Chapter 51
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Bear.
— From Lyvia’s list.
“Lyvia!” Evony shouted as I slipped, vision tunneling as my consciousness ebbed.
Tiberius tilted, bouncing me back to the center. The dark waves of the Juniper came up on our left, and Ti banked, angling sharply toward a large ship leading the fleet.
Take us back to the city, I murmured.
Ti’s derisive snort sent my heels weakly digging into his sides as he hurtled down the center of the Hydra.
Astraeus clapped softly, his rings clinking against one another, as he swaggered to where Ti stopped, panting heavily.
“Nicely done.” He nodded toward Evony and Tiberius. His typical, insufferable swagger dimmed for the briefest moment as his eyes landed on me. He was at Tiberius’s flank in an instant as I began to slide off his back and into his arms.
“Get off,” I slurred, doing my best to shove him away. Despite the fact he’d figured out Bear’s message, I hadn’t forgotten his threat from weeks before to stay the fuck away.
His hands held my arms, steadying me as my knees buckled.
“Get off!” I snapped, giving him a weak push. I wobbled, my legs shaking before ceasing to work entirely, and he caught me around the waist.
“Raek!” he called as Marian moved to my side. Her hair was tied back, and she’d donned her own armor. She eased me to a sitting position on the deck as I rubbed the bridge of my nose, an ache pounding behind my eyes.
Gods, I’d never been this spent.
The Hydra rocked as an air cannon boomed from below deck. I glanced over the rail to see the cannonball smash into one of the gates to the city on the eastern shore, a perfect hit. My stomach twisted.
“I need to get to Mount Telum,” I said to her as she surveyed me with a look of concern, taking something from Raek without looking. I had to get back. We needed to take Saros and end the fighting as soon as possible. “This is my city.”
“The siege will take time,” she said, shoving a hot mug into my hands. “Drink.”
I scowled, taking the mug and a slow, shaky sip of bitter tea.
“Thank you. I’m good now,” I murmured as I handed back the mug and shoved shakily onto my feet.
“Lyvia,” she scolded, signing my name with a jerky snap of her wrists.
I took a step toward Ti, ignoring her as best I could. She grabbed my arm and spun me around to face her.
“They need me!” I snapped. “No one else needs to die in this fight.” My words broke in a choked rasp.
“You need to rest.”
“I’m fine,” I said, gritting my teeth as I reached Ti.
She’s right.
Shut up.
“She’s right,” Astraeus echoed, approaching me, and a wave of amusement rippled off Tiberius.
“But as you might be too stubborn to listen to the people who care about you...” Astraeus stepped to my side. “Don’t make me regret this,” he breathed, his lips brushing my ear.
Before I could stop him, the pirate lord slid my hand into his, twining our fingers. Silver stars danced at the edge of my vision, and I gasped, a blast of energy bursting into my palm.
My eyes widened as power surged through, snapping me awake, as if he’d shoved his own magic into me.
The power settled in my chest, the Obscura and Transcindiel coming fully awake and standing at attention.
I blinked as the buzzing sensation subsided, the fatigue vanishing entirely.
My eyes settled on the deep blue sky beyond the Hydra’s sails, stars peeking through the horizon, as if they’d decided to rise early today.
My gaze slid back to Astraeus, whose hand had gone slack in mine, his dark eyes widening beneath the lines of paint as his mouth fell open. He held my gaze for a moment before blinking and wiping the mask of shock from his face. He slowly backed away, barking orders to his crew.
What in Tynan’s Hell was that? Ti asked.
I don’t care, I responded. Let’s take our city back.
A choking gray smoke wafted up the streets of Aedrialis as we soared over the Ripped River and beneath the looming Arches of Cascada. Evony was still in front and picking off the sentries on the higher buildings as we raced toward Mount Telum, Saros’s castle.
The tang of blood mingled with smoke as the clang of armor and cries of battle echoed below.
Aquila let out his own shriek in the distance as he flipped, dodging a set of arrows along the white walls that he and Nerissa cleared of Sultiran soldiers.
Rising forces burst through the burning gates of the city, lit by Soleia flames.
“Ezrich!” Evony cried out, her words lost in the wind above the chaos.
Her brother wielded a lethal-looking axe in one hand and a short-blade in the other as he led a small party of soldiers up the battlements where the spiked traitors hung on display.
Blood rained down the stone line of stairs as his axe sank into the necks of the soldiers who got in his way.
The blade in his left hand moved with a practiced sort of precision as a frantic, raw kind of fury directed the axe in his right.
The whites of his eyes flashed against the blood on his dark face as we soared past.
He chased revenge.
We all did.
Ti descended until we soared over the main avenue.
A small force of Rising fighters raced through the streets, cutting through the Sultiran posts stationed near the inner city.
I caught the glimmer of Drystan’s shield against the torches lining the road as he raced ahead, sending blasts of wind through the avenue with his arms out, steering Tempest with his legs.
I let a brief moment of appreciation pass through my thoughts as Tiberius swooped down, only ten feet above them, and we surged ahead. A group of soldiers lunged from behind an alley, and Evony’s arrows ripped through the few on the left while I sent death swarming to the group on the right.
Ti plunged forward, and we banked left, scanning the blood-soaked streets below for any sign of the breaching force heading to Mount Telum.
A blast of wind buckled against the looming fortress, and my eyes snagged on the back of Carina’s long braid.
Kresida rode next to her, with the War Slayer’s arrow finding every target.
Carina threw her hands forward, releasing a blast of wind with such power, it knocked aside the wagons and carriages parked on the avenue.
Ronan’s light hair, streaked with mud and blood, bounced as his stallion galloped down the street.
Tiberius soared over them to cheers of triumph from the group.
A line of soldiers stood several feet in front of thirty priests, evenly spaced around the white fortress and bedecked in robes of gray.
They slowly raised their hands as we came into view.
“Shields!” I bellowed to the group behind, throwing up my own, as the mages lifted their hands and bits of light danced between them.
Ti staggered in the air, his wings pumping as the massive blast of wind slammed into my dark shield.
Buildings crashed to the ground with the boom of thunder as the force of the mages’ magic hit the surrounding area.
I tightened my grip around Evony as I threw a blast of shadows in their direction.
The darkness slammed into a shield, and Evony reached into her quiver as we rounded the neighboring buildings.
Evony’s second rubelline arrow blazed like a flame as it aimed straight at the mage in the center before she let it fly. I readied my powers to chase after the flying fletching as Carina’s scream ripped through the air from below.
Her agrippa bounded down the street, and she lifted her hands, massive chunks of stone from the demolished buildings rising in the air as she held them there, before thrusting her hands toward the base of Mount Telum.
Cries echoed from the soldiers and mages surrounding the fortress as massive chunks of stone hurtled toward its base. Kresida and Ronan pushed their mounts past Carina as she dropped her hands, sagging. The rest of them cut through the remaining Sultiran forces that weren’t already scattering.
I slid off Ti’s back as his hooves neared the veranda of the castle, running to keep from stumbling.
Keep her safe!
His hooves touched down momentarily as his wings beat and sent gusts of smoke and stale autumn air flying up. He soared back toward the walls with a fresh arrow already nocked in Evony’s hands.
Screams echoed through the arched halls of Mount Telum, the stench of blood, vomit and smoke heavy and oppressive. I raced through the halls, shoving past soldiers in black and various mismatched armor, keeping sight of Kresida, steps ahead of me.
Bear’s bloody, shredded body remained burned in my mind.
His agonizing cry rang in my ears like a blaring canon blast. The horror of witnessing his death, his sacrifice, hung like an ominous thunderhead.
The kind that looms in the skies, somehow making them larger.
The kind that stands as a warning of what is to come.
A warning to all who stand in its path before a violent blend of fire and ice obliterate it all in a cascade of rage.
A rage fueling my hunt.
Saros.
My powers writhed beneath my skin, screaming their own cries of war. Whatever magic Astraeus had used on his ship had done more than refill my reserves. It had connected something incomplete.
“Which way?” Kresida’s voice was clear, her breath irritatingly even as we reached the fork in the eighth set of stairs.
My lungs burned as much as my thighs as I raised an arm, pointing to the spiral staircase leading to Saros’s tower.
I’d never been to the king’s tower, but I knew it lay beneath the center and highest turret of Mount Telum.
Kresida’s head bobbed in confirmation, the whites of her eyes stark against dark irises.
We sprinted up the marble steps, the last of daylight diminishing as we ascended, and the ornate oval windows disappeared, replaced by delicate candlelit sconces adorning the stone walls.
Kresida slowed, her fist rising as her elf ears picked up noise from above I couldn’t hear.
She unfurled four fingers as the slightest clinking of armored boots descended the stairs from above.
My heart raced as I forced my breathing to slow. Kresida flipped the twin blades in her hands before crouching low, the look of a pure predator, ready to unleash itself on unsuspecting prey. The silver tip of a longsword peaked past the curve, candlelight glinting off its edge as it came into view.
The War Slayer’s blades moved faster than I could register as she disarmed the kingsguard who had led the descent before slicing through his exposed neck.
Black armor crashed to the steps, and I leaped to the side as his body fell.
Three more followed in a matter of seconds.
I kept my eyes forward as the soldiers gasped for air, blood choking their cries.
A calm, unfeeling wave swept over me as I stepped over their dying bodies and into their blood, continuing our hike up the tower.
The stairwell opened into a tall hall where two more charged us from where they stood outside an elaborately painted set of iron doors marked by a large sideways figure eight, our moons in their center, topped by the sun.
Kresida sprinted forward, prepared to take them down, but my magic was faster.
It speared forward in two ribbons of black, engulfing the two and devouring them within a second.
Their armor crashed to the floor as ash replaced flesh.
“I guess that works too,” she murmured, surging to the doors. She reached for the handle and cursed as she whipped her hand back, a fresh line of red blisters forming on her light brown palm.
Locked with magic? I cursed myself for not waiting for Carina or Nerissa. My hand hovered over the shining metal, the Obscura restless beneath my palm as if noting there was nothing it could do. My shadows could only destroy organic material. But the Transcindiel…
“Stay back,” I murmured, leashing the darkness within me and matching the Transcindiel’s war song with my mind’s voice. The golden wisp of magic slithered up to meet me, and I latched it to the amplifier around my neck before pushing it into the doors.
My mind formed a solid oak. A towering, domineering tree.
I sent an axe crashing down at its base.
Again. And again. Until the creek of snapping wood groaned in the silence of my mind.
I waited for the resounding crash, for the doors to transform from iron to oak, so I could spear that darkness toward them, so I could turn them to ash.
The familiar burn of the amplifier bit at my chest, the sickening smell of sizzling flesh filling the hall. I resisted the urge to rip the pendant off, to fling it across the hall. The doors seemed to buck against me, resisting the magic.
“Try something else,” Kresida breathed. “However, you’re trying to change it, it’s too much. Too different.”
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the smoke wafting from beneath my armored vest. Too different… Xenelpha’s words returned to my mind.
Ice calls to water as magma calls to stone.
What did iron call to?
The tall oak in my mind’s eye disappeared, replaced by the easy current of the Ripped River. I envisioned the metal doors before me melting into a blazing, silver stream. I spooled the image with that golden light, sending a blast of magic into the doors.
Golden light erupted. Kresida’s arm flew up to shield her eyes. I blinked, a fresh wave of nausea rolling over me as an overwhelming, metallic scent shoved up my nostrils. The silver iron glowed orange before turning a bright crimson as it liquefied and slid to the floor in a wave.
Blood.
We raced through the shallow pool, sloshing through the hall and into the chamber.
Shouts echoed through the room as kingsguards raised their swords. Saros stood at the center, the moons’ light filtering in from the large window gilding his frame like a false angel. He held his domineering staff in one hand and a long blade in the other.