Chapter 16

16

D amon

It’s been three days since the general spoke with me. Three long days, to be exact. I’m beginning to question if I can trust him.

Perhaps it was a ploy all along to keep me compliant and willing. It’s beginning to feel like it.

I must be seen taking you to the Ice Court…to her, but you will escape along the way. I will make sure of it.

His words keep playing over and over in my mind. He promised me more information on Snow. More on her dark magic, on how she’s controlling the fae. He hasn’t summoned me. Hasn’t so much as looked at me for three long days. Meanwhile, we are covering good ground every day.

The temperatures are dropping. The rain has turned to sleet. The landscape is more desolate than ever. The sky is murkier than ever, too. The mountains that lead to my home are before us. Soon, we will be in high country.

Cyrano is hunched over his horse; he looks like he might fall off at any moment. The large oilskin one of the fae gave him hangs on his frame. We had to leave the camels behind yesterday, as this is not suitable terrain for them. It’s just going to get worse the higher we climb. The sleet will turn to snow. Temperatures will soon plummet. I feel my blood start to quicken with magic. I feel my well start to fill with every raindrop that hits my face. It isn’t much, but it’s something.

Kyrie is somewhere up ahead. I hope she is warm and dry. They like to separate us during the day. We share a tent at night but are closely watched at all times. I can’t even take a piss without four guards accompanying me. It’s infuriating.

Cyrano is ever-present but has barely said two words since his whipping. If he wasn’t such a prick, I might be inclined to feel sorry for him. The way I see it, he brought it on himself. The silence has been welcome.

He can be thankful that the general went easy on him. There were only a few stripes of blood on his tunic. Still, he is suffering from the pain. He moans at night and winces whenever he moves too abruptly. We’re only three days’ ride away from the Ice Court. Unless the general calls for me tonight, I’m going to start plotting our escape. There is no other option. If we are taken to the Ice Court, all will be lost.

Aside from the horse’s hooves thudding on the ground and the odd snort, we ride in relative silence. A new volley of sleet starts to fall, but we forge on. Although I feel invigorated, my hands are freezing on the reins.

I try to catch a glimpse of Kyrie. I wish I could go check on her, but I know what will happen if I take so much as one step out of formation. I’ll have several spears aimed at my heart in a second. We ride on, steam rising from our horses’ flanks as temperatures drop further.

My hair starts to cling to my face.

There is a strange whistling sound, followed by a thud. It’s a sound I’ve heard before but can’t place immediately. I frown. It happens again, and the penny drops.

Arrows finding their mark.

Just as I think it, two guards topple from their horses.

“We’re under attack!” someone shouts.

“They’re shooting from both sides!” someone else yells.

I kick my horse forward. I need to get to Kyrie. Shadows start to form around us. They’re nowhere near as thick as they were in the tent. I look up. There isn’t enough light to cast shadows, and therefore, the shadowfae are not as powerful as they usually would be. The general used the light from the blazing fire to cast a dark shadow to bolster his magic. That isn’t possible in the waning light. This attack has been well-timed.

There are more whistles; several arrows fall away, thwarted by shadows, while others find their mark and more fae fall.

I maneuver between horses and screaming fae, making my way to Kyrie, who has ducked down on her horse, trying not to be hit in the crossfire.

The general is shouting orders to his men, who are pulling up their horses and turning to protect themselves and to fight.

There are screams from the enemy as they ride toward us, horse hooves thundering, and battle cries rending the air all around us.

“It’s the bloodfae,” the general shouts. “They want the icefae. We need to fight. Draw your weapons. Stand your ground and fight!” he screams.

They’re after me.

They want the bounty on my head, and all I can think about is ensuring Kyrie’s safety. Nothing else matters. I would never forgive myself if she were to be killed in the crossfire.

Another guard falls as I pass, an arrow jutting from his eye. The shadowfae form a circle; they’re using their shadows as a shield. All of them are working together to bolster their waning magic.

I’m stuck between their horses when swords start to clang together. We are surrounded by blood drinkers. Their armor is also bronze and silver, but their crests are different from those of the shadowfae. They don’t wear plumed helmets. Some of their heads are bare; others have plain silver helmets.

I jump from my horse, squeezing between the beasts, elbowing my way through. Kyrie is just ahead. She’s still on her horse, crouching low on its back.

An arrow flies by, grazing her shoulder, and Kyrie’s horse rears up in alarm as she screams, clinging onto it for dear life. When it lands back down, I grab her and pull her from the beast, shielding her with my body as more arrows rain down around us.

“How bad is it?” I ask her.

“Just a graze.” The clash of steel and cries of battle fill the air around us.

“We need to move!” I shout over the chaos.

She nods.

But first, we need to arm ourselves. Arrows continue to fly, the clash of swords growing louder as the battle rages on. I pick up a discarded sword, ready to defend us against the bloodfae closing in.

Kyrie tries to do the same, but the blade is too heavy for her to hoist, so she settles on a dagger pulled from a nearby corpse.

I push her behind me as one of the bloodfae comes at me with a yell. His face is red, his eyes wild. The bloodfae thrusts his sword toward me, aiming for my heart. I block him easily. The clash of metal reverberates in my ears and up my arm.

“Don’t kill him!” another of the bloodfae shouts. “That’s our target. We have to take him alive.”

I lock eyes with the bloodfae, his sneer twisting into a grin that has my blood boiling. He feints to the left and then lunges toward my right side. I sidestep, narrowly avoiding the blade that slices through the air where I stood a moment ago. Designed to maim but not to kill.

Kyrie screams from behind me. I turn and see a fae has her in a hold. Her dagger is on the ground. I’m about to launch an attack when she knees him in the groin. The male chokes out a groan, falling to the ground.

I turn back just in time to parry another blow. I’m out of practice but starting to get back into the rhythm of battle.

On the next block, I kick out at my opponent’s knee. There is a snapping noise. He screams, but it is quickly cut off when I remove his head from his shoulders with one swift sweep of my blade.

I dispatch the fae at Kyrie’s feet; he was still holding his balls. I kill another male who is trying to get at Kyrie. Both his arms have been slashed open. Kyrie has the dagger clutched in her hand. It’s dripping with blood.

Pride swells in me. Kyrie has always been a fighter. She’s always been far stronger than she gives herself credit for.

I grab her hand, and we run toward a cluster of rocks that offers some semblance of shelter. Arrows zip past us, clattering against the stone as we huddle behind it, trying to catch our breath.

“Did that fae say they were after you?” she asks me as she pants hard.

“We have to get to safety.” I use my body to shield her. “Then we’ll talk, I promise.”

“What are you keeping from me?”

I’m sneaking a look over the rocks. “Curse the gods,” I growl, ignoring her question. Now is not the time for such explanations. “I have to help Cyrano.”

“No…don’t…please.” She grabs my arm.

“He’s going to be killed.” I look over at where the male in question is crawling along the ground. It’s only a matter of time before someone notices him and runs him through or captures him. Even worse, he could get trampled underfoot by one of the horses.

Several bloodfae are drinking from the shadowfae, blood streaming down their chins and throats.

A shadowfae stabs one of them before beheading him. The dead fae falls on top of Cyrano, who screams, drawing the attention of two bloodfae.

“Stay here,” I instruct Kyrie. I’m loathe to leave her, but I can’t leave Cyrano to his fate, either. It doesn’t matter that he would betray me at the drop of a hat. That he hates me. I have to do the right thing. It’s how I am wired. It’s who I am.

“Please,” Kyrie begs. “Be careful,” she tells me when I turn back to her. Then she kisses me. It’s so unexpected in the middle of all the blood and chaos that for a few seconds, I don’t react at all. Then I snap out of it and kiss her back, pressing my lips to hers, breathing her in for just a moment. Pulling her flush against me and closing my eyes.

Cyrano screams again, breaking the moment. In the next instant, I am on my feet and running to save him.