Chapter 36
—Kienna—
“Ash, I need you to take the forged weapons in the cart down to the beach,” Kienna said. “Captain General Vellorin is stationing equipment there for soldiers, and he needs them quickly. We only have a day or two before River Storm closes in.”
They stood in front of the forgery. Smoke and sweat choked the air in the smithy.
Years of coal fire had blackened the timber beams. Sparks burst like fireflies as the blacksmith’s hammer struck red-hot iron on the anvil, and the clang rolled down the narrow street.
Beside the hearth, leather bellows wheezed, feeding its orange heart while a haze of soot swam in the shaft of light.
The old man grumbled. “I’m too old for this.”
“Which is why,” Kienna said, meeting Ash’s eyeline, “you’ll go to the barracks, right?” Kienna didn’t think Ash was going to attempt the battle, but his hesitancy to retreat concerned her.
His face fell, his lips frowning as he appeared to be lost in a memory. “Last time I went underground, my children died. I’ll go when you do.”
“I’m not dying, Ash.”
“We’ll see about that.” His brows were furrowed, but fear swirled like smoke in his eyes.
She held his attention for a moment longer before handing him the wagon’s handle. “Please.”
Ash took it begrudgingly and started toward the beach.
Kienna would put him into the very ship he built and sail him out to sea if she could.
Most of the merchants and seamen had already left in their own ships.
War didn’t fare well for their trade. Many would much rather take their chances near the Elvish mountains.
Kienna didn’t even know there were mountains, let alone anything else beyond.
She’d find a map eventually, but her only concern now lay in Dove Port and with the soldiers marching from the north.
Petyr commanded his soldiers to scour the outskirts of the city, pulling people from their homes and moving them into the center.
Most civilians and businesses were gracious to hold the displaced while the barracks were prepared.
Folks spent days carrying stocks of food, blankets and pillows, and barrels of water below to keep everyone at bay while the war took place.
They all held wide-eyed, blank stares as they moved, but they pushed through.
“Kienna, dear,” Elowen’s voice rang out in a melody.
Kienna turned as Elowen and Moira approached.
Moira wore a tighter dress than usual, showcasing her baby bump for the first time.
“We have herbs for the barracks in case anyone requires a tincture. Also,” Elowen paused to take in an airy breath with a warm smile, “your Elvish army has arrived.”
“From Trinity?” Kienna asked.
“Them, too.”
Kienna waved the news away. She didn’t have time to worry about Elowen alluding to Connak and Danek’s return from the desert.
Moira was more interested, asking if maybe Tislin returned as well.
They hadn’t spoken since Moira confided in Kienna about their kiss.
He stopped coming by the apartment altogether.
Kienna placed her hand on Moira’s arm. “Go with me below? We can steal some silence before the madness starts and drop off the medicine while we’re at it.”
Moira nodded. Elowen gave them both a squeeze on the arm, handed them a few bags of concoctions, and retreated as she yanked at her pouch of seeds.
Kienna led Moira to the Great Hall, tinctures and herbs in tow, as the quiet settled between them.
Dove Port had enough tinkering and scattered yelling.
They didn’t need to add to the commotion.
They took the stairs at the back of the building and wound down.
The sound of dripping water made Kienna pause.
She hesitated, glancing around in the shadows growing longer by the flickering flame.
Moira turned to her. “I don’t like it down here either.”
“Do you remember ever going to King Vaerin’s dungeons?” Kienna asked.
She shook her head. “I have feelings about things now and then, but I can’t remember a lot of what King Vaerin did to us up until the last days.”
They continued down the stairs, Moira wrapping her arms around Kienna’s. Heat rose in Kienna’s heart. “Danek has his memory back. We could try to get yours, too.”
Moira sighed. “I know what I need to know. I think the memories will haunt me, and I’ve been fortunate…” She paused, as if saying it out loud would create a rift between them.
Kienna only smiled and set the bag Elowen gave them onto the ground. She took Moira’s hand. “I think that makes us all fortunate. You’ve been a light that we all need.”
Moira hugged Kienna. She embraced Moira back, the sweetness of vanilla flooding Kienna’s senses.
Moira loved her scented oils and smelled like something new every day.
As Kienna went to pull away, a surprising jolt kicked from Moira’s stomach.
Her vision blurred, pulling her inward until darkness enveloped her.
She gasped.
A small flame flickered around her until she could see she was standing in the city square. The entire town remained empty—except for a child. A little girl with the deepest brown eyes and soft, golden earth-toned skin stood in front of Kienna. She ran through the streets, glancing back at her.
“Follow me,” she whispered.
Kienna’s feet moved before her mind comprehended what was going on.
They weaved through the square and into the alleyways.
The little girl ran around and around. Her giggles rang out like a melody haunted by an impending war.
Kienna shivered. When the girl stopped, they were in front of the bridge, staring at Baila.
The redheaded bitch from River Storm held a blade so black, it ate the shadows.
The child held Moira’s hand and—what was Moira doing here? Before Kienna could react, Baila was upon her. “The king demands retribution, and your life is the payment.”
Baila slashed the sword against Kienna’s neck. Kienna gasped as if the air had been taken from her. She clawed against the wound that she knew wasn’t there, but it didn’t absolve the fear. Finally, her mind thrust itself away from the vision.
Her eyes adjusted back to the dark tunnels underneath the city.
Moira backed away, panting for air.
“You okay?” Kienna asked, fighting collapse. She wanted to reach for her neck to ensure her skin remained intact but withheld, sensing Moira’s fear.
“Absolutely.” Moira swallowed hard. “It’s…a little claustrophobic down here.”
Kienna searched her face. Had Moira been in the vision? She couldn’t tell. That smile was too tight to trust. Kienna worried that asking her would only spark concern, and she didn’t want to hash it out. She wanted to fight, and if her vision indicated Baila was coming, she would take her head on.
They cleared the tunnels and stepped into the open, where the cold air smelled of salt.
The beach stretched in a sweep of jagged stone and weatherworn pebbles, waves gnawing at the shore in frothing bursts.
Rust-red rock jutted like broken teeth along the waterline, and the forest crouched beyond.
Pines loomed dark and sharp against a leaden sky.
The Captain General gestured wide, his gauntlet catching the gray light, motioning to the hollow they crawled from, barely visible beneath a tangle of brush clinging to the cliff’s base.
Petyr stood with an easy, controlled stance.
Quite the opposite of anything Tristian displayed.
The Captain General wore a deep maroon tunic, long and split at the back for movement.
His brown trousers were tucked neatly into knee-high leather boots.
His black hair and trimmed beard indicated a man well in control.
Soldiers marched along the beach collecting armor and weapons near Connak. Most were Dove Port men with wild fear in their eyes. Some of them had never seen battle, too young to have lived through the Great War that started everything.
“Where is your army?” Kienna asked Tristian.
“They’ll be here tonight,” Tristian responded.
“Don’t they need to prepare?”
Tristian squinted but smiled, nonetheless. “Trust me. My army is well prepared.”
Kienna tried not to scoff. Her nerves bounced around inside her. She almost wished the battle would start already, just to get it over with. She wanted Baila. She’d march into the desert herself to get her. Ruva appeared through the pines and into the rocky bay. Kienna calmed at the sight of her.
I hate hunting, she growled.
Kienna smiled and approached her giant wolf. You love it. You’ve simply grown lazy.
Ruva huffed and licked Kienna’s hand. They look scared.
They’re fighting because of me. I’m sure they feel it’s not fair.
Kienna lay her head against Ruva’s and stared out into the sea.
Asking these men and women to go to war for her mistake was selfish.
How could she dare to ask? Not a single soul had magic like the Elvish, and Kienna was grateful for Tristian’s alliance.
She was sure Petyr felt the same. The magic would keep them alive a lot longer.
Kienna sighed. I…shouldn’t ask them to do it.
We risk our lives either way. Ruva panted and whined. Maybe give them a choice.
Kienna closed her eyes. Petyr and Tristian were conversing over a map.
The wind ruffled Tristian’s usually neat, side-swept hair into loose, unruly strands.
He looked unnerved. He would lose soldiers, too.
Any one of them could die. She cleared her throat and settled into Elvish formation.
Her eyes sank as deep as her heart as she asked, “Do you mind if I say something?”