60. Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Archer
Isoria had left me to try to fend off Vithenna, and I, trapped on the ground, couldn’t join her. Terror and rage filled me at the sight of the goddess of life crumbling Rainsong’s buildings, shattering its streets, and sending lightning after my people. After Isoria.
When I tried to charge the goddess herself, she sent the earth shattering again, splitting ruptures through the street and sending cobblestones flying.
My boots skidded on the rain-slick cobblestones, but I was too late.
Vithenna had split the earth so wide, I couldn’t leap across the distance to reach her.
Isoria circled her in her phoenix form, magnificent and powerful, but even a phoenix was no match for a goddess.
My stomach lurched into my throat. Each time I reached for the magic I’d accessed earlier, splitting the earth and commanding the roots growing underground, I found nothing but emptiness.
I was too weak, too exhausted. After nearly bleeding out and the energy my body had used to recover with the help of Isoria’s magic, it could take hours before I would be able to wield that power again.
And my mind magic was just as depleted—not that I expected it would work on a deity.
Nearby, Princess pawed at the earth, growling and antsy. She eyed Vithenna with murderous intent, but a jaguar couldn’t defeat the goddess either.
Swallowing back my desperation, my awful sense of helplessness, I turned away. If I couldn’t protect Isoria, I’d do the next best thing and try to help my people to safety.
Turning, I ran, Princess at my side. Leaping the cracks in the street along with the gruesome revenant corpses and dodging crumbling buildings, I sought out my citizens as they charged screaming through the streets. “Get to the castle!” I shouted. “Follow me! Take cover in the tunnels!”
As I ran, watching males, females, and children fall in line behind me, I scanned for a familiar fae.
If I could find Cliff, Grey, or any other guard I knew, I could order them to lead my people to the tunnels.
That would allow me to come back and gather more, to search for anyone trapped in buildings, to rally every last available healer we had.
Then I could return to Isoria.
What if my connection to Mortius would let me call on him? Could he defy the goddess of life?
And so I ran while holding hope in my heart that I could return to the one I longed to go back to. Every step away from her was agony.
Meanwhile, Rainsong was in ruins. Lightning flashed in the sky so bright and powerful it was nearly blinding each time it struck.
More often than not, it forked in vicious, lashing tongues through the air and struck the ground, a building, or unfortunate citizens.
Despite the pelting rain, pouring down so heavily the streets were flooding and steaming and my skin burned with every drop, the fierceness and heat of the flames the electricity had started were too strong to put them all out.
The world was aflame, the night painted in stark shades of red and gold and blazing white.
Smoke and burning flesh mingled with the stench of rot from the revenants, making my stomach heave in protest.
At last, my eyes landed on Grey. I made a detour, carving through the ruined street and grasping his shoulder. “Lead them to the tunnels.”
Understanding shone in his dark eyes, and he didn’t question me, didn’t ask why I was already turning and running back.
“Follow me! His Highness’s orders!” he shouted, even as I tore back through the shrieking, pushing crowd.
I caught the terrified gazes of some of my citizens, their confusion as I ran past them.
A few hesitated, but most were swift to follow Grey, eager to find safety.
“Listen to Grey. Follow him!” I exclaimed to anyone who paused.
The ground quaked again as I ran down the street, the buildings shuddering.
I was running near the river now, wind screaming in my ears and rain lashing against my face.
The Bluemist’s waters were rising already, threatening to flood.
Lightning reflected off its churning, tumultuous surface, along with fire crackling and raging through one of the nearby shops that had once graced the shore.
Fae continued to shout and run, passing me as I pressed back toward Vithenna, trying to find a route back to her and Isoria. I was dodging another pile of corpses in the road when I nearly collided with Cliff.
“Your Highness!” he shouted over the din of the storm, squinting against the torrent.
His sandy hair was plastered to his face, his clothes drenched.
Two of his jaguars—Gorgeous and Fluffy—flanked him.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed Clay bringing up the rear, the youth looking ruffled but unharmed.
“You need to get to the tunnels and safety,” I told them.
“I can’t leave yet!” Cliff shouted back. “Chase went into that home over there to help. And what if there are more who need us?”
I blinked through the rain at the burning building Cliff was pointing at.
Misgiving churned through me, but it was short-lived.
The next instant, Chase was charging through an open window, its glass already shattered either from the heat or from the multitude of earthquakes.
In his mouth, he carried a small child, rushing straight to a weeping female standing nearby.
“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, her voice all but lost in the storm.
“Go now,” I ordered Cliff. “Lead her to the tunnels. Gather as many as you can along the way and get them to safety.”
Cliff gave a sharp nod, silently urging his jaguars on before turning to help the female by the arm as she held the weeping child to her. I clapped Clay on the shoulder as he followed them.
I passed more fleeing citizens when my gaze snagged on Owen.
The breath left my lungs, half-relieved, half-terrified, when I saw that he was carrying a motionless Lily tucked close to his chest. Owen’s dark eyes were feverish, his face haggard and worn from the effort he was using to repel water from them, keeping Lily comfortable and dry in his arms. My stomach lurched until I noticed the fae surrounding him—both the male healer I’d asked to go to them and Scarlet, who was carrying her son in her arms, and a handful of others I didn’t recognize.
Perhaps friends of Scarlet, perhaps other citizens who were seeking refuge.
“Is she all right?” I asked Owen.
“She’s stable,” he gritted out. “But unconscious. I…I don’t know what will happen. I have to get her out of here. I’m sorry, Archer. I—”
“Go,” I urged. “All of you. Lead them to the underground tunnels, Owen. Get them to safety.”
He didn’t hesitate, just nodded and raced through the rain-soaked street, cradling Lily to him.
Sanvo, heal her, I prayed, and I started running again.
When I reached the end of the street, I turned down an alley, finding a route to Isoria and Vithenna, who were still locked in battle. My eyes drank in the sight of Isoria in her phoenix form, her feathers the same magnificent shades of her hair, her flames bright and wild and powerful.
Once again, I reached for my magic, for the land, but there was nothing but emptiness.
Panic and grief rocked me to the core, a sharp reminder that Mortius’ curse was ever-present, whether my power was or not.
“Mortius!” I shouted into the storm. Surely there was enough suffering to garner his attention, even if he was busy with his responsibility of helping souls into the afterlife.
“Help us! Vithenna would love to continue to defy death, to defy the rest of the gods with her atrocities against Emberglade and all you’ve created. Help us stop her.”
Shadows coiled around me in response, but it was already too late.
A blinding flash tore across the sky, a greedy tongue of lightning bursting from the seething clouds and slamming into Isoria. And then she was back in fae form, tumbling rapidly toward the earth, consumed in a cloud of smoke.