30. Tamsyn

30

Tamsyn

W AIT HERE." FELL'S WORDS RANG IN THE AIR, THE TERSE command fading away along with the sound of his footsteps as he rushed from the room.

Did that ever work? Perhaps some people stayed behind when they were told, but not me. I had to know. I had to see for myself, and staring out my tower window was not what I had in mind.

What if it was another dragon?

Heart racing, I ran from the chamber and down into the main hall. Fell was nowhere in sight. It was chaos, packed tight with bodies and animals seeking shelter from whatever was coming.

I pushed through, past people swarming in the opposite direction, desperate for refuge within the walls of the fortress. Amid the cries and the sobs, a single panicked word rose up on the air again and again and again. Like an endless, repeating wave. Dragon. Dragon. Dragon.

Could it be?

I broke into the courtyard, into the frigid day, my gaze immediately shooting to the skies. Clouds and fog. Fog and clouds. Just the usual. No winged brethren anywhere in sight.

Several fleeing bodies jostled me, nearly knocking me off my feet. Regaining my balance, I rotated in a swift circle, dodging a goat as I peered up and spotted warriors assembling along the battlements. I noticed several of them pointed to something in the distance. Something unknown and out of my range of vision.

Determined to see for myself, I raced toward the nearest tower, pushing through the crowd. I was almost there when I was met by a wolf. Or a dog, I supposed, but there was definitely some wolf blood mixed in there. The beast lunged for me, snarling and snapping its jaws, foaming at the mouth, going feral at the sight of me. I fell back on the ground, scurrying to get out of the way, crying out as rushing feet slammed down on my hands, crunching bone, grinding my knuckles.

The owner of the wolf-dog wrapped an arm around its furry neck, pulling desperately, hauling the beast back even as the man lifted wide, bewildered eyes to me. Clearly the beast wasn't known for violence.

But then the beast has never known you.

Shaking my head, I clambered back up onto my feet. Cradling my wounded hands close to my chest, I told myself what I knew to be true: they would heal.

I took the winding stairs to the top of the tower. It was just as crowded up on the wall as it was in the courtyard. Warriors were everywhere, taking position, archers readying their bows. No one spared me a glance. I was a ghost, free to look, free to move about with no one paying me any mind.

I spotted Fell down along the wall, directly over the gatehouse, dead center, staring out from the fortress with a sharp gaze. He stood with his legs braced wide, as though at the bow of a ship.

He propped his hands on the edge of the wall, looking across the Borg, gazing out into the distance, at the snow-covered horizon, as though he alone had the power to see what others could not. As though he alone knew what was coming.

Frowning, I followed the direction of his gaze. And saw nothing.

Nothing beyond mist-shrouded hills and the not-so-distant mountains. I waited. We all waited, peering into the opaque air.

The Borg quieted, falling into an eerie silence. As though the world was holding its breath. The only sound was that of the whistling wind and settling fog.

And then I heard it. Another sound. A steady beat. A staccato clomping. Even and unvarying and in perfect rhythm. Like a heartbeat.

We heard them long before we could see them. Long before they crested the rise, the silver of their armor glinting like mirrors. Soldiers. A large contingent of cavalry. Hundreds and hundreds of riders.

An army was marching on the Borg.

I DIDN'T THINK it could get any quieter, but the sight of that army silenced even the wind.

The fog hushed and held still, simply thickening, spreading, growing denser, almost as though it were a living, breathing thing intent on taking over the land, covering everything, devouring everything.

The air grew so thick, it gobbled that army up, wiping it from sight. Presumably wiping us from sight, too. It was still out there. I felt it, that force of soldiers, a beast looking for its next meal, but we could no longer see it. Just as it could no longer see us.

Moments ticked by, rolling into minutes, and then more minutes and then more.

Fell's warriors began to shift restlessly on the battlements.

We could hear them still marching, the clop of hooves falling in steady rhythm, unseen in the impenetrable fog.

We listened, tense, on edge, the army close now, winding its way like a snake through the grass, out of sight but there, sliding closer through the Borg, finally stopping at our gates.

They emerged into view, finally close enough to see again, the faces of every soldier obscured beneath the visors of their helmets, only their eyes visible.

Realization flashed through me. I knew who they were. I identified the cut of their armor, the red and blue pennants, the royal coat of arms, and the markings on their shields.

I searched for and found him, recognizing him riding front and center. His visor was already lifted, and my heart leapt at the sight of those familiar brown eyes across the distance. I saw him, but he had not spotted me. His gaze was elsewhere, on the Beast of the Borderlands.

Stig brandished his sword in the air, his voice lifting in challenge: "I've come for Dryhten's head!"

My gaze swung down the length of the wall to Fell.

Fell's hands gripped the edge of the wall tighter. He grinned. Actually smiled, lips peeling back from his teeth in a snarl. He loved this, I realized. Fighting. Battle. This was his element. What he knew. What he did well.

He leaned down, his voice booming through the air: "You've come to the right place, then."

Stig pointed his sword directly at Fell up on the wall. "We received your message!"

"And you didn't care for it, I see," Fell replied sarcastically. "I didn't quite care for it either, but I didn't think you would show up here demanding my head."

"You are a liar and you will pay, Dryhten. I'm here to see to that."

I scanned the army spread out before me in disbelief. Stig had led these soldiers all this way? They must have marched ceaselessly for the past three weeks.

"You and the army you brought with you, eh?" Fell called back down. Laughter rippled through his warriors.

Stig gestured behind him. "This army is here to see to the peaceful transition of power once I gut you and put your head on a pike and take control of the Borderlands."

This was met with several boos and jeers from the wall.

Fell held up both arms, bobbing his hands and gesturing for his warriors to be silent. It took several moments for the warriors to quiet down.

"I don't think my warriors are in support of that, Captain." Fell gave a mocking shrug of regret.

Stig continued, "You thought we would believe you. Dragon, indeed," he scoffed. "You murdered her, and I'm here to make sure you die for it."

I flinched. Murdered her?

Murdered... me ?

He was talking about me?

Clearly, he had received Fell's message that I was taken or killed by a dragon and had reached his own conclusions. Was this what my family thought? My parents? My sisters? Did they all believe me dead?

"Stig!" I shouted down, waving an arm. "What are you doing?"

Stig's gaze whipped to me. His eyes widened. "Tamsyn!"

"What are you doing?" I repeated, shaking my head in disapproval. I waved at the army behind him. "You brought an army?"

He didn't take his eyes off me, merely called my name again, as though struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. "Tamsyn!"

I sighed. "Yes. It is me. We have established that. Now, what are you doing here?"

His eyes narrowed. His shoulders squared. "I've come for you. To avenge you."

I shook my head. "Well, as you can see, I am not dead."

Stig's gaze then flew to Fell. "He was telling the truth?" He said the words as though they were the most incredulous, impossible, unbelievable thing.

My gaze followed Stig to Fell.

My husband shrugged and nodded. "So you can see you made this long journey for nothing. Now why don't you turn around and go back home?"

I exhaled an exasperated breath. Men.

"Fell," I chided, sending him a glare before looking down to Stig and his waiting army. "Open the gate!"

THERE WAS NO force on earth that was going to keep me from Stig's arms.

Yes, he had just brought an army to the gates of the Borg with the intention of putting my husband's head on a pike, but he had done it for me. And he was my best friend. Family. It was like having a little bit of home again, a little bit of the old normal. And I couldn't help but long for the familiar comfort of that when life was anything but normal these days.

The three of us gathered in Fell's personal library.

I felt my husband's gaze on the back of me as Stig folded me in his arms, his warm breath fluttering my hair. I stepped away, eventually, and sent Fell a wary look.

His face was impassive, staring at me with eyes as unreadable as stone. And yet I felt the inexplicable impulse to apologize. For what? Hugging a friend? I lifted my chin a notch, trying to look confident, calm. Casual.

The two men stared hard at each other, saying nothing, making no move. They were two figures, frozen in place.

I cleared my throat. Evidently I was the one who was going to have to cross that invisible line in the sand... be the one to speak first and bring these two men together. "Well. Obviously there has been a misunderstanding here."

"Obviously," Fell agreed, the word clipped.

"We received your message—" Stig started.

"And decided to march north in full armament," Fell cut in.

Stig shrugged as though that were a minor thing and not at all a point of offense. "I was expected to take that message seriously?"

Fell took one menacing step closer to Stig, his voice low and dark as he said, "Hear me now. There is a dragon. At least one. Alive and well and out there, threatening us all." He pointed to me, and I stifled a flinch. "It took Tamsyn. Ask her."

Stig looked to me for confirmation, as though the sight of me standing before him— not dead —wasn't evidence enough.

"Yes." I nodded, my throat so thick the word was little more than a croak. "There really is a... dragon."

"Well." Stig settled back on his heels with a sigh. "This changes things."

Frost flashed in Fell's pale gray eyes. "Does it? No longer want my head on a pike now, do you?" His gaze shot to me. "You almost seem disappointed... like you wish she was dead." My husband smirked at Stig then.

Stig's face flushed with anger. He inhaled deeply, the breath lift ing his chest. "You could never understand the depth of my feelings for her, you heartless bastard."

"I'll remember that next time I'm in bed with her."

Stig lunged for him with a strangled sound.

Fell surged forward to meet him.

I got between the two men before they could kill each other.

"Enough! You are behaving like little boys!" I flattened a hand on each of their heaving chests, glaring back and forth between them. "We are on the same side."

As soon as the words left me, I felt awash in misery. Whether they realized it or not, they were on the same side.

I was on the side of something else.