34. Kyros #2
“I have his back. Don't worry about us. Go.” He says, urging the plan to keep going. We have the upper-hand as long as we stick to what we planned. If this is going to work, we have to rush down there while they are distracted. Cut them off before there is even a chance for a fight and cause minimal unrest for the still-wrecked city. I jerk my head at Ruaan and nudge Rowan with my arm before we all set out on our tasks. Every second counts. Viltarin can’t hold his magick for a long period of time.
Even though it doesn't take us long to reach the bottom of the hill, we don't make it before my blood runs still.
Everything happens so fast. We are halfway there, blades raised when I hear the clash of two swords come from behind me.
Every emotion filters through my mind as I skid to a halt and turn back the way we had just come from. They had another man. Shit.
“Fuck!” I grunt. My anger is beginning to get the best of me. My head whips back and forth as I try to decide what direction is the most important. “Stick with the plan!” I call out urging Rowan and Ruaan to run as I point in the direction we were meant to go.
“What are you going to do?” Ruaan barks back.
“I’m not leaving my little brother and best friend up there to fight alone.
” I growl and do all I can to refocus. Fuck it.
I rip, open a portal, and step through. I didn't want to use any magick.
We were going to try and preserve as much of it as we could…
. I try not to consider what we may have to face once we get back to Diemos.
I should know this by now— things change. They always do.
I land running and snap the portal shut behind me, sword raised, just as Beckett takes a hit to the leg.
He screams in pain as he falls to the ground.
Viltarin blinks out of the magick that held him, meaning those who he held in its clutches have also been released.
His eyes transition to their usual color, but as he comes out of it, I can see the confusion that clouds his mind.
Before Beckett can stand, I slide between him and the soldier. I push him back down.
“Stay down! Keep Viltarin protected until he's back with us!” I yell just before the other man's weapon meets my blade with an echoing clatter. I grunt as I push my sword forward and toward the man with as much physical strength as I can, yet I’m unable to make him budge.
The ruthless attacker stares into my eyes, and he fucking smiles.
He then pushes back toward me with an impossible level of force, continuing to smile all while shoving me around effortlessly.
A realization quickly dawns on me. He must have magick; his strength is simply not possible.
Just like many of the men in Phaedra's close group of mercenaries, this man must have a magickal strength on his side. I’ve learned enough dealing with them through my time working with Phaedra; strength or not, they always have a weakness.
Usually, it's something as easy as stupidity.
I was right to come back to them. They would both be dead if I hadn't changed plans.
There's no way I can even take on this sort of strength without using my own magick. He pushes forward, and I let his blade glide against my own in a menacing hiss. I duck and roll immediately and feel him stumble forward, off balance. His own strength and lack of discipline taking him down. Just because you’re strong doesn't make you a good fighter.
Dick. Hopping back to my feet, I round my blade, slicing through the air in a wide arch.
He parries my attack, but I anticipate it.
Pulling the knife from my waistband, I step in close.
“You may be strong,” I growl, leaning in a fraction closer.
“But I’m smarter.” The words hit his ear at the same moment I plunge the blade between his ribs.
I pull it free and then bury it again and again.
I can't see through the red of my rage at the threat to my brother.
Madness fills my mind with the images of the possibility of losing him alongside the clear reality of what I am about to face with going after Mavros.
My vision blurs around the edges before his body slumps toward me as he falls to his death.
Relief hits me for only a moment; it's so brief I almost don’t feel it at all.
My face falls as I turn to see a blaze of fire rushing right toward us.
I summon my shadows quickly to my fist before slamming it to the ground and letting the glittering black onyx spray out around us like a comet hitting the earth.
Day turns to night in a split second, doing what I needed it to.
It throws up a wall of shadow between the fire of Rowan's magick and the two vulnerable men who I need to protect.
As the heat recedes, I let the wall of my magick fall away like sand.
“Kyros!” Rowan bellows as he bursts through the fading magick.
“I had no choice. They started running when they fell out of Tarin's magick.” He slides to his knees at Beckett's side with a curse.
My brother lies unconscious on the ground, and each one of my breaths cleaves through me.
This cannot be happening. I look down and see a pool of blood gathering that I didn't notice at my boots.
My brows flatten as my eyes jump from the crimson stain reaching for me and my unconscious brother.
My knees slam to the ground at his feet.
“Beckett.” My voice is far away, and it almost sounds like it is someone else speaking entirely.
Shock grips me with cold fingers. This is not happening.
My lips part as I watch Rowan hook his arms through Beckett’s and pull him up his body, propping him up against his chest. He slaps Beckett's pale face and is yelling something, but I can't hear anything beyond my own failure. I failed yet another person I love.
“Go, Kyros! Get your brother and take the passages out of the kingdom. Your time will come, son. This isn’t—” My father’s voice echoes through the recesses of my mind, and my vision swims. My knees dig into the hard stone floor of the throne room, and I pull his body up, his back to my chest as I prop him up.
He coughs, choking, and I know it's the same blood that seeps into the fabric of my clothes. Warm and final. “—your fight.”
“I can’t. Where are we supposed to go? Eathian is my kingdom.
What about you? What about—” My questions are cut off as mage lights flare above us.
I pull my father into the darkness of the staff passages within the walls.
“Mother,” I choke out, no longer needing to finish the question.
Our eyes lock in the light of the glowing orb.
The bright blue that matches Mavros, her dark hair that is a mirror of mine.
Her face contorts in pain as a blade pierces through her chest. She's silent in the moments before her death.
No cry of anguish. No words. Her eyes say everything.
A tear tracks down her shocked face. She blinks once before falling, right after the proof of her pain.
“Go, Kyros! MOVE!” My father screams, his voice cracking as he pushes forward toward her. He breaches the darkness that clouds us, wrenching my mother into his arms. There is a single moment of calm that washes over his face before his mouth moves again. A silent word moving his lips. MOVE.
“MOVE!” A voice screams, and I hit the ground hard.
Warm soil hits me in the face hard as I go down.
Reality fragmenting back into focus and knocking me from the memory.
I blink rapidly, and despite blurred vision, I can see that it was Ruaan who pushed me out of the way.
He removes his belt in one fluid motion before quickly securing it around the top of Beckett’s leg.
“He's in shock. We need to get him out of here.” I hear him call out over the ringing in my ears. Is he talking about me?
“Kyros! Fucking focus and listen to me!” I blink repeatedly at my name as the ringing in my ears begins to subside.
Viltarin is swaying on his feet. “We need to get Beckett out of here. Come on!” He urges me to my feet.
I blink again and again. Everything rushes back in like a tidal wave, and I shake my head before silently pushing to my feet and helping the others carry Beckett back to the cottage where the others will be waiting.
There were no survivors after Rowan released his fire.
Which is good for us in the short term, but no survivors means no one to report back to Phaedra, and when she gets no report, that will only confirm our location. We both know that no one else would be willing… or able to take out her men. She will know it was me.