, what does it mean?”
“Survive this, and maybe I’ll consider telling you.” One last grin lit his face and stole all the air from her lungs. “Oh, and there’s one more thing I’d like to tell you in case…I thought the selkie was you, Alvara. I thought you should know.”
With that, he disappeared into the throngs of soldiers, leaving Alvara gaping like a fish. If Boden had thought she was the selkie, that meant the kiss, what she felt, what he felt…
Kat whipped her head toward Alvara. “Selkie? Wait, did you two…?”
“No. Well, yes.” Kat’s eyes widened, and Alvara rushed her next words. “Oh gods, not like that. And it wasn’t even a real kiss. Just forget I said anything.”
Her friend puckered her lips. “Sounds like a real kiss to me.”
“I would rather cut my own tongue out than continue this conversation. Ready?”
The humor drained from Kat’s eyes. “Not at all. You?”
“No. But that doesn’t really matter, does it?” She looked at her friend one last time, and stones piled in her gut. “Thank you, for everything. For believing in me, being there for me. I can see why Eloisa liked you.”
The edges of Kat’s hazel eyes crinkled. Somehow, their lavender rings seemed brighter today. “You know, you’re more like her than you think. Unfortunately, now I have to go drop this stinking powder on some soldiers. I’ll see you after the battle.”
“See you after this is all over,” Alvara said.
And she hoped it wasn’t a lie.
Alvara stood behind the water-filled moat that lined the inner part of the town wall, giving it a generous berth, though Aurilena and the rest of the Valonian wielders had illusioned it and left small marks in the dirt to let her and the others know where not to step.
Her clammy fingers trembled where they grasped her spear and shield.
The fear, it was good—it meant she still had things left to lose.
It kept her alert and would fuel her when all else gave out.
Being afraid meant she was still alive and hadn’t yet faced the blood and fading that waited on the other side of the wall.
The structure looked just as it had on the day they had arrived at the human lands, seemingly useless in the face of the wielders that advanced. But she knew, and those on her side all knew or at least hoped, that the changes they had made would take the enemy by surprise.
The cry of a falcon—the signal that it was all about to begin.
Each beat of Alvara’s heart drummed louder and louder in her ears, and her vision shrank until she could only see the narrow path from her feet to the wall.
Arrows twanged from the archers stationed on top of the wall and in the watchtowers, those that had been willing to sacrifice their lives to help deplete the enemy forces before they breached the town’s defenses.
The screams started, and stone and fire answered the attack with cracked skulls and burned bodies.
The stench of scorched skin and the copper tang of blood flooded the air, and soon the heaving of her lungs was the only sound she could hear.
She gripped her spear tighter with each second, her knuckles draining of their color just like the faces of the allies around her.
Flames licked past the top of the wall, wood cracking and groaning under the assault, and the wall gave way.
But not in the way the enemy had expected.
Over the past two weeks, they had rebuilt the wall, piling debris, animal bones, shells, anything other than earth or wood on the inside, so no wielder could manipulate it. The result was an avalanche that flowed into King Einar’s soldiers, one they would have to climb over to reach the town.
The frustrated grunts and yells of his elves wading through the wreckage disintegrated into howls and wails of agony as the first line of Alvara’s people, the only elves not disguised as humans, met them with every type of magic available, except ice.
That would have to wait.
A few stragglers clawed their way through, slicing open stomachs and setting flesh aflame. Alvara’s breaths came faster, and she bounced on her toes to keep from locking her knees and passing out. Wait. She had to wait.
As soon as their feet splashed in the water of the moats, Alvara welcomed her power and froze patches of ice where enemies stood, rendering them sitting targets for the other wielders to demolish.
Bodies flowed into the town, and the human and demi-elf warriors behind her became restless.
But soon enough, Kat flew above the enemies on the other side of what remained of the wall and released the neutralizing powder in a cloud of crimson.
They didn’t have enough to extinguish the magic of all of King Einar’s forces, but it would render a sizable number of his soldiers useless, a substantial advantage.
His elves’ powers would slip from their grasp for at least a few hours, though it didn’t matter. None of them would live that long.
Coughs and cries morphed into panicked shouts as the powder took effect, and the humans and demi-elves charged.
The enemy could do nothing as metal severed their limbs and tore open their insides, bathing the ground beneath them in rivers of sticky blood.
Alvara met any who had escaped with her spear and shield when she was able, and when she wasn’t, she let every memory of her family she had locked away for so long flood her veins and feed her magic.
Power surged through her as she cleaved her enemies’ souls from their bodies with surprising strength, and the demi-elves around her fought with similar ease. Their deeper connection with their emotions heightened their magic as they smashed elves with earth and throttled them with vines.
One more wave of powder, and they were left to fight the soldiers untouched by its red dust. Alvara had already revealed herself as a magic user, but many wielders still hid under human disguises.
King Einar’s army approached them with a confidence that was stolen from their very lungs by Rav and the Malvan elves.
The blows to Alvara’s muscles, the thorns that ripped her skin open, she hardly noticed them as she stabbed and skewered and stepped over corpses. She was waiting.
For him.
King Einar broke through the hordes of bodies on a horse, of all things. As if he wanted to flaunt the power of Helvati’s blade. To prove that with it, he couldn’t be defeated. He only watched the bloodshed, dagger in hand, not bothering to offer his magic in aid to his own elves.
Bastard. It was time for this all to end.
Alvara sliced her spear across the stomach of an Elan elf, spilling his putrid guts. One step. An ice shard punctured the heart of a Valonian elf and poured her lifeblood into the dirt. Another step. A Nyrian elf, a wolf, frozen in a glittering cage, soon demolished by a demi-elf.
Each life she added to her conscience, each soul she stole, it formed a gruesome path toward the only one that mattered.
Paces away, King Einar’s vile green eyes found her.
No recognition crossed his features. Didn’t he know what he’d done, everything he’d taken from her?
He pressed his horse forward, trampling elves and shattering bones with a prideful sneer that made Alvara even more sick to her stomach than she already was.
Her magic was tired, but it wasn’t empty. Eloisa. Her mother. Her father. The love, the guilt, the rage—she let all of it feed her powers as she hurled the bleeding heart of her kingdom at his horse’s feet.
She chained its hooves to the earth with ice, and the animal lurched forward, throwing King Einar to the ground. Helvati’s blade flew from his grip.
Now. Her magic swallowed him as she ran, encasing him in sparkling ice that stunted his movements. It left only his neck exposed, the strike that would end it all.
She tossed her weapon aside and wrapped her shaking fingers around the hilt of Helvati’s dagger. Everything dimmed around her, except the murderous being lying at her feet. At her mercy.
Which she had none of.
“This is for my family!” Alvara stabbed the blade into the base of King Einar’s skull, twisting the dagger with a squelch to ensure his demise. Without him, his army would fall. Victory would be theirs. They had won, they had—
As his wound spurted, staining the soil a sticky scarlet and forcing the lifeblood pumping through his poisonous heart into the earth, King Einar…changed.
Long, black braids replaced his ash brown hair, and his skin turned a deep brown instead of its regular tawny hue. The dagger Alvara held became nothing but a simple blade, devoid of Helvati.
She hadn’t killed King Einar.
She had killed his bait.