Chapter 36 Rosalina
Rosalina
Ascream breaks out of my throat. The underfae blocking my way dies before he raises his spear. My briars act of their own accord, wrapping around his neck and twisting until it snaps. I leap over his dead body.
Irahn wheezes, clutching at the wooden pike in his chest. Sira lifts him up with inhumane strength, laughing as he slides farther down the pole. Blood spurts from his mouth. With a grunt, she shoves the pike up against the bridge house’s stone wall, making Irahn hang like a horrifying puppet.
Kel’s roar is pure rage. He slams to the ground from the boosted leap my briars gave him, then immediately stands, sword drawn to attack.
But there are so many underfae. They swarm him, and it’s all he can do to keep their blades away from him.
But I see the wrath in his eyes. One underfae falls beneath his blade. Then a second.
Even these trained warriors are no match for the Sword of the Protector wielded with such unchained fury.
I feel it growing in myself. I’m not sure if it’s Kel’s emotions seeping through the bond or my own, but a crazed buzzing fills my head. Sira thinks she’s unstoppable. Thinks she can keep taking what is ours.
I am the fucking Princess of the Enchanted Vale.
This is my home. My family.
She will die for this. Die screaming for all the pain she’s brought me.
A roar of my own escapes, and I charge her like a lioness uncaged. My briars stab through the rib cage of one of the underfae attacking Kel, then snap the neck of another. I’ve never fought this way, never killed creatures that seem so human.
But I don’t care. They deserve to die. All of them!
Kel and I stand, chests heaving, amid a pile of corpses. We look up at Sira, matching gazes of fire.
Sira has the good fucking sense to back up.
A shape emerges from behind her. Straight-backed, hand on the hilt of his undrawn sword, Faustrius appears as if he’s observing a painting, not standing in the midst of a battle.
“It looks like things are under control here, Faustrius,” Sira says. “I shall leave the rest of the Deep Guard’s destruction in your capable hands.”
The shadows covering her legs, making her appear the height of a giantess, swirl around her, claiming her torso and arms. No. No, no, no. She’s running away!
“You coward!” I scream. I shoot a briar out, but it only hisses through smoke.
The last remaining pieces of her are her vibrant green eyes and a cruel smile. “Until next time, Princess. I’ve got a little birdy to find.”
Then she’s gone.
My chest heaves, and I stand like a statue, my arm still reaching out as if throwing another briar is any use. She’s gone.
Faustrius turns, his cape snapping in the icy wind. He looks to one of the underfae near him. “Kill them,” he says.
Then he’s gone too, swallowed by a crowd of his soldiers heading straight toward us.
Kel holds his sword up in a defensive position but casts his gaze at me. “Help him,” he says, then charges into the fray.
“Kel!” But there’s nothing to be done. He’s already clashing blades and sending sprays of ice daggers through the enemy.
I look up at the guard tower where Irahn is pinned. A choking wheeze escapes him.
“Irahn!” As gently as I can, I spiral my briars up to wrap around his body, easing him and the flagpole still embedded in his chest down to the ground.
His face is ghastly pale, blood running from both sides of his mouth, from his nose. His eyes are glassy and far away. Every breath sounds wet.
“Irahn, I’m here. It’s okay. I’m going to help you.” I stroke a lock of gray hair off his sweaty brow. The blessing of Spring thrums inside me. I saved Kairyn’s life. I can save his.
My hands press against his chest, just above the wooden pike jutting through his ribs. Oh god. This is so different from Kairyn. Do I pull this out? Leave it in? How do I mend the broken pieces of bone with this thing stuck through him?
Shakily, Irahn brings a bloody hand up and clasps my wrist, tugging it away from him. He shakes his head.
“No, I can save you,” I gasp. Tears stream down my face.
“I go to the stars,” he whispers. “Let my nephew know that when I greet his mother and father again, I shall tell them of the great man their son has become.”
A sob cracks out of me, and I clutch Irahn’s hand. He squeezes back. Then his grip releases. The wheezing rattle of his breath silences. There are only my pained gasps and the hum of Spring’s blessing within me, feeling the echo of his heartbeat seep away, like dewdrops on a leaf.
I can’t leave him like this. Fuck that an arrow could come for me at any moment. That an underfae could sneak past Kel and strike me down with one blow. I won’t leave him like this. Sira can take his life, but she cannot take his honor.
With a sickening squelch, I pull the flagpole out of his chest. I can barely see through my tears, but I won’t leave it inside him.
Tugging the flag of Winter from it, I stare down at the sigil.
The flag is huge, the color of sapphire and emblazoned with seven shooting stars.
As fine a blanket as any. Slowly, I lay it over his body, closing his eyes before I cover his head.
“Thank you for believing in Kel,” I whisper.
Golden briars lace around him, encasing him in a coffin of thorns. Carefully, I ease them skyward toward the airship. They’re met by a tangle of purple briars that lifts them over the edge.
Rosalina. It’s Ezryn’s voice in my mind. Irahn…
He’s dead. It’s all I can manage.
I don’t hear any words, but I feel a wave of grief pouring through the bond. He wasn’t just Kel’s uncle but a mentor to Ez.
I can’t stop, can’t fall apart yet. I wipe my tears. Sadness can wait. I need to fight.
Rose, we’re almost out of arrows up here. The sails are shredded. Ezryn’s voice, normally so calm, matter-of-fact, wavers. We have to retreat.
Retreat?
I stumble back. Retreat. Abandon Voidseal Bridge to Sira’s allies. No, we can’t…
But how can we stay?
Eyes wide, face falling in horror, I look around. Truly look around. Every member of the Deep Guard left is hemmed in by underfae. Our arrow reserves are near empty. Hideous mole creatures barrel down the length of the bridge, their riders picking off our soldiers with a single swing of a spear.
Underfae surround Kel. Each time he brings one down, another takes its place. And where are the other princes?
I spin in a circle, searching for them. There, far away, I spot Farron.
He’s engulfed in orange flame, shooting fireballs at a buzzing contraption overhead, operated by Perth Quellos.
Past him, I catch sight of Dayton. Bright sparks of lightning narrowly avoid him as he runs, trying to get away from the green-haired priestess and her crystal staff.
Finally, I cast my gaze upward. Smoke putters out of the propellers, and there’s a massive hole through the sail, most likely caused by a barrage of arrows.
Ezryn is at the wheel, face gritted as he tries to hold it steady.
Where once it had been flanked by the great winged birds of the Kryodian Riders, now there are only a dozen riders left.
With horror, I watch as one of the hawks is struck in the heart by an arrow and falls to the ground with a dying keen.
Its rider is smashed beneath its body as they collide with the bridge.
Ez is right. We don’t have a choice.
We have to retreat.
There’s still Deep Guard all over the bridge, I say to Ez in my mind. Can we evacuate them on the airship?
Caspian’s trying to pull them up where he can, but there’s too many. This ship’s over capacity already. I’ll barely be able to limp us back to Frostfang as it is.
Breath catches in my throat. I stagger in a circle, the horror of the battle crashing over me. Countless soldiers who have dedicated their lives to protecting Winter… We can’t leave them. We can’t just take the ship and run while they’re still fighting.
Isn’t this what I ordered? What I wanted?
Battle? Bloodshed?
No. I wanted to save the lives of those I loved. Instead, my command got Irahn killed.
When my mother was queen, she would never let this happen. Whatever miracles have existed in the Enchanted Vale, it is because she willed it so.
But I’m not my mother. I haven’t lived five hundred years. When I saved the people of Hadria, it was because we had a plan, time to work things out—
I don’t know how to save the world.
I don’t belong here.
Why do I have a right to the title of princess?
I can hear my sister’s voice in my head, cruel, resentful.
You do not deserve it. Look at you. Soft.
Weak. How can someone like you ever think themselves capable of saving anyone?
Maybe she was right all this time. She’s grown up in the Vale at least. Maybe Wrenley would know how to protect her people.
Wrenley.
Wren.
My mother’s favorite bird.
The bird I turned my friends into when they needed to escape Spring.
I look down at my hands. Feel the magic surging within me.
I thought I could beat Sira at her own game. Be ruthless like her. Endanger my people for a chance at victory.
But this isn’t the kind of ruler I want to be. And now that I see what destruction this brings, I don’t want it.
My love wasn’t enough to save Wrenley, but it did save Farron and Dayton. And I can’t give up on the hope that it will be enough to save Ez, Kel, and Caspian.
My strength doesn’t allow me to swing a broadsword or change the tides of battle, but that doesn’t mean I’m weak.
My strength lies in my heart, and that’s something I won’t let Sira ever take away.
Without giving myself another moment to consider the possibility that I can’t, I sprint toward the stairs of the bridge house.
I take the steps two at a time, running to the very top.
Then, with the most ungraceful leap imaginable, I grab hold of the awning and pull myself up onto the wooden roof.
I guess I should thank Dayton instead of cursing him for all those vigorous gladiator workouts in the arena.
The roof is slanted, but I’m able to make my way up and balance on the middle support beam. From up here, I have a more horrifying vision. The bridge looks like the spine of a carcass, swarming with flies. If flies had horns.
An arrow whizzes past my ear. I look down to see several underfae archers nocking their bows. I won’t let fear stop me.
Golden briars break through the roof, forming shields around me. I close my eyes, hearing the thunk of arrows hitting my briars. They won’t hold long.
I take a deep breath. Wielding the magic of change is like making my body beat with the pulse of the universe. Raising my hands, I imagine my consciousness flowing out across the bridge on both sides. The Deep Guard and Tundrafolk… I can feel their heat, their hearts.
A gasp of pain shoots through me. The underfae and their mole steeds…they’re different. They are there but ice cold—numb and distant. There’s nothing to grab on to.
Opposite to that, the souls of my princes burn like flames, too hot, too heavy for me to grab. What power did my mother possess to have changed such spirits?
I concentrate on the hearts of the Deep Guard and Tundrafolk. I spread my consciousness as if it were a pair of wings, imagining the unfurling of great white feathers, spreading the tendrils of my mind like talons.
Magic surges up through my body, filling my veins and skittering along my bones. It’s delighted to be free, to rush out into the world. It’s as if I’m aglow with the heart of the Vale.
Something bursts into the air. A snowy owl, wings spread. Then another owl soars skyward. Then another.
One by one, our soldiers take flight.
The edges of my vision darken, and my briars shake. With every ounce of magic I pour into the Deep Guard, I lose my protection. But there’s still so many of them down there, fighting in the tunnels, fighting for Winter and me.
I won’t give up on them.
I scream. My briar shields fall, withering to the rooftop like dried leaves. It doesn’t matter. My power must go to our people. Must change them into something that can survive.
Survive to live for themselves, their loved ones. Survive to fight for the Vale once more.
Sweat drips down my brow, and my legs shake, but through my blurred vision, another ribbon of white owls soars into the air. Hundreds of owls cloud the sky now, each flap of their wings like a beacon of hope.
My heart beats wildly, the tendrils of my magic searching, but I don’t feel anyone else. I’ve saved those I can.
Someone on the airship blows a horn that can only mean retreat. The snowy owls react, flying to the airship for safety.
I let out a lungful of air. I did it. Our soldiers… They have a chance to escape. They won’t die here because of me and my command.
And I used every last drop of magic within me to save them.
Collapsing to my knees, I waver as a sickening rush of nausea sweeps over me. Black speckles cloud my vision. The world tilts, and before I can stop it, gravity pulls me down the slanted roof. I shoot out a useless hand, but there’s no grip left in my fingers.
Momentum wins. Tumbling off the rooftop, I plunge through the air. A railing slams into me—then another—before the stone of the bridge rises up to meet me with a horrible thud.
My body aches, but distantly, I know I have to stand. Stand because my life depends on it.
I blink, trying to clear my blurry vision. Where is Kel? There are shapes wavering.
Horned shapes. Underfae, swords drawn, stalking toward me.
I must stand—
The shapes stop, then drift to the side. Someone is walking through the parted crowd.
I blink again. A set of massive antlers and a huge, black sword come into view.
Faustrius.