Chapter 44
LYRAE
Squinting through the snowy darkness, I barely made out the two tiny specks racing through the air toward us, until they were right in front of me, landing softly on the ledge, tipping their little feathered heads at me like I somehow spoke crow.
“Well, I hope you have news. You’d better go and talk to Rooke. I don’t understand…”
“They’re here.” Ryland pointed, and the little beasts took off, flying over our heads, presumably to tell their master Gravelock had arrived.
I couldn’t see the enemy yet—Ryland’s night sight was even better than my own—but I heard them coming, even over the roar of the wind. Armor rattling, the steady stomp of boots on the ground, the way the storm seemed to pause at their approach.
They sounded…like they were running.
Dark forms poured down over the hill, a mighty host blurred together into one solidified form by the blowing snow, moving down the embankment like water flowing over a waterfall, and there, interspersed with the oncoming army…
“What am I even seeing right now, Ry?”
“Holy gods, look at all the Grimbeasts. There have to be a hundred of them,” Ryland breathed. “It’s a slaughterhouse out there.”
The beasts dove into the tight formation and dragged out one Fae soldier after another, screaming as they were torn apart by each group of hungry creatures.
Flashes of magic—red fire, sizzling electricity, black smoke—broke through the haze, but for now, the entire army was focused not on us, but on their right and left flank.
I never thought there would be a day when I rooted for a Grimbeast victory, but here we were.
“Maybe they’ll all get eaten before they reach the ice,” I muttered, eyeing the set of ice-covered steps that led down to the ground. “At least the beasts will have full bellies for a while.”
We watched the fight for what seemed like an hour, first from the ramparts, then as we hustled down those steps and around the front of the castle, then from our defensive position in front of the enormous doors, bolted tightly closed.
“Well, at least they’re buying us more time,” Ryland winced as another Grimbeast’s pained yelp echoed across the flat frozen plane, carried on the shifting winds, now coming straight at us.
“Hopefully they’ve taken a few hundred soldiers with them,” I added, squinting into the cutting wind. “But I doubt we’re that lucky. They’re moving again.”
The dark horde spread out along the edge of the ice, and then, in the distance, the sound of cracking rang like distant thunder. The entire army ground to a halt, a black smudge at the edge of a band of solid white.
“Maybe they will go through,” Ryland observed coldly. “Maybe Rooke’s wrong, or the Grimbeasts killed off all those Fae who wield ice magic.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“What?” He looked completely offended. “It could happen. I mean, stranger things have happened, right?”
“Wish in one hand and shit in the other, right?” I murmured. “See which one fills up faster. Here they come.” I held my breath as the first squad of soldiers swarmed across the ice, that deep, eerie creaking echoing off Frostveil’s walls.
Hope surged in my chest when a few of them went through, their panicked shouts ringing loudly, replaced by horror when they climbed out and the broken ice reformed beneath their feet.
“Well, that was disappointing,” Ryland sighed.
“We’re up.” I shivered when I took my first, tentative step out onto the ice, despising the way it crackled beneath my boot. “Let’s hope we don’t fucking drown before we even get to draw our blades.”