Chapter 6
SIX
ARYELLA
Over four hundred years ago, you came into my blacksmith’s shop and demanded a blade. The dagger I gave you in Warrich is the same one. I kept it sharp for you.
When they go for your head, duck and strike lower.
—FROM THE BUTCHER OF NYRIDA’S LAST KNOWN LETTERS TO QUEEN ARYELLA I
The next day, Shera and I stood in a cluster of cliffside redwoods overlooking our destination.
Elias Winterton’s barracks was a south-facing, mammoth wooden fortress tucked between the twin mountains Cyrus and Childir, named after two of the alleged children of Sussurro.
It was only legend, since it was forbidden for gods to mate with humans.
But Gemma once said in jest that Sussurro may have had so many offspring because he couldn’t stop his own wind power from carrying him from one whorehouse to another.
She’d also told me that when tensions were high in the Barracks, close quarters, high stakes, and the need to blow off steam made the fortress its own kind of whorehouse.
I wasn’t interested in that after what I’d felt kissing Gavin in Brinnea. Heat gathered in my clenching core at the memory of him touching me. How soaked he’d made me between my?—
“ You won’t stand a chance in there if you can’t keep your skin from flushing every time you’re nervous ,” Shera said, cutting off my thoughts. She sat beside me, licking her front right paw.
Nervous wasn’t how I’d describe what the memory of him did to me. I shot her a glare.
“ Do you do anything other than groom yourself? ” I asked. She was constantly licking her paw, her stomach, her rear. “ It’s excessive. ”
“ Felines are superior when it comes to cleanliness. ” Unbothered, she began to wash her ears. “ Stop being distracted. ”
I refocused on the fortress before me in obedience.
In his letters, Gavin theorized that the more my body realized its power, the more I’d be able to sense power.
He was right. Months ago, I hadn’t felt the wards around Tovick or Brinnea, but I could feel the protective energy around the Barracks.
Thankfully, Simeon’s wards were crafted to keep out dark, unnatural forces like Molochai’s corrupted shadows.
The wards didn’t work against the power of the gods.
It was why I’d been able to heal that little boy in Tovick, a warded city, and why, if Elias and his soldiers did try to kill the girl I was pretending to be, I’d be able to save myself.
But it was vital for my plan that my magic stayed secret. I didn’t want to use it to find my place. I needed to understand who and what I was fighting for, and I wanted to earn respect the same way they all did.
In his letters to me, he made me confident that I could.
You are instinct , he wrote. You are light and life and air and warmth. You are everything natural and inevitable. You are pure, breathtaking majesty.
Some of his letters he’d written before he came to me in Warrich, others during our travels to Brinnea. I emblazoned every one of his words in my memory.
“ It’s a lot bigger than I expected ,” I told Shera.
The walls were built from redwoods just like the ones around us, at least thirty feet high with spikes carved into the top of each log. Watchtowers broke the surrounding wall into sections, with more spikes protruding from the uppermost ridge of each roof.
The entire place was a living, breathing warning.
Do not enter.
But that was exactly what I wanted to do.
Early-morning mist impaired my view of the main entrance, but I saw the outline of a tall stone bridge connecting the fortress to level ground.
“ I hope you have a plan. ” Shera paced anxiously, her large paws crunching leaves and twigs underfoot.
“What’s wrong? You were fine a second ago.”
“Yes, until I thought about how easily they could impale your tiny body on one of those spikes.”
Good gods.
“ Thanks for that ,” I grumbled. My organs had already been displaced from my body once. I had to have faith that my allies would never do something so barbaric. “ I’m going to ask for Elias. He chooses his soldiers. Without his queen, he’ll need fighters. He’ll have to hear me out. ”
“In theory.”
I ignored her lack of confidence. Through the dense thicket of trees, I barely made out the dim but rising glow of the sun in the eastern sky.
Finn had told me there were at least fifteen to twenty guards patrolling the exterior perimeter of the fortress.
I was close enough now, I was shocked I hadn’t seen one yet.
“ How far out will you be able to hear me? ” I asked Shera.
“I’m not sure, but I’ll stay close.”
I lifted my hood over my head and descended the slope toward the front entrance. The terrain was steep and muddy, but the boots I wore had flexible soles with a firm grip and made minimal noise.
There’d be guards in the towers and just inside the gates. I had to hope they would hear me out. I was here to talk, to help , not fight.
I held my breath and skated down the rocky slope, heart pounding. My feet slipped twice, but I reached the bottom and pressed my back against a tree.
Breathe.
I obeyed and tried not to focus on the fact that the voice I heard was his . I’d never get him out of my head.
I didn’t want him out of my head.
“Who the hell are you?” someone demanded from behind me.
I spun around, eyes widening at a tall guard in black, quilted leather armor with a long sword sheathed at his side. My daggers wouldn’t stand a chance against a blade like that.
“I’m here to join the fight against Molochai,” I rushed out. “I just want to speak with the commander.”
He narrowed his beady eyes and stepped closer, boots crunching over twigs and leaves. “Then why were you sneaking around? Breaking in?”
“No! I’m not…” I sighed, wary of sounding overly defensive. “I’m not trying to break in. I’m just trying to get to the front door.”
His curled lip showed he didn’t believe me in the slightest. “Are you aware that Molochai’s Insidions have been spotted north of the border in increasing numbers in recent months?”
“Yes. I’m not an Insidion.”
The sound of his sword unsheathing raised the hair on the back of my neck. Shit. He was going to make me fight him. Gods, could I really do this?
You can.
Gavin’s voice helped me force a deep breath through my nose to slow my sporadic pulse, just in time for the guard to lunge and swing at me.
I dodged him, using my speed to my advantage, spinning around his body before he could swing again.
I leapt onto his back, hooked my ankles inside his legs, and took him in a chokehold.
I’d practiced this once on Gavin, who was twice this man’s size, and then many more times on Damond, but neither of them had been thrashing wildly.
“Intrud—”
“No, no!” I clamped one hand over his sweaty mouth and tightened my forearm around his neck, directly over his trachea like I’d been taught.
“Don’t do that. I just want to get to the front entrance, and you’re making this quite difficult”—I exhaled in frustration—“but I’ll make sure someone comes to help you. ”
The guard reached back with a gloved hand, scraping and pawing at my face, my hair. But his attempts grew weaker. It was working.
“There we go.” I unhooked my legs to brace for the ground. “Good night for now.”
His arms fell limply at his sides, his head slumped, his knees collapsing soon after. I found a steady pulse in his neck. He was heavy, but I was strong enough to lower and drag him by the arms to a spot beside a tree.
I regained my bearings and saw no one coming, then called for Shera.
“Can you still hear me?”
“Yes.”
Relief lifted a weight off my chest.
“ Can you see me? ” I asked.
“No.”
Maybe that was for the best. The last thing I needed was my rare wildcat reacting to any perceived danger and tearing a chunk of flesh out of someone. Or worse.
The closer I came to the fortress’s front entrance, the more I realized it was eerily quiet, even for so early in the morning. Perhaps many of the guards were still asleep. Or maybe they weren’t used to anyone approaching.
Remorse and unease tangled into a knot in the pit of my stomach. This wasn’t going how I’d planned. I’d wanted a cordial conversation with Elias, not a fight with one of my own soldiers before I could reach the front door.
I pushed away lingering guilt and moved through the trees toward the entry. Their queen was alive and well. They would find out soon enough that I was more than a pawn in Simeon’s game.
To my left, someone coughed. Another guard on patrol in the woods, this one massive and burly. I stepped back and looked up at him, cursing my luck. He was just about Gavin’s size.
“Halt!” His fists rose, level with my face. “Who are you?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he raged at whatever he saw over my shoulders. I glanced back and saw the soles of the first soldier’s boots protruding from behind a tree.
“Listen, I’m here to help,” I rushed out. “He came at me. I don’t want to hurt anyone?—”
I ducked to dodge his enormous fist.
“Come on!” I groaned, dropping low and gripping the hilt of my ancient blade. Just like the first guard, a long sword was sheathed at his hip. “I just want to talk!”
I didn’t give him time to reach his sword, swiping my blade across the top of his thigh.
Blood painted the forest floor, but the wound was shallow and wouldn’t be fatal.
He stumbled, allowing me to strike between his eyes with my elbow.
He teetered, giving me time to thrust an uppercut into his jaw and send him crumpling to the ground.
My knuckles throbbed as I cringed down at his unconscious form.
“ Maybe I should have just let them apprehend me ,” I said to Shera.
“ I really prefer you defend yourself ,” she replied. “ Clearly they’re on edge. ”
This wasn’t off to a good start. I groaned in frustration and moved toward the main gate of the fortress, interrupted by the snap of a whip before I could get too far.
I looked down to where I felt a sharp sting and a rope lassoed around my ankle.
On the other end of the rope was a sizable male fighter with light hair.
He jerked it tight, yanking my legs out from under me.
I hit the ground, the impact wrenching air from my lungs, and then I was being dragged across dirt and twigs toward the front entry bridge.
“I just want to speak with the commander!” I shouted in frustration, scrambling for my blade and narrowly dodging the lethal swing of his sword.
“But I guess this is how it’s going to be.
” My core was strong enough to propel me forward to grasp the rope.
I unsheathed my blade with one hand. Four rough slices later and I cut myself free, then retreated and regained my footing, just in time to dodge the second deadly swing of his blade.
“Scrappy bitch,” he snarled as metal struck gravel instead of me. The sword clattered from his grip. I dodged his fists—left, right, up, back, down. His size and strength might usually guarantee him a win, but I used my small, nimble body to my advantage, waiting for him to exhaust himself.
I barely escaped his brass-knuckled right fist more than twice. I could have struck back, but that would require me to get closer. One good blow from any of these fighters could knock me out. I’d have one shot, and it needed to count. Hurting these people was not my objective.
“Are you going to dodge like a coward or fight back?” he barked.
“This is me fighting back!” I snapped. “Though I wish you’d just listen to me! I!” I dodged his fist. “Want!” Left. “To!” Right, then left. “Help!”
He stumbled and reached again for his sword, his leather-gloved hands fastening around the hilt before he lurched upward, swinging. I darted backward, but the blade was long. I yelped when the tip sliced into my shoulder through my leathers.
“ Aryella! ” Shera cried out from the forest beyond.
“I’m fine!”
The wound burned and smarted, but it wasn’t that deep.
I gripped my bloody shoulder and groaned while my opponent circled me.
My feigned weakness convinced him to approach slowly.
He wasn’t expecting the heel of my hand to swiftly strike his chin, nor did he predict the knee I drove straight into his side.
The crack of his ribs sounded gods-awful as he went down. He fell to the ground unconscious.
Between the gaps in the fortress walls, smoke danced languidly from chimneys atop wooden buildings. I shifted and tightened the strap of my knapsack to conceal my bloody shoulder wound and lifted the hood of my cloak back over my head.
When I turned back toward the entry, just about to cross the bridge to the large main door, a pair of unforgiving hands clamped down on my shoulders.
This time, I was face-to-face with the swords of at least ten soldiers. All very long, very sharp, and pointed at me.
Shit.