25
The sun had set, escaping below the horizon and cloaking Prins in darkness, lit only by the flames of the buildings as they burned relentlessly. I gripped Stormslayer tightly in my fist as Fletcher advanced, a smirk across his lips. I whirled, searching the smoke and flames for any sign of Nik or Puck, but they had already jumped into the battle.
My breath caught in my throat as I stood my ground. I blinked away the tears from the smoke and dipped into my well of magic to be sure it was ready. There was no time to think about whether my magic would escape my control again or not.
This was life or death, and I would not die here today.
“Funny seeing you here,” Fletcher called out over the sound of clashing blades and gurgling screams.
“How did you find us?” My voice was almost swallowed by the sounds of the fighting, but it didn’t waver.
“Our dear friend Corian. You all but gave yourself away in that dream, Diana. You never did understand we are smarter than you, always one step ahead. If you surrender now…I’ll take you and your friends back to The Stone Palace and leave the rest of your resistance alone.” Fletcher laughed, as if our resistance was a force so meek he could crush it beneath his boot.
“And what will you do with us?” I asked, raising Stormslayer between us to keep him at a safe distance.
Fletcher’s eyes moved to the blade, then met my gaze again with a smile.
“You don’t think you could take me on, do you?” He laughed, taking another step forwards. “If you surrender, only you will face Donika’s wrath.”
“I don’t believe you.” I swallowed hard, holding his gaze. My grip on the dagger was tight despite the sweat greasing my palms.
“It doesn’t matter either way. Either you die here, along with everyone else, or you die in the Stormvault. Your choice.”
“Not much of a choice at all, is it?” I asked, dipping into my magic and allowing it to flow through my fingers. “I am a Stormshade of the Kotova bloodline, and you cannot break me.”
I made the first move, bringing my dagger down in an arc towards Fletcher’s face. His expression lit with surprise, but he managed to duck and avoid my advance. He hadn’t been expecting me to make the first move.
Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I remembered everything Warrick and Nik had taught me. Stay low. Use my speed and my size to my advantage. Don’t let him back me into a corner.
Fletcher brought his blade around and I blocked his forearm with mine, my teeth clashing at the force with which we collided. The elbow of his other arm shot out and hit the side of my head hard and my vision swam. Before I took a step back, I brought Stormslayer up and caught his jacket with the blade, tearing it open.
Fletcher’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as he sliced at me again. This time I whirled, kicking at the back of his knees with my leg to sweep his feet out from under him.
Was I going to have to kill him?
Was I capable of that?
Fletcher’s eyes were cold as he hit the ground on his back, the wind knocking from his lungs. He rolled quickly, finding his footing effortlessly. He was clearly a seasoned soldier. We circled each other as the battle raged on around us, my eyes flicking to the higher ground to see if Donika watched.
Was she here, or had she simply sent her army to slaughter us all?
Fletcher advanced quickly, his blade slicing my thigh before I had a chance to block, and a scream tore from my throat. The blade cut deep, blood dripping onto the cold ground. I held my hand to my thigh, the blood oozing around it and through my fingertips.
A smirk filled with malice graced Fletcher’s lips as we circled once more.
I needed to heal myself. I needed to find Liss.
I would have to end this…I had no other choice. The only way I could keep from killing him was to go with him willingly…and that was not an option.
I had survived Donika’s torture in the Stormvault.
I had survived the loss of both my mother and my father.
I had survived Nik’s betrayal.
I would survive this, too.
I set my chin, resolute. I didn’t want to be responsible for killing anyone in this war, but there was no way I would make it out without getting my hands bloody. Fletcher would either kill me or bring me back to Donika.
It was kill or be killed…and I was a survivor. A fighter.
I was the rightful heir to the throne of Istmere, and I would not fall in battle today.
I spun, my auburn hair cascading around me as I kicked Fletcher in the side, my blade slicing through his chest as he staggered back. I grunted as I kept coming without mercy. I was lucky he hadn’t chosen to wear armor today, whether it be arrogance or stupidity, I was thankful. I came at him again.
I kicked out once more, pushing him back. Stormslayer sang through the air and sliced his arm, Fletcher pulling back with a hiss. I pushed him back again.
Again.
Again.
A wild expression clouded Fletcher’s features as he fell, his dagger sliding away from him into the rubble of what had once been the safe house. His eyes were wide as I held Stormslayer over my head with both hands, poised to bring it down.
One moment my vision was filled with smoke and ash, Fletcher’s body kneeling in the rubble before me. In the next, a vision passed before my eyes.
Donika standing before my mother, her sword poised over her body. Her eyes were dark, bottomless. She smirked, bringing the sword down with all her strength.
“Diana!”
Nik’s voice cut across the battle and my eyes came back into focus, searching for him. My grip on the dagger relaxed ever so slightly. Nik was racing towards me, soot and dirt smeared across his face, his blue eyes wild and terrified. He cut down a Nightshade soldier in his path with nothing but a thrust of his sword as he pushed through the crowd of bodies.
In the moment I had glanced away, the moment the vision had flashed before my eyes, Fletcher had found his feet again.
And his sword hand was empty.
He looked at me with…was that pity? His eyes almost… sad. No, that wasn’t right. My brow creased in confusion. I didn’t understand.
Not until I felt the searing pain in my chest where his dagger was buried.
My mouth fell open as my arms dropped to my sides, Stormslayer clanging against the ground as it fell from my grip. Fletcher’s dagger was buried in my left shoulder, so close to my heart. My eyes snapped up to his, and I shrunk back at his expression, his teeth bared in an angry snarl. Hot blood pooled against the material of my tunic. I reached up and grabbed the dagger with both hands, sliding it free as I ground my teeth against the pain.
The dagger tumbled to the ground as I fell to my knees, a cloud of soot whirling through the air around me.
“Diana!”
Nik’s voice was in my ears again, but my vision swam before me.
I couldn’t find him.
I couldn’t see anything.
I blinked back the tears that clouded my vision and Fletcher peered down at me as my hand went to my chest to stop the bleeding.
I could hear another voice, calling out my name, but I couldn’t place it. I heard it over and over as it came closer, and Fletcher bent to pick up a sword among the rubble.
Where was Tess? Puck?
I wanted to close my eyes, the pull so strong that I fell forwards, barely catching myself with my other hand. I pressed against my chest firmly, but the blood wouldn’t stop…it just kept coming. It dripped onto the stone beneath me, and I startled as it began to pool there.
I was dying.
I reached into the core of my magic, needing it desperately in this moment, and felt it whisper back softly.
It was weak.
The sound of clashing swords rang loudly in my ears as a body appeared before me, parrying Fletcher’s attack. I opened my mouth to cough, and blood splattered the cobblestones before me.
I needed to heal.
I needed my magic, and I needed it now.
“Diana! Fuck, Diana. No, no, no…” Nik had found me, his hands shaking as he pulled me against him.
The orange flames danced in the reflection of Nik’s eyes as he knelt before me. He pressed his palm to my chest wound much harder than I had the strength for. His lips moved in a spell, but I could barely hear the words.
“Listen to me, Diana. Stay with me. I need you to stay with me. Baby, please.”
His face was blurry, but I could see the utter terror in his piercing blue gaze. The hard set of his mouth. His brow creased with effort as he spoke the spell again and again, swearing under his breath.
If Nik was here with me…who was fighting Fletcher?
As my eyes focused on the fight over Nik’s shoulder, a guttural scream tore forth as Fletcher’s sword hit home. It sliced through the stomach of the witch before him, all the way to the hilt.
The sword looked odd protruding from his back as the witch fell to his knees, red staining his mouth as he gurgled blood. He sank to the rubble in a lifeless heap, his face turning towards me as he fell. There was sorrow in his eyes right before they glassed over.
He took one final breath, then his body was still.
Tyr.
Tyr had fought Fletcher to protect me, to protect all of us, and he had paid the ultimate price.
Tyr was dead.