Chapter 42
—Kienna—
Kienna pushed with all her strength as lightning pulsed from her veins.
The barrier, illuminated with strobes of yellow and white, lay perfectly in front of her.
A storm the Umbrin didn’t dare cross, but the Vorthakai didn’t care.
The ghastly beasts slammed their gray, voided bodies into Kienna’s magic, screeching as the barrier pulsed with a violet, shimmering light.
They only rose and slammed again. The tension of the magic fought her, pulling against her skin.
It began as a papercut, subtle tears that were more a nuisance than pain at first.
The barrier flickered.
Kienna gasped, the power flipping. Panic pulsed at the edge of her focus. What if it broke? What if she let everyone down? Killed everyone? The silence was spinning in her mind, and it grinned with sharpened teeth. Round and round the silence spins—Fuck that song! Where was Connak?
The tiny nicks against her flesh ate at her focus.
The pressure in her chest coiled, engulfing her shoulders and her neck.
Her mind trembled. She forced her thoughts away from the awful dungeon song.
She didn’t want that song to define her in her last moments.
She wanted to be defined as the girl who gave everything she had for those she allowed herself to love.
Her mind flashed to Moira, the brave woman who cared for her in times of need.
Moira, who led the people of Dove Port through the tunnels to get them to a safer place.
More Vorthakai slammed into the barrier again. Kienna’s skin ripped like tiny blades slashing, a resistance pushing back hard as she pushed forward. She screamed out, sweat trickling in heavy streams down her forehead. It crawled into her wounds like liquid fire, eating at the torn skin.
Kienna fought it. She pushed her mind back to the men at the shipyard who encouraged her and joked with her as if she were part of their crew.
She recalled the grumbling pride Ash tried to hide when she carved, or when he would appreciate her silence before finding himself in a long ramble about the way things used to be.
Skin across her body split apart. Blood swam with sweat, and the pain grew unbearable.
But Kienna refused to give up. She’d die here, and it’d be worth it.
She’d sacrifice so the people she loved could live.
That truth alone helped her see through all the turmoil.
She steadied herself on the memories of Dove Port, on the people she grew accustomed to in her time here.
The stories of her mother. Of the purpose.
She saw Elowen bringing them a basket of apples, a peculiar rodent on her shoulder. Children running through the street, giggling and hiding around corners. The Elarent House. The City Square. Her apartment. Tislin. Connak. Danek. Tristian.
All people worth fighting for and fighting with.
“Kienna!” Tristian yelled, his voice sharp with anger and disbelief.
She glanced through dripping blood. She had little energy left.
Tristian charged across the chamber toward her, weapon slicing through two Umbrin in brutal, unsparing strokes as he cut a path through the swarm.
The pressure in Kienna’s chest deepened when Danek burst through the barricade doors at the far end behind the High Commander.
His magic lit faintly on his fingertips as he sprinted toward her, only to falter when he saw the barrier blazing between them.
Danek slammed his blade into the back of a Vorthakai and yanked up, the weapon ripping through the creature’s skin. “How you doing, Kienna?”
A tear rolled down her cheek. She needed to hear someone’s voice before she died. She was glad it was his.
Tristian sliced another Vorthakai, but more were pooling into the room.
A fresh wave of magic crashed against her, Vaerin’s cursed power worming through the cracks of the barrier. Kienna gritted her teeth, the pressure searing her spine. Her body screamed in warning. The magic was unraveling from within.
“I can’t hold it,” she cried. “He’s ripping me apart.”
Tristian met her eyes, and Kienna thought she saw a reluctant awe hit him. She pleaded with him not to stop her. Not to argue. To trust her for once, as she fought against the one thing he couldn’t trust her for. He nodded and barreled toward the door.
“Move,” he barked, holding Danek with a fierce grip.
As soon as she knew he was clear, Kienna let go. She pushed the flood out of her body and let it slam outward.
The barrier cracked.
Then erupted.
A brilliant white light tinged with violet exploded through her body in a shockwave.
The room imploded in a thunderous roar, magic pulsing from her like a tidal wave.
Stone and wood shattered, walls collapsing in a storm of debris.
The Umbrin and Vorthakai were flung like dolls, their bodies swallowed in the ruin.
—Tristian—
Connak was going to kill him. Tristian and Danek barely made it out of the Great Hall before the building began to collapse, the rubble spilling out in the streets. Tristian couldn’t see Connak anywhere. Hopefully, he was far away, helping Tislin.
“We need to go back,” Danek yelled frantically.
Tristian held him steadily to stop him from running into the frail structure.
Only a small pathway led to the barricades now.
The stairs were surely demolished with no safe path forward.
He bit his lip hard. They needed to find Kienna immediately.
To do that, he either had to get Connak or finally open himself to her.
Weighing his options, Tristian realized that Connak would never be able to find her down there.
Amongst the rubble, it wasn’t her mind holding on anymore.
Everything she went through, the strife and the suffering, she would be in a mindless, numbing pain. She was down there, though.
Her heart guided the path. It was the only thing left she was holding onto.
Tristian grunted. “Go around to the beach. I’ll need you there.”
“I need to get Kienna!” Danek yelled.
“No,” Tristian said firmly, pulling Danek to face him. “I will find her. Trust me. Go to the beach. Now.”
Danek hesitated before he shot through the sky. Tristian bolted into the Great Hall, the floor crumbling as he stepped. He moved quickly to avoid falling into the pits of whatever remained below.
He was right about the stairs. All that remained was a gap that yawned below, at least two stories of bitter darkness.
Dust hung in the air, shimmering in the glow of the dying torches.
Tristian rolled his shoulders and braced himself as he let go.
She was down there; he simply had to search through it all.
Anyone else would have broken their legs on impact.
Tristian trained his whole life to handle brunt force to his body.
The strain on his muscles nearly buckled his knees, but he caught himself and landed gracefully.
He scanned his surroundings. A deep, splintering groan rolled through the stone above.
He had to be quick.
The barricades were already completely crumbled, wooden planks covering the ground with pieces of the floor from above. Tristian used his strength to push concrete out of the way. A faint glow continued to guide him until he finally saw a strobing light near the tunnels.
Kienna sat, trembling on the floor, her body convulsing from the raw overload of magic she unleashed. One hand spasmed like a claw holding the fragile barrier upright around herself. Rubble pressed on her like a burial shroud. The magic flickered violently, the last of her energy wavering.
Tristian pulled at the rubble, his chest heaving with desperation. It was rare for him to feel this level of purpose pulling on him outside of his duties as High Commander.
He’d get her. He promised he would.
—Kienna—
Dust sat thick in her throat. Kienna’s breath came in gasps, shallow and frantic, as though each inhale might be her last. Her bloodied fingers clenched the air as if she could hold on to her own strength a moment longer.
She whimpered through the anguish. A pleading sound for the pain to end or for the magic to hold. Through the haze, a presence cut through the smoke and debris. A hand, warm and anchoring, reached into her light and pulled her from the ruin.
Tristian.
Above the rubble, the darkened barricade was only a fraction of what it had been. Tristian’s arms cradled her tightly, though gently enough to mind her wounds. His eyes dipped to the torn skin on her arms and sides, and then to the dark red soaking into her shirt.
“I’ve got you now,” he whispered, voice so soft it could have been part of the wind.
Kienna’s breath settled through the comfort it brought her to know she wouldn’t die alone in the rubble.
Because that’s what she was doing—dying—though she could feel something else holding her together internally.
Forces kept her alive that she couldn’t understand.
Tristian weaved through the tunnels, the sound of the Great Hall crumbling within itself following them.
They moved faster than Kienna had ever moved before.
Tristian swerved through the smell of damp earth until they reached the shore of the Lysiria amongst the others that were in the barricades before their attack.
The High Commander gently set her onto the rocks near the water, mindful of the gashes on her flesh. His eyes searched hers for a hint of reflection or awareness. Kienna was tired, as if she had borrowed energy that was not hers with no means of ever repaying the debt.
Ruva. She called it out into the world, heart aching.
Hold on! The bond flared to life like a thread snapped taut. Panic and anguish rushed over Kienna as the wolf sensed her pain. It was sunlight through fog. Distant, but real. Ruva was alive, and she was coming.
Kienna fell into that bond, the pulse of loyalty. She eased through the echo of a snarl not far from the city, allowing it to be her tether back to consciousness.