Chapter 55
I’m walking through the streets of Isthyr, fully aware of the non-wolf-shaped shadow that is trailing us.
‘Rose,’ Kyor whispers, ‘maybe pride needs to be set aside on this one.’
He’s right, of course he is, but it still goes against every instinct in my body to turn around and face the Torailian who insists on calling me Skakka. I do it regardless.
‘You say you’ll do whatever I ask of you, right?’ I look Aulia in her garnet eyes as I speak.
She nods, eager for instructions.
‘Then you protect Isthyr. Don’t worry about me, just protect Isthyr.’ I stop as another thought enters my mind. ‘The dagger, you knew of the dagger. How?’
‘It is in the La—’
‘Of course, the fucking prophecy.’ I grit my teeth.
‘The dagger can’t get into Morathkian hands.
If I lose tonight, if I … I…’ I can’t bring myself to say the word.
‘They must not get it. If it looks like that’s going to happen, you take it from me and get it to my friend Caroline.
The one from the Eastern Isles. You understand? ’
‘You want me to give one of the blades of Vindrun to a scribe?’ she asks incredulously.
I don’t know how she knows Caroline is a scribe other than to assume she’s been doing her due diligence on us since she arrived, and right now I don’t care.
‘Yes, you get it to her and no one else.’
‘I understand.’
‘I need you to swear. Swear on this prophecy of yours.’
The request causes the Torailian’s eyes to narrow substantially, but she nods all the same.
‘As you wish, Skakka. I will leave half my warriors here to protect Isthyr as you command. Once I have gathered the others, we will follow you up to the pyrrhic.’
‘Good,’ I say, grateful that we have the slightest form of a plan falling into place. Even if the chance of Isthyr getting through this unscathed is nearly impossible, we’re not going to go down without a fight.
As Aulia slips off, Kyor and I continue towards the mountains, but we’ve barely made it another ten feet when Toren launches himself towards us.
‘No one has seen Ranveeg,’ he says, his tone shaken. ‘But she was on the front line and not expected back until today. It doesn’t mean anything is amiss.’
He’s right, it doesn’t, but it doesn’t feel good either.
‘Toren, I need you to get fighters in place down here, working with the Torailians. Tell them the best places to launch an ambush and get Uzra and all the knights who are willing to fight up on the pyrrhic with me. They must be willing, you understand. No one needs to fight if they don’t want to.’
He nods. ‘They will all stand beside you, Princess.’
‘Only if they want to,’ I insist. ‘Issen, Torailian, or Morathkian … I don’t care who I have on my side, as long as they choose to be there.’
‘Certainly,’ he replies before scurrying away.
‘You know that type of magnanimity is only going to make them want to fight for you more, not less, Thorn,’ Kyor says, amused.
‘It’s not magnanimity,’ I tell him. ‘I’m not letting anyone stand by my side unless they choose to be there. They’ll fight a lot harder that way.’
‘Well, look who takes after their gramps.’ He smiles fleetingly as he meets my gaze.
‘Guess it’s time to tell Mila and her men where she can shove this cursed dagger of hers,’ he says.
‘It is indeed,’ I say with grim satisfaction. I’m more than ready to tell Mila where to go, and I half hope that she’s there on the other side of the pyrrhic with the men, putting herself in the firing line, but I doubt it.
I remember all too clearly the agony she inflicted on me when she stripped the powers from my family and me. Kay was barely old enough at the time to understand what was happening. Yeah, she deserves whatever comes her way.
‘Princess, where do you need me?’ I spin around, unable to hide my shock at the person I find standing there.
‘Ylva?’
‘Yes, Your Highness. I am ready to fight.’
My mouth bobs open, but I’m not sure how to reply. I’ve grown fond of the Issen over my time here, but I’ve never once seen her with so much as a dagger in her hand. A book, yes. But not a weapon.
‘Perhaps you will be best staying back here, aiding Caroline and Benny.’
A wry smile twists her lips before she steps backward. A flick of her wrists and her hands are full. Not with daggers or swords, but with something far more impressive.
Two flails.
The flails are carved entirely from ice.
Each has a smooth cylindrical handle that becomes ridged at the centre for a secure grip before tapering back to a rounded pommel.
From the end hangs a chain of perfectly formed ice links, each loop identical to the last. The chains end in spherical heads the size of a man's skull, their frozen surfaces bristling with vicious, needle-sharp spikes.
‘Ice flails.’ Kyor lets out a loud whistle. ‘Nice.’
‘Yes, and I use them well,’ Ylva replies. ‘Now tell me, Princess, where do you want me?’
‘The pyrrhic,’ I say with certainty. ‘We need you at the pyrrhic. If you’re willing?’
‘Willing and ready. I will find others too,’ she adds before dipping her head, turning, and striding away.
Kyor and I walk the rest of the way in silence – a silence that only grows more impenetrable as we reach the ravine.
For the first part, Kyor and I continue the climb side by side, our hands linked.
When it’s no longer safe to do so, we move in single file with Fen slipping out ahead.
We are a little over halfway when a cluster of guards heads down towards us.
One I recognise – Astrid – is at the front of the group.
‘Where are you going?’ I ask her. ‘Why are you retreating?’
‘We are not retreating, Princess. General Ranveeg came and said they’re putting on a special shift. Men coming up from the front line. They’ll be coming through the illusion any minute now.’
Ranveeg.
That cements it. Traitorous bitch!
Kyor and I exchange grim glances. ‘How many of you remained behind?’ I question urgently. ‘How many guards are up there?’
‘Like I said, Ranveeg told us they will be coming through the pyrrhic from the other side any minute.’
It feels as though my insides have curdled. I pray I’ve got the wrong end of the stick.
‘Is this normal?’ I ask her. ‘Guards coming from the other side?’
She chews on the inside of her cheek. ‘It is not something I have heard of before,’ she admits.
‘Fuck!’ I curse.
Kyor’s feelings are evident in the lightning that flashes and the thunder that cracks across the sky, making the ledge beneath us rumble. The guards stare at him, wide-eyed.
‘Turn around, now!’ I order the soldiers. ‘Get back up there, NOW!’
Another guard steps forward, confusion flickering across his face. ‘General Ranveeg—’
‘General Ranveeg is a fucking traitor! She’s put every person in Isthyr at risk!’
The guards blink slowly, as if I’m speaking a language they’ve never heard before.
‘Isthyr is under attack! Do you understand, Astrid?’ I don’t mean to yell, but the guard nods rapidly.
‘Yes, Princess.’
‘Then get back up there now, and if you see Ranveeg, you do whatever it takes to apprehend her.’
We don’t walk. We race.
The time we thought we had is gone. The end is now.
‘So you got a plan?’ Kyor asks as we frantically climb.
‘Yes,’ I say firmly. ‘I’m planning on letting my wolf dine on fresh trachea and epiglottis tonight.’
Kyor slows his pace just the tiniest fraction to glance at me.
‘Is that how you and Fen speak to one another?’
‘Mostly,’ I admit.
He grins. ‘Then maybe I’m grateful to stick to feelings and images.’
I’m more than a little impressed with the fitness of the Issen as they sprint up the ravine, their feet solid on the slippery rock.
‘Kyor, if it looks like we’re going to lose this, you need to blow the ledge,’ I tell him, rapidly taking in our surroundings. ‘Isthyr’s still protected by the mountain, and if the soldiers can’t get down, it’ll give the people a chance to escape. Use your lightning and destroy it.’
‘Of course, if that’s what you want me to do.’
‘I do,’ I reply, our eyes catching for a millisecond. ‘If it comes to it, you blow it.’
‘Understood.’
We’re only a minute from the top when I hear Astrid, her voice unnaturally loud. ‘General Ranveeg, where is the battalion you said would arrive?’
‘You’ve barely given them a minute,’ she says too smoothly. The way she lies is enough to cause a sting of bile at the back of my throat.
‘But the pyrrhic was left unguarded.’
‘I’m here, Astrid. You think I would let the city be left at risk?’
‘I … I…’ She glances back at the exact moment I come into view.
‘Yes,’ I answer for Astrid. ‘I think that’s exactly what you’d do.’
A smile curls the corners of her mouth.
‘Princess, how unexpected to see you here. Are you taking a trip outside the pyrrhic, or is there perhaps another reason you are here?’ Her gaze drops to the dagger sheathed at my hip.
‘We know it’s you, Ranveeg. We know you’re the traitor who showed the Morathkians the way through the pyrrhic.’
A gasp rattles from the guards, yet the general only smiles.
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Admit it now and I’ll have Astrid take you to the fengsel and tell the king you showed remorse.’
‘Like I said, I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She smirks.
‘In that case, I would like you to go down with Astrid. Take it as an order from your princess.’
I glance at Astrid and the guard requires no more direction, instantly moving towards Ranveeg. But before she’s managed half a step, the general snarls.
She spins around, grabbing Astrid and pulling her against her chest, pressing a freshly materialised ice dagger against the guard’s throat.
‘I am not going anywhere,’ she hisses.
Astrid’s eyes lock on mine, not a hint of fear shining in them. Just calmness – calmness I wish I could reciprocate, but my pulse is currently pounding hard enough to batter my ears.
‘Think about what you’re doing, General,’ I say quietly.
Ranveeg is turning in a circle, taking it all in, but she’s not the only one moving. The guards shift too, monitoring her every move, while Kyor has slipped from my side.
I, however, stay exactly where I am.