Chapter 74
KALLIE
Shouts erupted from the wounded. One man stood, clutching his side with a hand as he dragged his sword through the dirt with the other. Kallie squinted, looking beyond the stranger as two others dragged a body toward the crowd.
"Shit," Graeson hissed as the moon’s glow spilled onto a pair of wings being dragged through the dirt.
"Oh no," Kallie mumbled.
"Is he…is he with you?" Phaia asked, peering at Kallie and Graeson.
"Unfortunately," Graeson mumbled.
Kallie slapped him on the side. "He’s your friend."
"Dani’s actually," Graeson corrected, rather unhelpfully.
Kallie glared at him. She had seen how worried Graeson was when he first saw Moris in the clearing.
She had also witnessed the playful banter between the two, the faint smile that would appear on Graeson’s face whenever Moris teased him.
Although Graeson believed he was alone in this world, he was surrounded by people who cared about him.
"What? He’s more of a companion of mine," Graeson said. "Really an acquaintance."
Kallie groaned.
"Whoever he is to you, if you care about him, you better do something and fast," Phaia urged, as an angry horde gathered around Moris. "He won’t stand a chance against a mob, even an injured one."
Kallie didn’t bother to say that Moris would have no problem handling an angry mob. Instead, she hurried over, vaguely hearing Graeson groan before following her.
When they reached the crowd, Moris was trying to talk sense into the buzzing mob.
His control was slipping, though, as more shouts sounded.
Kallie could see Moris’ eyes darkening, his veins straining along the trunk of his neck as he became more frustrated.
They needed to control the situation before Moris’ emotions got the best of him.
Shoving her way through the bodies, Kallie jumped in front of Moris and tossed out her arms. "He won’t hurt you!"
Piercing shouts bombarded her ears instantly.
"He’s one of them!"
"Did you see what one of those beasts did to my wife?"
"Who are you to make demands?"
"You would rather defend him than put an end to this fight?"
Kallie tossed her hood back. "Many of you may not know me, but—"
A gasp rippled through the crowd.
"That’s her! The princess who betrayed us!"
"She’s to blame!"
Kallie retreated a step on instinct as the mob grew angrier.
At the cacophony of snarls, her skin prickled.
Her power stirred inside her, her core buzzing with untapped energy.
Each insult shot at her only pushed her power up higher and higher.
Beyond the chaotic fray, a distant rumble shook the leaves of the sequoias, a stark reminder of the battle waging on within the capital.
They were wasting time. She had to do something, and she had to do it now.
She threw her hands up. "Stop!" she demanded, her voice soaring over the crowd.
The shouts were swallowed in an instant, an eerie silence befalling the forest. Not only had the people gone silent, but they had stopped altogether, as if frozen in time.
She glanced at Moris, who knelt on the ground behind her with his jaw hanging open. The men who had dragged him over had since released him. Kallie frowned, her power sinking back down. Was the people’s silence the result of his power?
Putting the question aside, Kallie stepped forward cautiously.
"We are not the enemy. Sebastian is. The Prince has been leading your kingdom under the false pretense that the true king of Frenzia was sick and then abducted.
" Kallie looked at the weary crowd, hoping they could still hear her in their frozen state.
She swallowed and continued, "Hear me when I say that is a lie. With the king of Ardentol’s help, Sebastian has been working to overtake Vaneria and put it under one rule.
To further their own agenda, they falsely accused Rian and me of being unjustly taken in order to start a war.
The truth is more complicated than that.
"Sebastian is to blame for the drakonises.
He has taken your loved ones—your friends and family, your neighbors—and has turned them into weapons.
He has brought civil unrest into your kingdom.
At this very moment, your king is out there fighting.
He is putting his life on the line for you, his people.
Meanwhile, where is Sebastian? Did anyone see him fighting in the streets? "
At her question, the people stared at her, and she struggled to read their expressions. Were they even listening? Did they believe a single thing she had said?
To her relief, Phaia shouted a resounding no. When their gazes met, Phaia gave her an encouraging nod.
Kallie pressed on. "I have not known His Majesty for long, but one thing is certain: Rian cares for the people in this kingdom and their well-being more than anything else.
He would rather risk his life than let the crown fall to his brother, someone who seeks to destroy the peace the seven kingdoms fought for one hundred years ago. "
Kallie took a deep breath, hoping and praying some of her words reached open ears. But as the crowd shifted on their feet, their paralysis wearing off, her hope lessened.
Someone in the middle of the crowd was the first to speak out. "Even if what you say is true, we’re outnumbered. How do you expect us to fight wild beasts and an entire army?"
Others murmured their agreement.
Her nails bit into the flesh of her palms. "Reinforcements are coming," she said, holding onto her fleeting hope as tightly as she could.
"When?" someone else demanded.
Kallie swallowed hard. The answer was stuck in her throat.
She didn’t know when the Tetrian or the Pontian troops would arrive.
Terin had told her they were coming, but how long would it take them?
What if they didn’t bring enough troops?
What if they were too late? He said he sent word to Tetria, but what if the letter never arrived?
What if Ellie was on a fool’s errand? What if the troops from Tetria never came?
Her stomach churned, a nauseous knot coiling tighter with every unanswered question.
As if sensing her inner turmoil, Graeson shifted, causing her attention to snap to him.
Despite everything they had been through and everything the Fates had thrown at them, Graeson had never lost hope. He kept fighting for them. Even as he stood there amidst a fear-filled throng of injured and tired strangers, he still had hope for a brighter tomorrow, a brighter future.
She had to hold on to the hope that they would make it out of this.
She dug her heels into the ground. "They’re coming. But we need to hold on until they arrive unless we wish Sebastian to win. We—"
Kallie stopped mid-sentence, startled by a snapping twig and a hushed voice coming from the north, closer to the walls of the capital. Those standing around her straightened, their eyes widening as fear gripped them.
Kallie reached for the weapon tucked in the holster strapped to her thigh.
As the shadows shifted in the forest, Kallie looked over her shoulder. Graeson was already in front of Kallie, scimitars in hand. A puff of smoke plumed from his lips, curling in the moonlight.
"Protect them," he said, tipping his chin toward Myra and Phaia.
Kallie wanted to argue. But when she saw Phaia gripping Myra’s limp body to her chest, trembling, Kallie relented. She sprinted toward them just as the first soldiers burst through the trees, blood-soaked swords hanging at their hips.
Baring his teeth, Moris dug his fingers into the ground, scraping the top layer of soil. The muscles in his legs strained against his trousers, and his wings stretched out behind him as he prepared to take flight.
With whatever miscellaneous weapons they found, the civilians ran toward the soldiers.
"Stay back!" a man said, raising his weapon as the first line of soldiers appeared.
Heart pounding, Kallie strained to see the enemy cloaked in the shadows.
A gasp sounded behind her. Shuffling sounded, but Kallie didn’t dare take her eyes off the enemy.
"Stay behind me," Kallie ordered.
"But—" Myra was cut off when a woman shouted at the soldiers, demanding they leave.
One soldier made to speak, but another civilian threw something at him before he could. The object bounced off the soldier’s cheek.
"Was that a fucking rock?"
Kallie froze, her brows knitting together.
The voice was familiar. But before she could place it, the civilians charged, swinging branches and swords wildly.
Someone threw dirt at the soldiers. Others quickly picked up the tactic, grabbing handfuls and tossing dirt at the soldiers.
Between the debris and the shadows, the fight became a hazy blur in front of Kallie.
Kallie squinted. Was the darkness playing tricks on her? She could have sworn Moris’ wings were webbed.
"Laurince?" Myra croaked.
Kallie was jostled as Myra swayed, suddenly standing beside her. Kallie quickly grabbed hold of Myra, steadying her. But Myra pushed against Kallie, trying to break free. She stumbled, and Kallie reached out.
"It’s Laurince!" Myra said, pushing against Kallie.
"Laurince? Where?" Kallie asked, tightening her hold around Myra’s waist.
Myra pointed, her hand trembling as it hung in the air. "There."
Kallie squinted, searching for the familiar face. Had Sebastian’s men brought hostages to toy with them? To threaten those who were injured?
As her heartbeat thundered in her ear, she nearly missed the captain, her gaze fixed on the feathered wings that sparkled like opals in the moonlight. Kallie’s mouth fell open. Laurince was one of them. He was—
"It is him! He’s alive!" Myra cried out as she tugged on Kallie’s shirt. "They’re both alive!"
"Both?" Kallie asked, panicking.
"Laurince and Rian."
Kallie frantically searched the faces of the soldiers.
More civilians had joined the attack, and Kallie struggled to identify friend from foe.
She looked for Graeson, their connection tugging at her.
She did a double take, blinking at a man struggling a few feet from Graeson.
She could have sworn she knew that face, yet the man’s hair was different.
This man’s hair was as dark as night. His arm was wrapped around another person’s back.
He struggled under the man’s weight but refused to release him.
As he shifted his weight, he lifted his face, and familiar green eyes connected with Kallie’s.
Rian’s lips parted, as did Kallie’s.
This wasn’t Sebastian’s army. This was theirs.
But those who were attacking hadn’t realized it yet.
"Take her," Kallie commanded, passing Myra to Phaia.
She rushed forward, shouting. The cries and grunts of those fighting were too loud and masked her voice.
A sword clashed against another. Others charged with their sticks, their teeth bared.
A rock pelted Rian in the side, and he grimaced.
Then a man with a longsword came charging forward, a war cry pouring from his mouth.
Kallie’s head pounded. She spun, her hands digging into her hair. Where was Moris? He could stop the attack.
Her power twisted in her stomach, but there were too many.
There.
Kallie called out to Moris as he raised his weapon and pulled his elbow back, preparing to strike. But he didn’t hear her. Moris' blade hit the man’s armored brace and clanged against the metal.
Kallie skidded to a halt. Sweat soaked her neck as she took in all the people. She had to try. If she didn’t, who knew how many would suffer?
She took in a deep breath, her power rising through her stomach and up her throat. When it reached the tip of her tongue, she unleashed the command. "Stop!"
Her voice reverberated against the trees, causing the leaves to shake. In an instant, those at the front of the charge halted, their heels sinking into the dirt.
Her chest rose rapidly as her gift hummed beneath her skin. Kallie flexed her hands at her sides.
She did it. She had commanded them.
Graeson looked back at her, panic shining in his eyes and a question on his lips. She pointed at the soldiers. As Graeson followed her finger, someone else shouted, "It’s the king!"
Branches and rocks dropped to the ground as the people fell to their knees. Rian grimaced, his face twisting with agony, exhaustion, and something else Kallie couldn’t quite pinpoint.
She turned her attention to those who surrounded him.
Not all the soldiers wore armor. Some wore simple leathers; others wore casual tops and trousers.
All were battered and bruised. Ash coated their hair.
Soot, dirt, and blood stained their faces.
The marks of battle were etched into every wrinkle, every cut, every stain.
Some could barely stand, their arms wrapped around the shoulders of another.
And as Kallie took in the faces of the Frenzians who stood with King Rian, she realized what she had seen in his expression.
Defeat.