Chapter 12
twelve
Dawn breaks with the color of bruised flesh across the horizon. I stand at the edge of our encampment, my hair braided tightly against my scalp, battle leathers cinched across my body. The soldiers behind me move with quiet efficiency, their faces grim but dedicated.
“He’s coming,” Selene says, appearing at my side. Her golden armor gleams dully in the early light, freshly polished for what might be her ultimate battle.
I nod, feeling the weight of everything settle into my bones. “I know. I can feel him.”
The air has changed, carrying a metallic tang that has nothing to do with blood–not yet. It’s a scent of magic twisted. Atlas’s magic.
“The eastern flank is secured,” Selene continues. “Archers positioned along the ridge. Water reserves are full.”
“And Kya?”
“In position. Though, Drāhēn?, I still don’t trust –”
“I know,” I interrupt, my eyes fixed on the northern horizon where dust clouds have risen. “But she’s made her choice.”
The ground beneath us trembles, subtle at first, then growing. Birds scatter from the trees at the edge of the clearing, their panicked calls piercing the morning stillness.
“Drāhēn?,” Selene says, her voice dropping to a whisper.
I turn to her, taking her face between my palms. “Don’t. You will survive today, and be secured in knowing I have protected your family in Antalis, I have a plan in place for that.”
She nods, eyes glistening. “It has been my honor to serve you.”
“No,” I correct her, “it has been mine to be beside you.”
The trembling grows stronger, and now we can hear it–the pounding of so many feet marching in unison. The distant howls of creatures that should never have existed.
I release Selene and turn back toward the horizon, raising my arms. Water responds instantly, rising from the ground, from the air itself, swirling around me in concentric rings that pulse with my heartbeat.
“Sound the horns,” I command.
The deep call of battle horns splits the air, and my soldiers move into formation behind me. Three thousand souls–farmers, merchants, scholars, healers–all transformed by war into warriors.
The first of Atlas’s forces crests the hill, and my breath catches in my throat. The monsters Kya spoke of, wolves the size of three horses with flames licking from the tips of their fur, lead the charge. Behind them march his soldiers, their armor blackened.
At their center, I can see Atlas on horseback. His once handsome face twisted with malice, eyes glowing with unnatural fire. His crown, once silver, is now tarnished to black from being burnt. Beside him rides Kya, her expression carefully blank, her hair braided down her back.
I don’t spot Thesix though, no matter how hard I try to find him.
Atlas raises his hand, and his army halts with eerie precision. The silence that follows is more terrifying than a battle cry. It’s otherworldly, deadly, like balancing on the tip of a needle.
“Drāhēn?!” His voice carries across the field, loud. “Khaysus says to remind you, he will see you soon.”
I step forward, allowing the surrounding water to rise higher. A reminder of exactly who I am.
“You’ve come a long way to die, Atlas.” I call back, my voice steady despite the fear and rage churning inside me.
He laughs. “I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”
“You will never get that. You truly think even if you win today, Khaysus will allow that?” I respond, taking another step forward. “I gave you honor, respect, leadership.”
“You gave me scraps!” he roars, his composure fracturing. “I pledged myself to you, and you threw me away for some baker’s son?”
The soldiers behind me shift restlessly but hold formation.
“Last chance, Atlas,” I say. “Surrender. Release Thesix from where you have him. End this madness.”
He smiles wickedly, as he raises his sword. “Kill them all!” Atlas screams. “Bring me her head!”