19. Yugawaralite
Idon’t know what I expected from the coronation, but it wasn’t this.
Six women are seated around the back of the throne, flanked by the strongest warriors in the giant army, all clad in their finest uniforms.
One look suggests that some of the women are gifts from neighboring countries or giant lords, as I see two green-eyed elves, two humans with light hair, and even an ogre with skin the color of moss growing on tall elms.
All of them have been stuffed into the same pixie outfit that I wear, though their costumes are gold.
We are all little trinkets for the new king.
My shoulders tighten as I observe them kneeling upon velvet cushions with gold tassels, their heads bowed, and hands folded neatly in their laps.
The Enduar head is still positioned behind the back of the throne, and it adds heat to the boiling in my blood.
I force myself to take another long look at the face of the young man who sacrificed himself for his people.
For me, and my right to a better life.
So help me, I”m going to snatch the grotesque display away and burn it. His body was already given a proper burial, and I don’t ever want his family to have to look upon such an awful decoration.
As I plot, the diamonds on my dress mess with my head. They play a low song, too quiet for the others to hear, that makes my brain pulse.
“Oh gods, that is stunning…”
“...a hundred diamonds…”
A few giants take up a discussion of my outfit when I pass, and I can feel their gazes hot on my skin. It’s a special kind of torture to maintain my composure and sink onto my feather-stuffed cushion when I hear the tail end of a comment about “small tits.”
Aside from the white color of my dress, I am also the only woman with a chain and leash. My cheeks heat as the tether is attached to the throne.
A part of me wonders if Lord Fektir’s daughter will join us as she did during the court meeting. In truth, I do worry that she was murdered after that meeting. She wasn’t kind, but I have a hard time wishing death upon her when she was chained up, just like me.
It isn’t long after I’ve sat down that the rest of the guests are ushered in.
I sneak glances at their finery and am shocked to see the long, sweeping swathes of fabric glittering in the light of the polished chandeliers. For a culture that values wood so much, it is shocking to see how many gems are there—far more than the Enduares could have ever sold in fifty years.
It almost makes me curious.
That is, until Lord Fektir walks in with his wife in tow. My heartbeat takes off galloping when Fektir catches me staring at him, and he nods once with a mocking smirk while Lady Fektir glares at me with undiluted disgust. Her artfully painted red makeup pairs well with the scars on her forehead and neck.
I look back down to the hands in my lap, but soon, his voice filters over.
“My my, I didn’t realize our daughter would be the only queen in attendance tonight.”
“Oh, stop,” Fektir’s wife says.
That makes my head snap up.
The lord is grinning with a feral look in his eye—the look of triumph. The curve of his lips tells the tale of a man who got his way.
And what did he want?
One of his daughters to marry into royalty.
The night in the library returns to me.
Rholker had threatened me, yes. But perhaps telling me I would be his comfort woman was also his sick way of assuring me of my continued presence in his life after he was married.
It makes sense why he hadn’t come to me in a few days. He was wrangling his bride.
Which is why… tonight…
I staunch the panic, trying to claw its way out of my body by taking several deep breaths. The music clashes with voices, but there is a gaping silence in my heart. There is no mating song. I am totally alone.
My mother was right—there would be no way to kill Rholker tonight unless I went to his room. And even then…
I think of my promise to the girls and ball my fists.
The will of the many over revenge.
I will kill him later with Teo at my side.
Right then, King Arion of the elves makes an entrance, still without a queen and ignores me entirely. I see his people take up several rows, in addition to the swamp ogres lining the walls without a proper place to sit.
The Six are not in attendance, which is strange since I know they are still in Zlosa. Perhaps they will be at the feast.
When the song changes, everyone goes quiet and stands.
I keep my head bowed, not wanting to give Rholker the satisfaction of seeing me stare at him as he struts down the aisle. It isn’t until he ascends to the throne that I see he is not alone—a second pair of feet is at his side. There is no throne for her so she stays standing at the bottom of the steps. A priest of Khuohr, the giant god of war, comes over, and only then do I look up.
Rholker is dressed from head to toe in white while his bride wears blood red that matches the makeup over her eyes. Gold and silver are decoratively stitched over his battle garb, and he carries a large ax. His hair is neat, but every visible tattoo has been darkened, in addition to a new tattoo on each of his hands.
Giantese is shouted throughout the space, echoing off the walls and emboldening the giants to shout terrible war cries as drums beat to the rhythm of my pulse. I understand enough to make out the bloody promises. Time drags on as the priest holds up a crown and speaks bloody blessings upon Rholker’s head.
It isn’t until the crown is placed firmly on Rholker’s brow that the giant men in the audience stand and retrieve shields from under their seats. They beat them in time with the drums as the priest’s attention turns to Lord Fektir’s daughter.
I remember her sniveling next to the throne, and now she stands there, sneering at me as if I were a smudge on her perfect silk dress.
“Lady Aska, bow to your husband, High King Rholker, and rejoice in your secured queenhood. May you produce heirs quickly!” the old giant calls out, in the common tongue, supposedly for the comfort of the invited guests.
She nods graciously as she falls to her knees, the first to bow to her husband.
Rholker leans down to take her hand and pull her up, then a circlet is placed on her head. It’s nothing in comparison to the diamond jewels embedded in his crown.
The coronation is finished just as soon as it started, and it takes little time for the new royalty to exit the throne room, hand in hand.
When I look at Fektir again, he grins at me like a champion. I don’t know exactly what he thinks he’s won. If it’s Rholker, I would’ve given him gladly. If he thinks it’s victory over the Enduares, then he is the greatest fool of them all.
I let go of the hold on the lyre string of my magic, and it stretches out, expanding further than it ever has while the gem in my chest starts to shine. I imagine myself a burning star in the sky, my power mixing with Teo’s to entomb him in a casket of lava. The cushion under my feet starts to smoke under the heat of my body.
His eyes grow wide, and his smile dims. I look up at him through the loose curly strands of my hair and smile.
There are a few gasps at the display of my magic, but everyone seems to think it’s some sort of party trick. They murmur in the rows, almost excited.
They have no idea what maelstrom of rock and crystal lurks in the dark, ready to swallow them into the earth.
“Stop that,” a warrior grumbles behind me. Another comes up and points a spear at my throat.
I listen only because of the women who will be waiting outside, primed for escape. The magic doesn’t leave me, it merely reverberates under my skin—out of sight.
The panic amongst the guests wanes, and they begin to stand and file out, starting with Lord Fektir’s row first. One of the guards steps forward and unchains me. The other women are left there, but I am taken out one of the side doors with barely enough time to look down at the singed velvet fabric from where I was seated moments before. The other women look at me with wide eyes.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, twisting back to look up at the giant.
“High King Rholker wants you to sit with him at the feast,” he grunts.
Unease swirls in my insides as the sounds of the highest lords and ladies in the land make their way to the feast. I wonder what Aska will think of my attendance—surely Lord Fektir will be furious.
“Will the other… gifts to his majesty be taken?” I ask, thinking of the elvish women, the ogre, and the other humans.
He doesn’t respond, clearly not feeling the need to stoop to my level with a response.
The smell of meat and spirits hits my nose as we enter a side room. We pause for a few moments, waiting for a sign before we are led through another servant’s passageway that spits us out into the great hall. I immediately spot the opulent table arranged in the center of the room. Rholker sits there with Aska Fektir at his side. The new giant queen.
Colors of every hue swirl before me. It’s almost hard to take in all the richly dyed stripes and intricate patterns. The sparkle of gems threatens to blind me in a room already illuminated by floating candles and torches.
More music plays from a group of ogres positioned at the back corner of the room. After seeing their king, I don’t feel like they are friends.
I’ve seen more of them in the last few weeks than in my entire life, but even I have to admit that their harpists, flutists, drummers, and lyrists play in perfect harmony.
It’s not Enduvida, but it’s pleasant. Especially for those making their way to the long, wooden feasting tables. A woman is at the front, singing in old ogrese. It’s… beautiful.
However, the space left for dancing is still, unsurprisingly, empty.
The giant waits for a pair of male elves from Arion’s court to pass, and then we walk up to the throne. A roar of voices still chatters on, but I can feel eyes on me.
The frilly costume I’ve been given moves against my body with each step. The stiff skirt rubs my hips and the diamonds on the breast band chafe my underarms, as if the energy of this awful ensemble wasn’t bad enough.
Sweat collects on my forehead and back, and I hope it causes the glittery powder to slide off my skin and make me a little less appealing.
“Come now, pretty slut. Show me a smile!” one of the giant lords calls as I pass, seconds before he reaches out to grab my ass.
On reflex, I yank on the lyre string of my magical reserve and light bursts out of me. I turn to hiss a curse upon the giant’s head, but he cries out and holds up an injured hand. The flesh bubbles on his palm from the burn, and he slinks back, running from the room.
“Your Majesty,” the warrior holding my chain says. He eyes me with palpable disgust. He knows I’m dangerous.
Good.
Rholker’s nostrils flare before he looks back at us. At me. His yellow eyes meet mine, and his pupils dilate.
“Ah, yes. Give her to me,” he says casually as he reaches out for the chain.
The warrior draws the links closer to his chest. “My king, I?—“
Rholker raises a brow.
“Has she been causing trouble?”
The man glances to either side. “I think she’s using her magic.”
Rholker’s expression stiffens, and he grows angry. “And? If anyone dares to touch her, let it be known that even the High King’s pets have sharp teeth!”
His raised voice makes all turn to look at us.
Yanking my chain away, he lifts it in the air.
“Behold! My secret weapon against our enemies!” he shouts.
The crowd cheers his toast, and he yanks my leash.
The movement automatically draws me closer to him, and Aska’s red head turns toward me. Her amber eyes are filled with disdain as she looks at the creature her husband has brought to eat with them.
I wouldn’t like to be here either.
Rholker pulls me close enough for the stiff skirt to press into his white pant leg.
I breathe, reigning in my magic with an iron fist. The string tenses and relaxes.
The flames abate.
If I hurt him now, there will be no chance to leave.
“Come now, Estela,” he says, slapping one hand onto his lap. “Sit.”
Aska’s eyes widen in horror.
“Rholker,” she whispers, enraged. “At least wait until after the party to fondle your plaything.”
His face darkens as he turns to look at Aska.
“As you sit at my side, remember you have gotten what you wanted—a crown. You won over your sister. Take pride in it, but know your godsdamned place.” He pats his knee once more, a silent command.
Aska isn’t finished. “You barely got what you wanted, my king. And you and I both know that if you openly disrespect me tonight, my father might do something… unpleasant. Marrying me was only the first part of your deal.” Her eyes are glittering, and her smile curves into something sharp and cutting.
Rholker opens his mouth, and I assume he’ll tell her to go to hell, but he surprises me and closes it. Aska’s father didn’t seem supremely worried about her receiving disrespect before, but the threat works well enough.
I would prefer not to be on his lap, especially since it means risking my escape plan.
Rholker looks back at me anyway, not hiding his hunger as he takes in every curve of my body and stretch of exposed skin. It makes my flesh crawl.
Then he nods his head once.
“Perhaps my new wife wouldn’t begrudge me a little show,” he says.
Aska lets out a long breath.
“As you wish,” she grumbles, waving her hand at us while she brings a bit of roast venison to her mouth.
“Dance, Estela,” Rholker says.
Every joint in my body stiffens. I know nothing of dancing.
Rholker twists the chain around his hand, waiting for me to comply. The tension between us is rising, but my mind is drowning in my plans, in everything I need to do before the end of tonight.
Escape.
It isn’t until his eyes drop to my breast band where my mother’s stone is carefully sewn that I panic. Falling into action is the easiest way to distract him from noticing the stone.
I bring my arms out to the side as graceful as I can, and begin to move my hips. It likely looks as awkward as it feels, but Rholker doesn’t mind. He watches the path my fingers take through the air and smiles.
It’s only then that he picks up his wine and starts to drink, relaxing into the chair and loosening his hold on my leash so that I can move more freely. As I twist from side to side, I let my eyes unfocus, unwilling to look at the crowd that no doubt is watching me from the corners.
Thinking of them will only make me angry, and that would make me?—
“High King Rholker,” a smooth male voice says behind me.
It takes effort not to drop my arms in embarrassment because I know that voice.
Rholker’s eyes drag away from me and toward the newcomer. “Ah yes, King Arion. What a pleasure.”
My giant master does not nod his head, nor does he adjust himself in his seat.
I lessen the width of my movements and finally turn to look at the king who betrayed my husband.
My mate.
He is the reason I am here right now.
I can’t keep the crystal from glowing, but luckily, he doesn’t appear threatened.
“Thank you for inviting us to your… exquisite celebration,” Arion says.
Blood rushes in my ears as I see his long, silky hair arranged similarly to how it was the first day we met. His wooden crown gleams in the torchlight, and his piercing eyes sink into mine.
He doesn’t smile or incline his head. This man stood at my wedding, watched my vows, and betrayed us.
“I must admit, I share your fascination with human women,” he says conversationally as I continue to dance.
Rholker pauses and gestures vaguely toward the room.
“Perhaps you would like to select one for yourself,” he says.
Arion nods, pleased.
“Actually, there is one that I met in the troll caves. She was quite… intoxicating. When you lay siege to Enduvida, I would consider her a gift of your highest respect.”
My heart rate picks back up. He’s talking about Arlet.
Rholker chuckles. “Your confidence is reassuring. Consider it done.”
It’s the last straw for me. Talk of the death of my people, my home, my kidnapping flows through the air like notes of music. Somehow, it feels like rocks have crushed me while the rest of my body implodes.
I lunge at Arion, nails first. My fingertips barely graze his green robes when the collar around my neck is jerked back. I sputter and choke, but the sudden movement makes me fall, and I knock my head against Rholker’s throne.
“Good hell, I told you that bringing an animal to the dinner table was a bad idea,” Aska says. “Our greatest apologies,” she directs to the king while I wait for the blurriness in my vision to clear.
The light emanating from my stone makes it hard to see.
Arion stares at me in horror and then steps back, just out of reach.
I clench my hands, wanting another chance.
“I await my pretty red-haired gift, King Rholker, and I—” he says, still staring at my chest, with the slightest tremor in his voice. “Should I come back to discuss more later?”
“Get her out of here, husband,” Aska demands. “She’s ruining everything.
Rholker’s jaw is clenched, but he doesn’t let go of the tightness on my chain.
As if on cue, six dark-robed women also approach the throne.
It takes a second to register, and the room is quiet while I am forced against the side of Rholker’s throne. The music starts to sour, and the lights above us dim.
“Essstela,” Dahlia’s haunting voice hisses.
Everyone at the king’s table stiffens, and I feel her unseen eyes on me.
Arion looks at the women with alarm. “Who, exactly, are you? And why do you cover yourselves like assassins in the night?”
The five women that flank Dahlia turn toward the Elf King.
“We are the Sssix,” one says simply.
Strange that he doesn’t recognize them. Aren’t they elves?
Arion seems unimpressed. He turns back to Rholker.
“Do you make it a habit of inviting those who entirely conceal their features from the other guests? How can I be sure they aren’t sent straight from the trolls to kill us?”
The Six are silent, as is the king, but a giant completely oblivious to the tension walks by with three goblets of wine in two fists. His cheeks are ruddy, and he stumbles near the woman at the back of the flank. The two tumble over, and the black robe is yanked away.
She hisses and screeches, but wine splashes over her face, and whatever magic was keeping her concealed under the pitch-black fabric is revealed.
She’s no demon. No elf.
She’s a human.
I gasp. When the Enduares asked me about humans with magic, I told them about a legend among slaves: the Brujas.
They are real.
“A human?” Arion says, turning back to glare at Rholker. “Why are slaves attending the party the same as us?”
“We aren’t slaves,” Dahlia hisses, her voice low and strong.
She also yanks her hood off, revealing more elaborately painted greenish-black symbols over her pale skin. There’s a haunting allure to her gaze, but she appears unashamed. Her eyes are entirely black, as is the paint around the sockets. Straight black hair is braided into six sections tied at the back of her head with what looks like hollowed-out spinal bones.
The music stops entirely, and Aska has begun whispering furiously to Rholker.
Other elves are approaching, hands on their weapons, which causes several warriors to flock to us.
“What is the meaning of this?” another giant says as more and more draw near to see what’s happening.
I can see their fiery questions as they see Dahlia and wonder why six humans who don’t belong to the king can walk freely.
“Guards!” Rholker calls, clearly blanched.
His grip loosens just as Dahlia’s bewitching face flicks to me. Like a snake slithering into my consciousness, I hear a voice in my head.
Prepare to run, Daughter of the Light Weaver.
I blink, and then one of the giants grabs the woman attempting to stand.
“You look like a child smeared cow dung over your face. I’ll take you back to the pens. Maybe we’ll find a frozen river to dunk your ugly face into,” he laughs.
There is no warning before he goes straight as a plank, his eyes roll back into his head, and he falls over. Blood streams from his nose, mouth, and eyeballs.
Someone screams, and the giants move to grab the memory slicer.
It’s mere moments before total pandemonium breaks loose. Screams fill the air, and all music stops.
The second that the lights go out overhead, more screaming comes.
The stone.
I reach to the familiar spot on the breast band and yank away the labradorite.
Lights flicker on long enough to see the spilling of more blood and carnage.
Rholker begins to bellow. I bring the stone to my collar and hum my mother’s melody that’s followed me for days. I feel the metal heat against my skin, but it doesn’t burn. It just becomes… pliable.
I tear at it until it slides away from my neck. My heart is racing.
Metal bending.
As soon as its duty has been completed, the stone in my hand crumbles to dust in my hand.
The flickering lights barely illuminate the way to the servant’s door, which is optimal since all the guards are now in the hall, and the lords and ladies are fleeing from the main entrance. I run as fast as I can in the dim light until I reach the familiar entrance to the throne room.
My gaze lands on the Enduar head mounted on the wall. The slippers on my feet are nearly as good as bare feet, and they serve me well as I rush past pews and the artwork of tyrants.
When I reach the wall, I use the textured column to the left to climb up. Being a tree climber has always served me well.
I shove at the head, and it falls to the ground. I retrieve the profane decoration and run toward one of the many statues of Khuohr’s courtesans and consorts that bear flames.
Taking a long breath, I place the remains inside. The flame begins to lick at the wood and skin, and I sing the few words I remember from the parting cave as the wood crackles and skin burns.
There’s a crashing sound at the door. I fall, scramble to my feet, and start to run. Never once do I stop praying for that poor Enduar boy who sacrificed himself.
As I dash out of the palace, I head to the whipping racks near the back of the castle, where the palace guard sleeps.
The snow bites into my skin, but the movement will keep me warm enough for now. When I dart through the arched hallways, I hear the pound of metal-armored feet running.
Chills pass down my spine watching more guards run to the feast hall. I press myself against the cold marble and wait.
As soon as the sound fades, I continue to run. The tall, carved trunks with beams that support dozens of bloody chains come into view two dozen footfalls later.
I slow, taking in whipping racks with bloody chains dangling from the tall wooden beams to hold slaves upright. I nearly vomit at the stench that clings to the spot after decades of use, but I hold my breath and search for Melisa.
I don’t see her anywhere.
“Melisa!” I half whisper, half shout, completely desperate.
My heart is pounding loud enough to give me away—if this damned, sparkling white outfit doesn’t do the deed first.
My friend emerges from behind one of the columns, and runs over to me. Relief floods my body. Her eyes are wide, and she is dressed in dark cloaks.
Her arm stretches out with a length of the black fabric. “Cover yourself, it will make it easier to remain unseen.”
I nod, and start to push past her.
“Estela, wait.”
Her voice is serious.
“What’s wrong?”
Melisa shakes her head, and I see the tears on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. He’s not here.”
I freeze.
“What are you talking about?”
“Mikal, your brother. They… moved him. I went to check after you left for the feast,” she says. “Everything is awful, but the others are waiting for us. We have to go. It wasn’t easy for them to escape—more warriors will be after them soon.”
My brain can’t comprehend what is happening.
“No.” I shake my head. I lost him once before. I watched the giants take him from Enduvida. I had a dream that he was here. He was safe. “NO!” I shout at her when she tries to reach me.
My breath is coming out in shallow pants in the cold air, and my head squeezes. I can’t feel my legs.
“Go,” a voice from deep within urges. “She speaks the truth.”
The Fuegorra in my chest heats as a new vision blossoms before my eyes. Mikal’s body lies in the back of a cart. He is thin, dirty, and bruised. One of his eyes is completely swollen shut.
Before the surroundings come into view, the vision fades.
My hands tremble as the weight of the world crashes in. I try to step forward. “We have to?—”
Melisa grabs onto me, and covers my mouth.
“Estela, we have to go now—before someone finds us. I truly am so completely sorry, but I did bring your things. Please. Come on,” she begs, dragging me.
It takes a few feet but I start running with her, only half conscious of what is happening.
The palace blurs around me, and the further away we get, the more I hear the shouting. I can smell the blood that soaks the air as they try to heal whatever awful thing is happening inside.
Wind blows back my black cloak, chilling my body to the bone as we run to the meeting place. Thick patches of trees hold cloaked bodies. Not a single guard is anywhere in sight, but I see the huddle of people from here. Not one or two—at least thirty.
I slow down.
“Mierda.”
?1Melisa slows as well, looking at me.
“You told her that she could bring friends.” Her tone is careful like she expects me to say no. To turn her away.
As we near the group, Abi and Paoli wait for us. Abi smiles so brightly that it makes my heart hurt for another loss of Mikal.
“Rholker had sent these women to the breeding pens recently,” Abi starts.
I notice the blood across her neck and face.
“What happened?” I step forward, grabbing her.
She swallows. “We had to kill the watchers.”
“Are you okay?” I demand.
Her eyes dim.
“I—We—We got enough out.”
There are so many questions rumbling around in my skull, and I think of what Rholker had said about wanting to increase the production of humans.
I look back at the women. “Were you followed?”
She shakes her head.
“No, many guards were called away to the great hall.” She looks behind me, and an explosion breaks the glass on the front window.
A steady stream of people still flee from the palace
Good.
I will take away something more from Rholker. I will slowly bleed him dry until he begs me on his knees.
I take Abi’s and Melisa’s hands, pulling them forward.
“Let’s go. The trees are too close together for giants to walk through. We don’t have much time.”
“Wait. A few of them are pregnant, some are mourning, some are furious at life itself—I don’t know what they will think of the Enduares, but I…” Her voice cracks as we move through the trees. ”I had to get them out.”
I nod as I listen, but then the words run out, and they are waiting for me to respond.
Sucking in a deep breath, I say the words, “How many are there?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Bring them all. The Enduares are a good people; they will be safe. They will find a place to heal.”
The other women watch our progression, and I wave towards them, signaling our time to sneak off. They are silent as they all push forward.
The feeling in the air is as electric as the way before me parts. I dash forward, running ahead of the group. They follow behind as we hurry past sawmills. Past the graves of our people, the pitiful huts, and the latrines. We dodge through fields of budding trees until we reach the end gate.
My eyes widen in horror as I see a group of three giant warriors. They must’ve already heard us because they are waiting, swords drawn.
“What is this?” the one at the front calls. “Are these the ones that attacked the breeding pens?”
I step forward, out of the cover of the trees, knowing we can’t win. But damned if I won’t try.
I just hope the others aren’t all visible.
“You are mistaken. The doctor sent us into the woods to search for herbs,” I shout back. “There’s an outbreak of disease.”
One giant sneers, “Disgusting lying, bitches. Step back.”
I don’t move, but a gust of wind blows back the corner of my cloak, revealing my costume and naked legs. No, no, no. My entire body freezes.
“Wait,” the one pointing a sword at me says. Then he approaches.
My skin tingles.
I can feel him studying me, but my anxiety mounts due to the dozens of women behind me who are unarmed and unprotected. What are we against spears and axes?
What are they against your magic?
Ever since I arrived in Zlosa, I’ve burned Rholker several times. I burned the man at the party. My consciousness fumbles with the string in my chest, trying to get a firm grip.
He reaches out his spear further, using its tip to part the cloak and revealing the white pixie costume. He steps back and curses.
“You belong to the king,” he sneers. “Men, kill the others. They’re trying to escape!”
“Over my dead body,” I shout, spreading my arms wide and pulling back the magical trigger.
One single note vibrates inside of me and the white-hot glow is instant. The magic stretches as far as possible, but it’s too hard for me to hold. It richoches back and causes waves of light. They ripple through me and out into the open air.
It’s like a falling star has exploded.
Just as the giant lunges toward me, something flies through the air lodges itself firmly through his neck. He topples over with a gurgle as I hop back and inspect the arrow.
One of the women screams and starts to run toward the fence, only for an ax to cleave through the air, parting her in two.
More screaming starts, and more arrows fly through the sky.
I turn, heart pounding and see another spear being aimed at a slave. I race in front of the sharp tip before it can touch the woman. The flare of my light causes him to lose balance, and his weapon falls to the ground.
I pick it up, and, damn, it is heavy. Every muscle groans as I aim. Then, with as much force as I can muster, I charge forward and ram it into his chest.
He slides onto the wood, gaping up at me, his yellow eyes glinting in my light.
Another giant spits on me. Then his hand reaches out and grabs me, the spear falling back into the snow.
I smell his burns, but not before I’m thrown to the ground.
I slide through the thin layer of snow and ice before ramming into a tree. Bones crunch. Pain blooms through my middle, and I cry out.
The thumping of heaving feet comes from the left, and four more giants are heading over.
I try and fail to sit up. Above all sound, the crystal in my chest begins to sing.
My body goes rigid as warmth lights up my insides, mending the bone as the sound of windchimes fills my ringing ears.
I whip around, and see the riders descend from the hill.
Four glacialmaras cut through time and space with a rider leading the rank.
Teo.
The bond is no longer silent. It is filled with deathly rage as the embodiment of carnage races toward us, sword extended and eyes burning.
DON’T MOVE!Teo screams in my mind.
Behind him are two others, Niht and Lord Salo. Then there are dozens of elves riding upon a stag of enormous magnitude, bears, and even wolves. They let out a battle cry, and the ground cracks open beneath the feet of the giants.
They are swallowed up as Teo rides on. When his glacialmara flies over the gate, he stops and holds out his hands. His eyes shut, and his head is thrown back. Red magic pours from his fingertips, reaching into the earth.
Out of the split ground, three columns of lava rise up, lighting up the entire forest. One smashes through the gate, another destroys the guard’s hut, and the third swings towards the giants. They scream as their flesh is charred to a crisp.
It isn’t until trees start to sway that I start screaming for the women to run out of the gate.
“Go!” I yell until my voice is raw. I see Abi and Paoli holding hands as they shriek and evade the lava spreading across the ground. The Enduares and elves start to grab them and haul them further away from the giant’s land, leaving me behind.
I push myself onto my knees, face burning in front of the heat. An entire section of the forests collapses.
“Teo!” I scream. He doesn’t move, just continues to wield more magic than I had ever seen. For the first time, I realize how this kind of power destroyed an entire continent.
Taking another heaving breath, I reach through our bond. I’m met with a heat so intense I almost shy away. He’s a conduit for the earth itself, and it burns.
Teo, stop,I beg. Please, you’ll burn down the entire forest. There are slave pens nearby.
Finally, I feel the magic ebb away. The crack in the earth starts to close, causing the ground beneath me to rumble. I scramble out of the way as another tree falls.
When I look up, Teo is no longer floating in the air. He’s dismounted and races toward me.
“Estela.” His voice is haggard. “You”re alive.”
I don’t have a chance to speak before he snatches me up.
I’m overwhelmed by the feel of his armor and the smell of his skin.
Metal. Blood. Heat. Home.
Every part of me sings, and I collapse into him, only vaguely aware of us remounting the glacialmara.
“I knew that you would come,” I say through sobs. “You made it.”
His arm tightens around me, but the raging storm within him doesn’t calm.
I feel him slice through someone, but I close my eyes and clutch to him as my injuries continue to heal.
Everything is too much. Too much death. Too much gore.
My eyes squeeze shut to it all, and for the first time in weeks, I let someone else hold me.
After endless days of torture. Of humiliation. Of outfits and chains and leashes, of spells and literal drowning.
A ray of light.
One that I don’t deserve but that I run into nonetheless.
“We need to get the women away before any others are hurt,” I call up to him. “I—I did all I can.”
“Shh, you did enough. No more putting yourself in danger.” His hand cups the back of my neck. “We will get them all out unharmed.”
The elves’ arrows and blades cut through bone, and their armored beasts tear at flesh until the small troupe of giants is reduced to a mount of steaming death.
The Enduares and elves crowd behind the women, herding them forward. They run, and their frightened faces pull at my heart.
“Let me run with them,” I call up to my mate.
He shakes his head firmly, and his grip tightens.
“They can have you tomorrow.”
I see the tightness of the muscles around his unbound face, and he looks ahead, terrifying power leaking off of him.
“Tonight, we leave this place for good.”
You are safe. Teo’s voice also speaks into my mind as the Fuegorra sings to me with mind-cracking joy. Finally safe.
Then he raises something to his mouth—a stone, I realize—and speaks into it as it starts to glow.
“Lady Estela is with me. We’re coming home.”
My heart soars.