Chevelle called out an order to the lines beside me, but the sound was lost as a violent wind struck the wave with a growling boom that reverberated through the room. The water had not froze, was not still, but had stopped its advance mid-crash and hung before us. It had happened so fast, it took my mind a moment to catch up.
“Push back,” I yelled, releasing only a portion of the strike I had planned to unleash. As soon as the wave fell back into a flood, I searched the line for Camren, but it was too late. Her body lay crumpled on the ground. She’d given her last breath for this retaliation. Two villagers moved to kneel beside her and I looked back just in time to see the water wash back over the temple floor, flushing at least a handful of council members with it as it crossed between the columns and out of the structure.
We surged forward then, taking the last of those council members to leave only thirty remaining above. The leaders of Grand Council.
“Dratva Sprego Drangia Rema.”
The words fell from the balcony, heavy with a vow of devastation, and I looked up to find their source. It was Elden of Longarten, the man who’d set fire to the gates of the castle during the massacre. They’d not wanted anyone to escape. They’d wanted all of us to burn.
Like my mother.
As the spell took hold of the others, fury spread through my veins like that fire so long ago. Hot, burning anger devoured every part of me until it seemed to burst, snapping any connection I had to calm, rational thought. If the ground shook again, I did not feel it. If the spell attempted to harm me, I did not know. The only thing there was, was rage.
I stared into the eyes of my mother’s killers as the stone cracked and split.
I saw Nyle, who had drowned the young sentry in his own blood.
I saw Sandon, who had slowly choked the serving girls with bay vine while chaos reigned around them.
I saw Fawn, who had opened the chests of the watchmen, a smile playing at the corner of her honey-rose lips as their insides spilled onto the castle floor.
I watched as the balcony gave way.
I watched as they fell with the floor beneath them.
A cloud of dust rose as the heart of the temple crumbled onto the floor in front of us. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, the wind whipped as though a hurricane centered among the columns. Fire and screams tore through the air in a battle so reminiscent of the massacre, my chest hurt. But the knowledge of this final revenge didn’t ease the pain. Even as I watched those who were guilty take their dying breaths, the ache only grew.
Body after body fell. What remained of the fourth line advanced, and we surrounded the last of the council leaders. A flash of light shot out, so intense it brought me from the trance of anger that had destroyed the temple. I was moving but Rider was faster. He threw himself forward to let loose an explosion of power so violent it seemed to burn my skin.
Wincing against the flare, I turned back to see it strike its target and issued an attack of my own. They were few now, but they were strong. I felt twin blows punch my chest but pushed them back before they could tear me apart. Anvil stepped in front of me just in time to catch a third, and I felt a jolt as it collided with his shoulder.
Chevelle moved forward then, as we all advanced on them, and deflected two more before Rhys and Rider moved to the front. Their skill was incredible as they pooled their energy to defend and attack. I shifted to throw another strike, but faltered when Ruby fell beside me.
I had to force myself not to reach for her, but I had seen. Her red curls had slipped loose of their binding and dropped flat, lifeless, onto the temple floor, now muddy with dust and blood, as she’d collapsed. I could not reach for her. I had to keep fighting.
My feet were frozen, afraid to so much as disturb what lay beneath me as my eyes fell again on the enemy. The ache in my chest had intensified, risen to choke me. I could not bear to think of the possibilities, could only attempt to channel the hurt and anger.
I swayed, the power roiling through me, searching for escape, and the others turned, as if sensing the change.
Energy cracked through me and I nearly lost the capacity for control. I felt myself begin to lurch forward, but somehow held fast, just long enough to discharge the shattering force. Eyes narrowed, willing myself to focus, I watched as something inside them seemed to burst.
There were no more. They had all fallen.
The realization found me keeled over, braced against my wavering knees. For one long moment, my eyes were closed. For that moment, I felt as if my world might fragment, as if my being might dissolve.
As if my insides might find their way out.
I managed a shallow breath against my tight chest and let it out without gagging. I opened my eyes to find Ruby staring up at me from the ground at my feet.
“Huh,” she coughed.
I didn’t know if the sound was impressed or stunned, but I choked out something like a laugh as I fell to my knees with relief.
Chapter Twenty-two
Summoning
I watched numbly as Grey carried Ruby away. They’d assured me she wasn’t terribly hurt, but it was obvious she wasn’t terribly okay either. Blood had smeared her face and shallow breaths had seemed to wheeze out of her.
My hands were still wet from lifting her matted curls from the muddy floor. There would be blood on them. Not hers. The lifeblood of the men and women of Camber.
I started when something brushed my arm, but quickly relaxed when the warmth of a familiar hand settled onto the small of my back. I gave Ruby one more moment before turning my gaze to Chevelle beside me.
His deep blue eyes were intense, questioning and comforting at the same time. We had done it, we had crushed this one obstacle. We had avenged my mother, the north. But it had cost us. I stared back at him, hoping to convey my answers, to offer him some comfort in return, and he reached up to place his palm against my cheek. I closed my eyes, breathed deep for the first time since the battle, and felt the last of the trembling in my limbs subside.
When I opened my eyes again, Chevelle slid his hand free, covertly brushing the damp from my cheek, and we turned to survey the damage.
River Temple lay in ruin. Half of the columns were rubble. The rest were covered in ivies as the council members had tried to elevate themselves above the flood waters. Patches of floor had dried from the winds, dust and blood leaving rust-colored stains. In a matter of weeks, the damage would look centuries old.
Several men were climbing over the remains of the balcony where it lay on the ground, searching the dead. I didn’t need to check, their faces were seared into my memory. What I was concerned about, however, was our men. From our position at the front of the line, we hadn’t been able to see who’d been injured.
I scanned the area, surprised to find that most of the wounded were already being tended. A few of the Camber warriors were limping or bloodied, but the majority of them appeared well. They had taken their place among the front, but council had targeted the townspeople anyway. I tried not to count as I watched them being carried away, but I couldn’t help it. Fourteen dead.
And Camren among them.
We approached the marble tablet where Bayrd and Emeline were cleaning up the injured.
Bayrd looked up from his work. “Lord Freya.” He dipped his head respectfully, causing his patient to flinch as he pulled against the stitches. He smirked before deference fell back in place to address Chevelle. “Excellent battle.”
I glanced at Chevelle, but he didn’t seem as surprised as I was to find them in such good spirits.
The large, leather-clad elf beside him called out as Emeline set his shoulder back in place. “There you are, good as new,” she promised. He didn’t appear to believe her, but he stood, shrugged his shoulders twice, and dipped his head toward Chevelle and me before leaving.
Emeline turned to us. “That about finishes things up here.” She glanced toward the clearing the warriors had made. “Except for the ceremony.”
Bay
rd tightened his last stitch.
“I’d like a messenger to notify the villagers. Some of them will have family here,” I said.
Emeline nodded. “Merek will go. He’s a fast rider.” She eyed the afternoon sky. “Likely he could make the rounds before dawn.”
“Thank you,” I said.
She smiled. “Lord Freya.”
Emeline brushed past me, and by the time I’d turned around, Merek was mounted and kicking a slender black stallion up to running.
All evidently taken care of, we went to find Ruby.
The task was easier than expected, because we could hear her fighting with Grey before we took the first step into the forest.
“I said I was fine,” she argued in a raspy voice. The declaration was punctuated by the sound of her slapping his ministrations away.
There was a sharp gasp as he ignored her assertions and pressed against a wound. And then a low curse from Grey as she retaliated.
We came through the trees to find Anvil sitting on a stump laughing while a grim-faced Steed attempted to hold her still.
“Touch me one more time,” she warned the both of them, “and you will pay.”
Grey held out a finger, considering, and she narrowed her gaze on him. Steed’s mouth screwed up as he waited, clearly reassessing his position.
“Ruby,” I cut in, “are you well?”
She shrugged Steed’s hands free. “Yes. Quite.”
I felt my chest ease a bit, though she still looked a little pale. I glanced at Grey who, while annoyed, no longer seemed fearful.
“Great,” I said. “Clean yourself up. We’ve got a ceremony to attend.”
She smiled sincerely at being discharged, and then smirked at Steed before turning an eyebrow up at Grey, daring him to challenge her.
Anvil laughed again.
The ceremony was completed as the sun fell beneath the horizon. We stood in full dress as the flames licked the air and trailed smoke into the twilight sky. The others would see it. The families of the council members would know we had lost as well. But there would be nothing left but ash.
As I watched the fire dance, I could not help but think of my mother. She had burned with no honor. But I could lay her to rest now. When the blaze subsided, I could let this go. This battle was over. The fire that had haunted me for so long would be gone.
I closed my eyes and breathed deep, letting the sharp scent of night flowers on the wind cut through the last of the acrid smoke. But it was only the briefest reprieve, because when I opened them again, I saw a warning flicker among the trees.
I felt my jaw tighten, but held fast. It would wait. We would see the ceremony through.
As the final ember darkened, I looked to my guard. They were still, somber, and had apparently not noticed our audience.
I waited until the first shifting boot sounded before directing Steed to ready the horses. He moved to do so without reservation, but I saw the question on the others’ faces.
“We will not ride back to Camber,” I answered. I glanced to the trees, searching for sign of any remaining fey. “There isn’t time.”
The townspeople were preparing for their own return, but I was certain they would make it to Camber safely. It was only a scout. A warning.
“Are you sure?” Ruby asked, inspecting them skeptically as they packed their weapons and armor.
I wasn’t sure.
“They are loyal,” Rhys said. “With this, you have won their trust.”
Anvil shifted, still favoring his injured shoulder. “Aye. You have them.”
I nodded, watching a limping Bayrd climb onto his horse. I could only hope they were right. But it didn’t matter. “We have no other choice.”
“Where do we ride, then?” Anvil asked.
I sighed heavily before answering. “Junnie.”
There was no doubt they were concerned by my words, but the set of my shoulders, the way my eyes scanned the trees, made it clear now was not the time to discuss it.
“I will inform the others,” Chevelle said, heading toward Emeline and her husband.
“Shall we gather the scrolls?” Ruby asked.
“No, leave those for the villagers,” I said. “They are of no use to anyone now.”
She glanced around, at a loss, and dropped her arms to swing loosely at her sides.
I forced a smile. “You fought well, Ruby.”
She was caught off guard, her expression fell blank. “Did I?”
I nodded, and then cuffed her on the back. “Next time try to take no more than your share.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Anvil’s mouth tweak up in amusement.
Steed rode up then, mounted on a fine black stallion, and tilted his head toward the waiting group of horses. “They are fresh, ready for whatever you’ve got planned.”
I resisted the urge to sigh again. “Thank you,” I said, glancing over my shoulder for Chevelle.
“Here,” he said from beside me and I noticed he was carrying a large satchel over his shoulder. He saw me looking. “The townspeople wish you well and have sent provisions so that we may travel speedily.”
My eyes narrowed on him. How would they know what we needed? But he only shrugged.
Steed called the horses to us, and as I swung onto my own, several of the townspeople bowed their respect. Among them, one form stood out.
Cold dark eyes met mine before a gloved hand raised in a gesture that vowed success. It was Camren’s son.
I tried not to dwell on that gaze as we rode, but images of the battle were all I could seem to replace it with. The cool night turned to day, but even the sun didn’t warm us. Camren had fallen. Avenging her husband, the boy’s father. Wind had saved us from the wall of water, I reminded myself, saved the boy as well. And Camren’s lifeless body lay among the rest as the fires set them to rights.
Anvil’s body took another hit as I relived the fight, and Steed’s face twisted as pain cut through him. And then Ruby’s face stared blankly up at me, the blood and mud surrounding her so dark against her pale skin. I shook myself, glancing again at her to confirm she was fine. Her cheeks flushed, her emerald eyes clear and bright.
Looking ahead once more, I saw Rhys and Rider leading and remembered their fearless efforts. It was as if I could see the power move between them, seamlessly shifting where it was needed.
“Freya.” Ruby’s voice cut my reverie and I was startled to realize how deeply I’d fallen from the others.
I blinked, and she smiled genuinely. I was pretty sure she was laughing at me. The sky was overcast, hiding what I estimated to be a noon sun. “Yes, Ruby?”
“Are you going to tell us where we’re going?” she whispered.
“We have to find Junnie.”
She waited. She already knew that, she wanted to know why, and what I’d meant by we had no time and no other choice.
I couldn’t stop myself from glancing around before answering. “We may have a slight problem,” I said.
Ruby’s brows shifted in a “what’s new” motion.
I watched Chevelle as I continued, and it dawned on me that he didn’t seem as anxious or surprised by my revelation. I guessed he’d seen the visitor as well. “There was a scout at the ceremony. A fire sprite, I think.”
Ruby’s nose crinkled. “Are you sure? Maybe it was just drawn to the action.”
I shook my head. “No. It was a warning.”
“But I thought you sent a message to Veil,” she said.
“I did.” I met her gaze evenly. “That’s why we have to find Junnie.”
Her brows drew together as she opened her mouth for another question, but a sudden call stopped her short.
It was the wolves.
Chapter Twenty-three
Unexpected
Suddenly, the rhythmic thump of our horses’ hooves turned to the hammering of so many drums as they pounded the dirt in a full run. The wind caught my cloak to whip behind me and I held fast, closing my eyes to find the wo
lves. My mind brushed theirs before reaching a falcon tucked within the cover of a tall pine near them.
They were running.
I swung wide, searching for their prey, then behind, for an attacker. When I realized they weren’t being pursued but coming for us, the falcon swooped down in front of them so they would know I’d found them. But instead of stopping to wait for us, they turned to run in the opposite direction. I opened my eyes.
I called out, “West,” and the others adjusted their course without slowing. We ran through the forest, dodging brush and low limbs, and then into another clearing before we began to catch them.
“What is it?” Chevelle yelled.
I shook my head. “I don’t know. They are alone.”
And then we saw the smoke.
“There,” Rider shouted as his horse narrowly avoided a thin oak.
We broke into a short clearing in time to see Finn and Keaton rushing through the trees ahead. At the next clearing, we saw why.
A large circle of ash covered the ground before us. Smoldering stumps and scattered embers were all that remained of a copse of what had been, from the smell, maple trees. It had burned fiercely, gone barely before we’d seen the smoke. The section of trees had been destroyed cleanly, nothing around it was disturbed, but the fire obviously wasn’t snuffed because another copse was already burning.
I scanned the scene as we ran, as we kicked up gray dust that still held heat, and saw two more patches of ash lay to the north. Understanding was slow to come. Someone was burning the forest in some fragmented, systematic way. Just south of us, two more pillars of smoke rose, but Finn and Keaton took us north of the older fires.
The underbrush became dense, and the horses struggled through briars and thickets. They’d been fresh when we’d left the temple, but they were nearly finished now, drawing deep, purring breaths as sweat drenched their overworked bodies. Thunder rumbled in the distance and I glanced up at the darkening sky.
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