68. A CALL TO WAR #2
I caught hold of his arms as I stood, and his attention immediately went to my shoulder.
“I’m okay,” I answered before he could ask. “Your ankle—”
“It’s not a concern,” he said, pulling me into him.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know.” He turned, searching the room frantically for the others. “Aremis!”
A cough and a grunt had us spinning around to locate the sound.
“Over here!” Aremis responded. “I’m helping Remic!”
We climbed over the table, which had been split down the center and now lay in two jagged pieces.
At the other end of the chamber, orbs soared through the entrance, casting much needed light upon everything. They moved with urgency, as if they were here to help. One rushed right for Niall, stopping a few feet from him.
“Get Eathril!” Niall commanded it.
The orb sped off.
Up ahead, I finally saw Aremis kneeling over Remic.
“His wing,” he said, panting. “It’s pinned.”
Remic let out a hiss through clenched teeth, trying not to move as Aremis heaved and shifted some of the rock that had fallen onto his left wing.
“Let me,” I said, catching Aremis’s arm before he went back to try and lift another.
I tapped into my power, and each jagged stone levitated on my command, freeing the appendage. Remic sagged with relief. I hit my knees next to him and ran my hands over the feathers that were bent and mangled near the top ridge of the wing.
“I’m fine,” he assured me. “Are you—”
“I’m unharmed.”
He gave a particular look of concern at my shoulder, at the tear in my sleeve and the blood that had stained the fabric, but didn’t question me further.
Voices began echoing throughout the chamber as the others regained consciousness. The rumbling and quaking had stopped, but I could sense that something was terribly wrong.
“Aremis,” Niall said, “find the others, now.”
Without hesitation, Aremis’s Aura pulsed, separated from his body, and went on the hunt.
Remic looked up, his eyes full of worry. “Niall, the gates—”
“I know.” Niall whirled, searching the area. “Where is Roirdan?”
Another wave of panic flooded me.
Roirdan had yet to answer.
“Over here!” someone called out behind us, but it was not the commander’s voice.
We shifted through the rock and found the older council member kneeling over Roirdan.
“He’s unconscious. Looks like he took a blow to the head,” the male said as he dabbed at the blood that trickled from a wound near Roirdan’s temple.
My stomach tightened with a pang of regret. “I-I tried to get my shield out to everyone in time . . . but it only made it so far.”
“The fact that you even managed to get a shield up at all is astonishing,” Niall said as he knelt over Roirdan.
The male on the floor next to him stared up at me in awe. “You were the one who shielded us?”
I nodded. “I tried to.”
“It worked,” he confirmed. “Thank you.”
On the other side of the broken table, armor clanked against stone, and voices echoed in our direction as the others emerged, all of them seemingly unscathed.
My shield had worked—for the most part . . . aside from my shoulder, Niall’s ankle, Remic’s wing, and Roirdan’s head.
As if simply thinking of him was enough to wake him, Roirdan came back to consciousness with a fury. He shoved at the male and swung at Niall with wide eyes.
“Whoa, Roir, it’s me,” Niall said, dodging the commander’s fist.
Once Roirdan recognized who was above him, and that he wasn’t waking up to some sort of threat, he let out a heavy sigh. “Fuck. I hate going unconscious.”
I peered down at him. “Do you always wake up this feisty?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” The playful grin he gave me told me his injury wasn’t as serious as it looked.
Though his humor was usually appreciated in stressful times like this, I couldn’t find it in me to smile.
“Maeson, Nivelle, and Silas are all right,” Aremis called out, his focus distant as he checked in with his Aura. “They are combing through the main areas, assessing the damage and checking on the others that were in The Keep.”
Thank the gods they were unharmed.
I turned toward Niall as he stood. “What about the rest of Calledan?”
“Aremis, check in with the patrols, now!” Niall commanded. “I want eyes on the gates and the city.”
Before Aremis could respond, the orb that Niall had sent away came flying toward us, and Eathril’s voice rang out through the shadows along with it. “I am here, My Lord.”
“What is this, Eathril?” Niall asked.
“I think you’d better take a look for yourself.”
The Lookout, Niall said into my mind.
I nodded, grabbing hold of his arm.
In a blink, we were standing atop the mountain, the wind whipping against our faces, and what we saw made the hair on the back of my neck rise.
Darkness was swirling over Salterra . . . Retreating.
It had been Skadi—or rather, her power.
“How?” I whispered.
“She is not bound to Salterra like Lyceius is, which is why I think she was able to push past the wards and get to you when we met her at the northern gate.”
“If these wards have no hold on her, then we need to make sure she doesn’t tear through the front lines during the war. If she makes it into Calledan, or anywhere else . . .”
Niall didn’t reply. He knew just as well as I did what that would mean. When he finally did speak, his tone was full of malice. “This was a warning—retaliation for Folquin getting caught.”
“Her power followed him? How could she or Lyceius even have known where he was?”
“They are gods. Their capabilities surpass that of our comprehension.”
His reply weighed heavily on me. Very rarely had I ever felt a sense of overwhelm or inadequacy. But in that moment, those feelings were seeping in and spreading so quickly through my gut that I thought I might vomit.
No. I could not let them take root. I refused to even allow doubt to creep in, because if I did, it would jeopardize everything we were fighting for.
My power was enough. And Niall’s, alongside it, would give it the edge it needed. Just as the prophecy foretold.
Staring at the dark mass that marred the horizon, I knew the time had finally come. There was no more anticipation. Whether we were ready or not, we were on the cusp of everything unfolding, and the enemy was not waiting for us to deduce tactics and formulate plans.
The enemy was here.
Niall’s shadows stirred, swirling to life around us and whipping at the air like they were chomping at the bit. My power rose up as well, gathering itself in a fury. A willing answer to a call to war.