Chapter 20
Violette
The barn groaned like a wounded animal, beams bending and splintering under the weight of the explosion. Smoke belched into the sky in thick, black ribbons, and then, with a gut-deep shudder, the entire structure collapsed inward.
Wood snapped. Flames flickered. Dust swallowed everything in its path.
The barn was gone.
Violette didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Her crossbow remained raised, gripped in hands so tight her knuckles had gone pale. She kept her stance firm, her face unreadable, but her chest was tight, her lungs burning as if the smoke had reached her out here in the open air.
Rell.
The name sliced through her armor of control. Not him. Not now. Not like this. Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t let the fear show. She never did. Fear was leverage. It made your hands shake, made you hesitate. She had trained too long to let it surface now.
Beside her, Symond wasn’t holding together nearly as well.
“Do you think they…?” His voice was rough. Hesitant. The bitterness he usually wore like armor had fallen away, leaving something quieter. Something almost vulnerable. “Do you think they’re all dead?”
Violette didn’t answer.
He kept going. “Rell, Elora, Fane—”
A sharp crack cut him off as the rubble shifted.
Violette’s heart lurched.
Through the haze of smoke and falling ash, something massive rose from the wreckage. Slabs of broken timber and warped iron slid off thick, armored shoulders. Fane. Alive. Bloodied, dust-covered, but unmistakably still standing.
Symond stumbled back a step, his voice low with disbelief. “How the hell is he still—?”
“Aloyt steel,” Violette said. “It’s been reinforced. Alchemically, probably custom. That’s why my bolts didn’t pierce. That armor’s built to survive the impossible.”
Symond swore under his breath, reaching for another weapon, but there was doubt in his movements now. She could see it, he was scared. And if he was scared, that meant she had to be calm enough for both of them.
She reloaded her crossbow, sliding a bolt into place. Her hands trembled, just slightly, but her aim was steady when she raised the weapon again and leveled it at Fane’s head.
“He’s not invincible,” she said. “So, we keep trying.”
Fane spotted them then. His gaze locked with hers, and a slow smirk crawled across his face. He held out his arms as if daring her to fire.
Violette’s finger tensed on the trigger until the light changed.
The moon dimmed.
Not from clouds.
A massive shadow passed overhead, cutting across the field. The hairs on her arms rose, and for the first time tonight, Violette felt a flicker of awe.
Above them, silent and sudden, a creature unfurled from the night sky—sleek and dark, speckled with flecks of star-like shimmer.
Its wings stretched impossibly wide, catching the moonlight with an iridescent glow that shimmered like the aurora.
It glided in low and let out a deep, unearthly growl that rolled across the field like thunder.
“What the—” Symond started, but his voice trailed into silence as he stared.
Violette didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Words failed her in the face of what hovered above them.
The creature descended like a nightmare, its glowing yellow eyes fixed on Fane with terrifying precision. With a shriek that split the night, it dove—razor-sharp claws slicing across Fane’s face in a clean, brutal arc.
Fane staggered, hand flying to his cheek as blood streaked down his face, shock flashing briefly through his eyes.
The creature didn’t stop.
It landed in the field with a thundering impact that trembled through the soles of Violette’s boots. Its wings folded like living shadows against its sides, and it turned with menace toward Fane, glowing eyes unwavering.
Massive—easily the size of a horse—it prowled with the poise of something ancient. Smoke-black fur rippled across its body, shifting like mist. Its wings shimmered faintly in the moonlight.
Not natural. Not from this world.
Violette’s heart pounded. Her finger hovered over the trigger, but for the first time in years, she hesitated.
Symond’s whisper came beside her, ragged and shaken. “What is that?”
She didn’t answer. Because she didn’t know.
Her eyes flicked instinctively to the barn, to the spot where Rell and Elora had disappeared beneath the rubble.
Violette’s next shot was flawless and centered for Fane’s skull. But he raised a plated arm just in time. The bolt ricocheted with a sharp clang, sparks skittering from the aloyt steel. He grunted at the impact, gaze flicking between her, the monster, and the still-burning wreckage behind them.
The beast hissed again, its wings spreading wide in warning before it leaped into the air and vanished, swallowed by the night.
“What? Where did it go?” Symond asked, scanning the sky.
The creature reappeared in a blur of movement and fury, plummeting like a meteor. It struck Fane from behind with bone-shattering force, its massive claws raking across his back. The shriek of tearing metal echoed as it tore through his enchanted armor.
Fane roared, staggering under the weight, twisting as the creature’s fangs lunged for his throat.
Violette’s breath caught.
Is it helping us?
The thought was dangerous. Hope was dangerous. They couldn’t afford to gamble on loyalty.
“Symond!” she barked, snapping him out of his daze.
He jolted. “What?”
“With me—now!”
He hesitated just long enough to make her want to curse, then nodded, falling in beside her.
They sprinted across the field, not toward Fane, but toward the collapsed ruins of the barn.
Where Rell and Elora had last been seen.
Where she refused to believe they were buried.
The rubble was chaos: crushed beams, splintered boards, and choking dust thick in the air. Violette dropped to her knees, her fingers clawing through the debris. Every second scraped at her nerves.
Symond was beside her in silence, no sarcasm, no complaints. Just focus. He tore through the wreckage with the same urgency, his hands raw and shaking.
“Come on,” Violette muttered, heart pounding against her ribs. “Come on, Rell…”
A flicker of movement caught her eye, a faint shift beneath a heavy board.
“There!” she snapped, already moving.
They worked fast, clearing smaller pieces first, then bracing against the larger beam that lay across the center. It groaned under the strain as Symond pushed with everything he had, muscles straining.
It moved just enough.
Beneath it, she saw him.
Rell, crouched under the wreckage, one arm braced against the board above to keep it from crushing them. His other arm was wrapped tight around Elora, shielding her body with his own.
His face was pale but steady, a flicker of pain behind the usual sharp eyes.
“You’re alive,” Violette breathed, the knot in her chest loosening just enough to let her move again.
Rell gave a crooked half-smile. “It’d take more than a glorified bonfire to get rid of me.”
Violette reached in and pulled Elora out first, cradling her with a soldier’s steadiness as she dragged her into the open air. Elora’s body was limp but breathing, her skin smudged with ash and riddled with cuts. The girl’s eyes fluttered open—wild, disoriented—but locked on Violette.
“You’re okay,” Violette murmured, steadying her. “You’re safe.”
Symond reached down and offered Rell his arm. Rell took it, letting Symond haul him out from under the wreckage. He stumbled once, then steadied, brushing soot from his coat with a wince.
Elora trembled, clutching Violette’s arm like she might fall apart if she let go.
Rell turned toward them, expression unreadable. “Fane?”
Violette’s jaw clenched. Her gaze flicked toward the dark field, where smoke still curled into the air—and where the creature waited, unseen for the moment.