Chapter 45
Chapter Forty-Five
Dante
“He is more persistent as time goes on and, should I lose myself to the madness, I wouldn’t wish his intrusion upon the minds of any of my kin. But I feel a record must be kept.”
— From a Recently Recovered Letter Signed By Eximius of House Avus
Ihesitated.
Which was exactly the sort of thing that would get you killed in a battle like this.
But I couldn’t help it. I was tired, so tired of the killing.
And I'd found myself switching sides yet again.
So I killed the ones who came for me once the general ordered us onward, but I took no pleasure in it.
I tried to stay close to Adrian, to defend her back as I'd been ordered, to bolster her power in whatever way I seemed capable of, but the field was a disaster and I found myself separated from her more often than not.
Once I'd lost count of how many I'd killed, once my arms had begun to grow sore from swinging my sword, once I wrenched the weapon from the dozenth chest cavity of the day, I became aware that something had changed.
Men were screaming from behind me now, some of them had turned around and were facing the wrong way, swinging their swords at something behind us. A second front?
“Dante!” someone was shouting minutes or maybe hours later. I couldn’t be sure. I was too lost in the battle to notice how much time had passed.
I whirled around, searching for the voice. It was so familiar but it hadn't been Adrian or the general.
"Dante!" they screamed again.
I peered upward, raising a hand to shield my eyes from the harsh sun, and blinked at the rider circling high above me. Ksenia? When had she gotten here? She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be in Pavos.
“Adrian!" she screamed, the panic in her tone pulling me out of my confusion. "Get to Adrian!”
I looked up, blood running down my forehead into my eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was mine. It didn’t matter.
Adrian. My gaze swept right and then left, looking, searching. Get to Adrian.
I saw her at last, on the far side of the field, standing against what could only be a Victor herself. I’d never seen her before, only heard her description from soldiers half in their cups. Chassina. Beautiful, ancient, deadly.
I ran.
Ksenia reached her first, Phantom swooping with jaws open wide.
At the same moment, Gryfon attacked. But not with steel.
My feet slowed, nearly tripping over themselves altogether, as I watched the shimmering blade of light encasing his real blade.
He swung and would have decapitated Chassina if she hadn’t thought to phase at that exact moment.
The general's shining blade met nothing but air.
Then a gut-wrenching boom filled the air.
Men around me ducked and fell, screaming as the ground rattled beneath our feet, sand shifting and jumping at the quake.
I nearly lost my own footing but forced myself on toward the source of the quake herself.
I watched as the wards shattered and Adrian fell.
Skidding to a stop beside her, I leaned over her to ensure she was still alive.
She stared up at me, breathing hard.
“It’s okay, Adrian, you’re okay,” I told her. “You did it.”
I pressed a hand to her chest, letting my power rush into her, feeling beneath the skin. The moment I felt the steady heartbeat thrumming against my fingertips, I relaxed. Her eyelids fluttered and then she fell unconscious.
Another flash of light from Gryfon's sword lit the field as Phantom and Ksenia dove at Chassina again.
The ancient Victor was screaming in outrage as she phased again and again.
I didn't stay to watch as she shot into the sky and away, Ksenia and Phantom soaring after her. I just knelt and lifted Adrian, knee almost buckling from an injury I hadn’t even noticed.
I glanced down to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from behind my calf. They'd had archers?
Shaking my head to clear it of the pain, I carried Adrian across the field, back toward the friendly line, toward where I hoped the general had had the sense to set up some help.
“The tents are this way,” a gruff voice spat from beside me.
I didn't even look at the general but followed his instructions enough to turn in the right direction.
They'd hidden their encampment behind a jutting sandstone cliff far from the battle. It was a good spot, one I would have picked myself, I admitted begrudgingly.
“Bring her in here,” he said, opening the flap of the nearest tent.
I stepped inside to find a dark space lit with candles that smelled of herbs, rugs littering the ground below, covering up the sand as best as they could. Though there was never any way to be completely rid of the unruly grains.
“What happened?” someone spoke, stepping through the curtain of a portioned off section of the tent. He was tall and thin with golden skin and golden hair and his face was set in an expression of someone who seemed to always be thinking.
“She did it,” Gryfon said, sweeping everything off of a table, clearing a space so I could put Adrian down. I did so as carefully as I could and stepped back to find the men regarding each other, something like surprise on each of their faces. “She brought down the wards.”
The other man blinked at the general before turning his awed expression to Adrian where she lay unconscious on his table.
“Incredible,” he whispered, amazed.
“Is she going to be okay?” Gryfon asked quickly and I thought there might be more than simple concern in his voice.
I narrowed my gaze, watching him as he took a step closer to her before peering up at his companion.
The other man approached Adrian cautiously, bending to examine her more closely without touching her. He circled her slowly, nodding every now and then.
“She’ll be alright,” he announced finally and I saw the tension in the general’s shoulders visibly ease.
“I highly doubt she's ever used the corruption at that capacity before.
She'll be utterly drained. Physically, mentally, perhaps emotionally as well. The darkness seems to be inexplicably tied to emotion. All she needs is to rest and recover.”
“We have to be moving the moment the citizens are liberated,” the general reminded his friend.
The other man turned back to Adrian, considering.
“She can ride in my wagon with my things,” he said decisively. “I’ll clear some out so she has the space. It won’t be a smooth ride but at least she can remain asleep.”
The general opened his mouth to respond but I cut him off before he could.
“I’ll ride with her,” I volunteered.
The general watched me with suspicion but I only glared back at him, jaw clenched. I wasn’t sure where I stood with Adrian anymore but there was no way I was letting her out of my sight around the general. Not after I’d seen him fight.
“Alright then,” the other man said, clapping his hands together and stepping away as though oblivious to the silent war waging between the general and I.
Obviously, he didn’t want me alone with Adrian.
I had tried to kill her once, after all.
Perhaps he was thinking I would try to again.
"For now, leave me. I'll need to ensure her exhaustion is the only injury she suffered on the battlefield. "
The general nodded once before striding to the tent flaps. He held one open and glanced back at me, brow raised in expectation. Refraining from rolling my eyes, I followed him out of the strange man's tent, leaving Adrian in his care.
The camp beyond was in chaos. The injured and dying were being dragged back on cots previously only used for sleeping. Healers were running between them, bending in the dust and doing the best they could. I glanced down at my hands. I could do even better.
Looking up, I found the general watching me with a sneer. He knew what I was capable of, what I could do. He was probably disgusted by the fact that I'd only just now considered healing these people. So I stormed away from him and fell to my knees by the first cot I came upon.
Pressing my palms flat upon the rapidly rising stomach of a man who'd lost a leg and a lot of blood, I focused on the power surging through my veins and ignored the general glaring at me from a few feet away until he stomped off and began barking orders somewhere else in the encampment.
For hours, I went from cot to cot, healing the wounded as best as I could, only pausing when the other healers, recognizing my magic for what it was, brought me water or a damp towel to cool myself and rest a bit.
The injuries became a blur, the faces of the soldiers all blending together, until there was nothing but the healing power snaking through my veins, knitting bone and tendon together again.
I was sweating, breathing heavily, and tiring significantly, when I noticed the first body that didn't belong.
I blinked down at the ornate sky blue vest over an even lighter buttoned shirt, staring at the little silver pin on the left shoulder of a bird in flight.
This wasn't armor or any clothing which came from the people of the desert.
This man was from Sanctuary, House Avus in particular, and his throat was slashed from ear to ear.
"Please listen to me! You don't understand!" someone was screaming.
I looked up, blinking in the hot afternoon sun, to see a line of refugees streaming into the camp.
They were from Sanctuary. I could tell even without seeing anyone I recognized.
The way they walked in the sand, legs wobbling and eyes wide, showed they didn't belong here.
As did the way they dressed in casual jeans and frayed, faded tee shirts.
It was all so familiar and yet so distant, like a part of a past I could barely remember anymore. But none of them were screaming.