Chapter 41
—Connak—
Connak wrenched his bowstring back, muscles tight, and released.
His last arrow soared through the air and straight into the face of a Vorthakai.
He’d have to scavenge more on his way. He dropped his bow and unsheathed the sword at his side.
He twisted furiously, slicing an Umbrin from behind.
Connak screamed to the heavens as the beasts fell in front of him.
His chest rose with fury. Damn, he was tired.
He wanted a break, and Kienna wouldn’t quit checking on him.
He couldn’t allow the distraction. The city was flooded.
Bodies burned all around them, and the stench of scorched flesh singed the air.
The streets were pure chaos. Rain lashed the rooftops as the wind howled alongside screams of the dying.
Thunder cracked above. Each flash of lightning revealed the insanity below.
Elvish soldiers clashed with feral River Storm men, shrieking Vorthakai, and the shadow-slicked Umbrin slicing through the fog.
Danek was in the fray, ahead of Connak, pressing his palms to the chest of a wounded soldier and muttering as he healed, even as blood soaked through his own sleeves.
Cuts framed his face, his eyes weary. He barely had time to finish healing before leaping back and slinging a shield of light around another warrior.
Connak fought from the narrow eastern alleys, where the city thinned toward the hills and the homes pressed close.
The sound of clashing steel funneled toward him like a threatening chokehold.
He turned on instinct, spinning low as a River Storm soldier lunged toward him.
His blade met resistance, then blood. A blast of magic burst to his left with raw force, light erupting from an Elvish mage.
The entire army was overwhelmed and desperate.
Keeping up with the dead rising limited their spirits.
Connak was sure he saw Baila on the streets raising more before they could be burned by the Emberreign.
Tislin moved like a shadow incarnate, his daggers an extension of the darkness. He slipped behind a Vorthakai, severing its spine in a silent motion, then vanished into the shadows again, only to reappear behind a River Storm brute and bury a blade into the base of his skull.
“We could do without the extra flair,” Connak gritted through his teeth, though he couldn’t help but smirk. He slid his sword through the gut of an Umbrin.
Tislin didn’t answer, but his smug grin said it all. He, too, was in his element of fighting.
A rumbling growl reverberated in the shadows behind them. Through the smoke and rain, a sleek form bounded across the cobbled road. Ruva, with her fur slick with water and blood. She barreled through a Vorthakai, sinking her teeth into its side before disappearing into the alleys.
The rain continued to pour, slowing the burning of bodies.
The Elvish worked hard to keep the flames going, but it wouldn’t be fast enough.
Connak leapt to the roofs with Tislin, taking a moment to rest. An earlier cut to the side gnawed at him.
He strung bits of his magic into the wound, piecing it together as best he could.
With the lack of energy in his soul, he knew what little reserves he had left would be better spent trying to end this battle.
“Think we’ll make it out of this one?” Connak asked Tislin.
Tislin stared off into the horizon. “That doesn’t look too promising.” He pointed over the Goldmere as the wind shifted.
Above the waters, shadows twisted around each other like smoke from a wildfire. Connak’s blood froze. “We should have expected it after Alverton,” he said, gripping the hilt of his sword.
A figure glided forward from the edge of the storm.
A Shade.
The tall, humanoid shape cloaked in thick, blurring shadows moved like night itself.
The remnants of whom it had once been flickered beneath its surface.
A flash of bone, mouth curled in preservation of a scream.
Eyes sunken beneath a charcoal mask. Its cloak, or perhaps its body, trailed behind it like black mist, bleeding darkness into the earth.
Its arrival chilled the air. Whispers slithered through the alleys, voices that didn’t belong to anyone crawling behind their ears.
It tore across the Goldmere, cleared the farmlands, and dropped into the city’s eastern edge.
It landed near the rooftops, absorbing the darkness pooled between the narrow homes and drinking the shadows.
The storm swallowed the moon whole, casting enough cover for the thing to feast. Its dead stare tilted upward, locking onto Tislin.
“No fucking way,” Connak said, stepping in front of his friend.
Tislin placed his hand on Connak’s shoulder. “You cannot kill a Shade.”
Connak pushed Tislin back. “You will not fight that thing. You need to leave.”
“Gentlemen,” the Shade hissed, its voice soft as snow, cold as the void.
Lunging, Connak sliced through the air. His blade passed harmlessly through the creature’s misted body, but shadows screamed in protest around it, resisting his touch. To fight a Shade was to fight night itself. The moon’s absence turned the world into the Shade’s domain.
A pulse rang through Connak’s head. A painful scream that ripped his skin apart and then stitched together.
He covered his ears, tensing to keep straight so the Shade couldn’t touch him.
Sharp fear overtook him. Not his fear. Connak was rarely afraid anymore.
It radiated from the center of his mind.
“Get out of here,” he said to Tislin, pulling him down the roof and into the streets.
He ran west, Tislin in tow, threading between the beasts as they pushed toward the heart of the city.
They needed natural light, the only defense against the King of Shadows.
Somewhere the moon would touch, even in the darkness.
He’d take Tislin all the way to Trinity if he had to.
Then he stopped, eyes landing on the Great Hall.
The tension in his arms rose to his chest. The doors were breached, completely overtaken by Umbrin and Vorthakai spilling inward like a black tide.
All the defenders around the building were slain.
“Kienna,” he gasped.
“Go,” Tislin snapped, slicing another soldier and stepping toward the Shade. He conjured daggers from the shadows.
Connak hesitated.
Tislin stepped forward again, eyes flickering.
The shadows bent near him, clinging to him deeper than before.
A chill passed between them as the whispering from the Shade grew louder.
Tislin’s stance shifted. His daggers didn’t rise right away.
His face twitched, tempted by the sweet incantations of the Shadow King.
“Go,” he said to Connak again.
“I’ll be quick,” Connak said. “You fight until I’m back, do you understand?”
“Of course, Commander.”
He’d be okay. Connak had to tell himself so. Tislin was a master of shadows. He was the master of shadows. He could handle a Shade.
Connak bolted toward the Hall. Tristian gutted a Vorthakai in an alley, sending the corpse crashing into another wave. Ryven, the Emberreign commander, lit it up in flames.
“High Commander!” Connak called to Tristian. “The barricades are under attack!”
—Tristian—
“Do you have a read on Baila?” Tristian asked Danek as he ran through the streets.
Danek shifted, looking around the alleys until his attention fixed on the Great Hall overrun with monsters. “Oh, shit.” He pulled away from Tristian’s grasp and ran toward the Hall.
They should have put Kienna back in Trinity.
They had enough time to hide her away, but then they would have to tell her everything, and Connak didn’t want her to know until she was ready to bear the weight of what it all meant.
Tristian stepped out into the square, a hint of shadows catching his eye.
Tislin.
And another.
Who did Tristian trust most at this moment?
Would Connak and Danek be able to get through the Dead Army’s swarm to reach the barricades?
There were quite a lot, and both of them thrived in the air.
Not in small quarters. Tislin… Tristian didn’t understand his brother, though he understood Shades enough.
Tislin would fight all night without avail.
Yet he trusted Tislin. Tislin survived even to this day in the darkness.
Turning to the Great Hall, Tristian ripped through soldiers standing in his way. Ryven continued to burn every body that fell. The heat warred with the wetness of the air, nearly suffocating him. Still, Tristian persisted forward.
Connak and Danek played with the wind but struggled without the open breeze. Scaring the dead creatures with images didn’t work like they did for the River Storm men. These creatures had no fear. They only had intent.
Intent to kill.
Tristian pulsed every bit of his strength into his sword and gutted the beasts around him. His speed could not be matched, not even by the Umbrin. Creatures fell around them until the only ones left were down the stairs. Connak bled into his boot.
“Danek.” Tristian nodded, and Danek shot his magic out.
Connak winced, then straightened. “Spare your energy. We’ll need it down there.”
Tristian snatched Connak’s arm before he could disappear. “Tislin. Go.”
“No way,” Connak scoffed. “There are at least thirty beasts on the stairs alone. We can’t take the risks—”
“It’s a command, Connak. I have Danek. Now go.” Tristian couldn’t wait to see if Connak would listen. He needed to trust that he cared enough for his brother to do it. He pulled Danek down the stairs.