Chapter 24

Dravyn

It was like a candle being snuffed out by a sudden gust of wind—one moment I felt Karys's magic burning more fiercely than it had all evening; the next, it was gone.

Distracted by the sudden shift, I pitched to a stop mid-swing. The elven soldier I'd been fighting took advantage of my distraction, nearly impaling me in the chest before I twisted away at the last possible second.

His blade clipped my arm, cutting through layers of clothing and leaving a shallow scrape across my bicep. Blood seeped out. Smoke joined it as my temper rose and a combination of fury, fear, and impatience ignited the fire that was forever simmering just beneath my skin.

The soldier's eyes grew large as he watched the smoke rising from my blood. I'd been holding back up to this point, so perhaps the fool didn't realize he'd risen his weapon against an actual god .

When the idiot dared to lift his blade once more, I made sure he went to his death without any doubt about the matter.

Curls of smoke turned to ribbons of flame, snaking from my wounded arm and wrapping around the sword I held. In a few blinks, the steel was searing hot. His eyes grew even wider at the sight.

"Wait! Have mer—"

I plunged the sword into his throat.

The scent of the soldier's blood and burning flesh filled the air. I gripped his arm, yanked my sword free and wiped it on his coat, then threw him to the ground.

Without sparing him another glance, I turned and resumed my search for Karys.

I'd seen her only minutes ago. She couldn't have gone far. Unless…had she transported herself somehow? It seemed unlikely she would manage to carry herself far enough away that I couldn't feel her at all. Which only left a few other explanations, and—

No. The word formed on my lips even though I still didn't understand what had happened. No, no, no.

A cold wind washed over me. Valas appeared at my side a moment later, took one look at my face and immediately reached for his sword. "What's wrong?" His gaze snapped back and forth, searching. "Where is Karys?"

I didn't—couldn't—answer.

Instead, I started to run, racing in the direction where I'd last felt her energy radiating from. Maybe there would be a clue there. Maybe she would still be there, still fighting. We didn't fully understand the connection we shared; wasn't it possible that it had snapped for some reason, but that she was otherwise fine?

I reached a more narrow street that appeared to dead-end at an older, broken-down docking yard. This was the direction she'd traveled in, I was certain.

Yet she was nowhere to be found.

I tried listening for her. Picking out her scent. Anything, everything—but there were too many bodies in my way. Too many distractions. The sea roared its restless song and slammed its dark, foamy fists against the shoreline, turning boats on their sides and occasionally popping them up out of the waves altogether.

My gaze lingered briefly on the tossing and tumbling water. I had a horrible vision of Karys plunging over the edge of the rickety docks, sinking out of sight faster than I could call her name, and—

No.

I refused to believe it. Even if she'd fallen in—or worse, been thrown in—the sea would not have silenced her so quickly. She would have fought back against the waves no matter how high they rose or how viciously they churned. I would have felt her energy dwindling, maybe, but not extinguishing as instantaneously as it had.

So where the hell was she?

I turned around to find Mairu and Valas running toward me, their faces reflecting the same confusion I felt—a confusion that was inching quickly toward despair.

"No sign of her anywhere." Valas's usual carefree smile clenched into a tight baring of teeth as he fixed his eyes on me. "Why didn't you two stay together?"

The challenge stoked the embers of fury smoldering in my gut. He was not the one I was truly mad at, but I briefly considered taking it out on him all the same.

Before I could, Mairu stepped between us. "Many of the elves seem to be retreating," she said, pointing our attention to a spot far in the distance, where the road gave way to a large expanse of brittle, brown grass. Farther on, grassy hills sloped upward toward a rocky crest, a natural barrier that had been reinforced with spiked iron fencing across its top.

A section of that fencing had been blown away. Dark scraps of it littered the hills, shining faintly in the moonlight. Elven soldiers stood watch by the opening, shouting orders for a faster, more organized retreat.

"Because they've realized they're outnumbered, or because they've already succeeded in whatever they came here to do?" Valas wondered.

All the questions seemed irrelevant, now. I no longer cared about what their motives had been or what bombs they'd placed. Or about their successes. Or failures. I no longer cared about our own goal of keeping the war in this realm from escalating, either.

I would have started a thousand wars if that was what it took to find Karys and keep her safe.

I didn't care if any or all of them were retreating, either—at least not until I spotted one I recognized climbing into the saddle of a ghostly pale horse.

Andrel .

Mairu said my name in warning.

But I was already moving.

I shifted my form, flames engulfing my body and burning away the limits of my human shape. As I passed beyond the edge of the training grounds and into the hills beyond, I was fully changed—a great, winged beast spiraling through the air like a flaming arrow shot by a divinely powerful, impossibly accurate archer.

People screamed. Chaos and confusion roared at my back. I was making a messy situation messier by revealing this form, this power. But I didn't look back to witness what turmoil I'd stirred up—only ahead, my gaze fixed on the pale horse Andrel rode as he dragged it to a stop and jerked it around to see what everyone was shouting about.

I soared directly at them, fiery claws lashing out and scraping against the horse's sweat-slicked body, causing the creature to rear and throw its rider to the ground. It shot off into the night as Andrel rolled onto his back, gasping for breath.

I landed directly in front of him, bringing a swirling vortex of wind and fire crashing down with me. My claws dug into the earth. The dry grass ignited all around me, cutting us off from the rest of the world.

A few of Andrel's fellow soldiers attempted to push through the flames and reach him.

I focused my power and the fence of fire roared higher.

We would not be interrupted.

As Andrel tried to push himself upright, I began to change.

I could have stayed in my beastly form. Could have wrapped my wings around him and set him alight, easy as that. The fires of my body would have swallowed him entirely within seconds, easily burning his worthless body until nothing but ash remained.

But it would not have been nearly as satisfying as drawing his blood. As watching him squirm. When I went into more beastly shapes, much of my awareness went with it. Submitting to a more primal version of me and my power served a purpose occasionally, but for this…I was going to remain fully conscious for this so I could enjoy it.

Andrel's eyes met mine as my human-like features took shape once more. He stopped attempting to sit up. He stayed on his back, one hand over his heart, the other stretched out beside him.

I took the small knife from my ankle sheath. My gaze swept over him, fixing on the hand outstretched to his right.

I stabbed my knife into the center of his palm, all the way through, pinning him to the ground.

His body convulsed. Curled up with pain. Shock blanched his face. His eyes squeezed tight, then opened and stared wide-eyed at nothing, clearly trying but failing to register his surroundings.

It took several more gasping breaths and slow, dazed blinks before he returned to something like awareness. He managed a breath. Recognized me more fully. Went very still. His fingers twitched as blood oozed from around my impaled knife.

But eventually—as I probably should have expected—a slight, mocking smile stretched across his pale face. "Oh, great and powerful God of Fire," he mumbled, "show mercy ."

"You are praying to the wrong fucking god for mercy," I informed him.

He closed his eyes. Pain clenched them tighter and tighter. "Please."

I pushed the knife deeper. Twisted it until I drew another satisfying, desperate gasp from him.

" Please ," he said through another choking breath.

"You'd like for me to free you from this knife, would you?"

He went deathly still. His lips moved as if to form words, but then he merely breathed in a deep, shaking inhale—swallowing what I was certain was a foolish, mocking statement to go along with his foolish, mocking smile. Sweat dripped from his forehead. His eyes crinkled around the edges.

"Yes," he said.

Scarlet edged my vision. Divine strength surged through me, sending more tendrils of fire rolling out from my body. I pulled the knife from his palm, only to strike toward his wrist instead, guiding the blade deep into flesh and bone alike, severing his hand with a single quick, calculated motion.

Once I'd finished, I wiped his blood from my knife and rose to my full height. "Consider yourself freed ."

I stood over him, perfectly still, watching as he writhed about and cradled the bloodied stump to his chest. His pain was music to my ears. Little stuttering breaths. Occasional whimpers. Gasping dry heaves as he clenched his remaining hand around his stomach and tried not to vomit from pain.

A human would have likely already succumbed to shock, and there would have been nothing left to do but watch him bleed out. But the elf showed a bit more vitality than this, staying conscious despite the lack of color in his face.

He went silent disappointingly quickly as well, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes against the pain until he managed to collect himself.

His eyes flashed open again. Another cry started to rise in his throat, but he strangled it down, twisting his teeth into a vicious smile and shaking his head. He rose to his knees, pressing his wrist hard against his body, trying to stem the bleeding. He looked up at me without lifting his head. His pupils were fully dilated, his eyes like two cavernous pits.

"And here I thought you gods always aimed to kill," he rasped.

"I am not finished," I assured him, withdrawing my sword and planting the tip of it against the hollow of his throat. "I was simply making good on the promise I made the first time we spoke—to remove your hand if you touched her again. And you have. Several times, now."

"Yes; I was beginning to wonder when we'd have a chance to catch up on these things."

I pressed the sword deeper into his throat, drawing trails of blood to mingle with the sweat coating his skin. "Apologies for the delayed reply. I'm a busy god."

"Still—a man of his word. I appreciate that." He watched the embers flying around my body as he added, "Though I do believe you also said you'd cauterize the wound for me."

I summoned more fire to my palm. Without a word, I shaped it into a blade to match the one I held in my right hand.

I swung this second sword toward the bloodied stump he cradled to his chest, but I didn't let it actually touch anything; I merely let the flames hover over his wound, increasing the heat with every breath I took.

"You'll be dead soon," I said. "So I don't think it's worth the effort to stop the bleeding."

Blood had already soaked the entire bottom half of his coat. His smile finally disappeared, his face twisting in a way that seemed beyond his control, his pain too great to continue to mock me.

He might have been more resilient than a human, but he was still not long for this world if he continued to bleed at the rate he was.

And I needed to pry whatever useful information I could from him before I finished him off.

"Am I right to assume you know where Karys has gone?"

"You might be." He looked close to smiling again. Then he thought better of it—a rare intelligent decision from this fool.

"Tell me what they've done to her and where they've taken her," I demanded, "so I can end your worthless life and be on my way."

"Help you, just so you can kill me?" His words were just above a whisper. They were beginning to slur together. "That's quite the offer, but I'm afraid I don't accept."

"Then I'll find someone else who will tell me." I pressed the metal sword more fully to his neck. Heated the other, fiery one to the point that the scent of singed flesh engulfed us. "Which means your usefulness to me has ended."

"You're going to kill me? Really ?" He coughed. The motion made my blade slip against his skin, drawing another trail of crimson to the surface. He didn't flinch. His eyes never left my face. "You would make me a martyr?"

I hesitated for a beat, considering his words. It was a short debate. I quickly decided his death was worth any consequence that might follow—

But it didn't matter.

Because in the next moment—before I could properly end him—several things happened all at once: The ground shook with a sudden tremor that lasted for several seconds; the shield of fire I'd created wavered; an arrow screamed through the smoke and heat-hazed air, striking me in the shoulder.

The arrow didn't sink in very deeply, but it distracted me enough that my sword of fire lost its shape. As I rebalanced my remaining sword, while simultaneously inspecting the arrow's head, Andrel scrambled to his feet.

"I wouldn't be so concerned about Karys right now," he said, taking a few shaky steps away from me. "She was not the main target tonight. Collecting her was merely a bonus objective that happened to work out for us. One of many victories we'll be celebrating later."

I yanked the arrow from my shoulder. "I'm sure it will be a wonderful celebration," I snarled. "Right up until I send fire raining down over it."

"And over her, too, I presume? Since she'll be among us."

I placed a hand on my shoulder and summoned a small flame, searing the wound closed. "She isn't as weak as you," I said. "She can withstand the heat."

"Unlikely, given her current condition."

The grip on my sword burned red hot from the heat of my palm. A blistering wind rose as I closed the space he'd tried to put between us. "Where. Is. She?"

The barest hint of a smirk curled his lips. "Some place safe. And don't worry: I'm going to take good care of her."

I swung.

Clearly anticipating it, Andrel leapt aside as my sword slashed forward—but he wasn't fast enough. The still blade caught him in the chest.

Blood showered the singed ground.

I adjusted my grip on the weapon and stormed forward again.

He staggered backward.

Every sword-fighting lesson I'd ever had was forgotten—I was wild, formless, thinking of nothing except running the blade through his body in the most painful way possible. I didn't merely want to kill him. I wanted to gut him and leave the pieces of him in an unrecognizable heap on the ground.

But just as I stabbed, another arrow pierced my shoulder, striking right below the mark the first one left.

I looked toward it for a fraction of a second. Enough time for Andrel to twist aside and avoid a fatal blow from my sword—though I did draw more blood, cutting a shallow gash into his lower stomach.

He dropped to one knee, breathing hard.

I stalked toward him, sword at the ready, but he didn't attempt to back away this time.

He didn't need to.

He was no longer alone.

I realized then that he'd been trying—successfully—to draw my attention away from everything else happening around us. An entire section of my fiery wall had collapsed while I was distracted. Soldiers poured through it, racing to his aid.

I considered gutting every last one of them as well.

Something stopped me, however—a sharp prickling sensation sweeping down my arm, which soon turned to a burning I had no control over. I shifted my sword to my other hand and reached to put pressure against my shoulder; the discomfort was radiating from the spot where the first arrow had struck.

What had that arrow been laced with?

This question quickly became the least of my worries.

The ground was shaking again. Not from an explosion, this time, but from a rush of pounding hooves and boots. What appeared to be the rest of the elven army was thundering our direction, their retreat more frenzied than ever, whatever disaster they were trying to get ahead of clearly imminent.

Andrel paid the fleeing crowd no mind as two soldiers helped him back to his feet. He remained surprisingly steady once upright—steady enough that he managed to meet my gaze and hold it as he asked, "Did you even wonder why we decided to target these training grounds, of all places?"

Something in his voice made me forget about our personal battle for a moment. I clenched my shoulder more tightly as I looked back toward those grounds, pulse quickening. Another rumble echoed in the distance. Frantic shouts followed soon after—the cries of countless soldiers running toward a large grey building near the main docks.

"Because an honored guest is visiting the grounds this very night," Andrel said, answering his own question. "The King of Galizur, himself. I believe you know him?"

My hand fell to my side, wounds momentarily forgotten. "You lie."

"Afraid not. I do hope he's not in that building there in the distance," he said, gesturing flippantly at the one I'd just been staring at. "Would be a shame if he was there when our main bombs ignited."

The itching and burning in my arm grew more intense than ever. I was certain of it, now: It had not been a normal arrow that pierced it, but likely one dipped in whatever disgusting sort of anti-divine poison they'd come up with…and I'd sealed that poison inside my body with my hasty attempts to stop the bleeding.

Fuck .

A crowd of elven warriors appeared behind Andrel, their movements as silent as fog rolling in. Several carried bows. Arrow tips glistened in the moonlight as they were nocked and pointed my direction.

How many of those arrows were laced with poison? How much could I withstand before I collapsed?

I would not find out.

I calmly sheathed my sword. Then, with a furious roar, I swung my hand forward, throwing fire to the ground before the elves, setting the grass around them ablaze.

A few attempted to skirt around the flames and challenge me, while others took aim at me through the fires themselves, rapidly unleashing arrows from all directions. A few grazed my skin, but most I ignited in mid-air, turning them to ash that drifted harmlessly to the ground.

The chaotic battle was soon interrupted by a falling blanket of ice, followed by the screech of a dragon. As Mai and Valas descended over us, I caught sight of someone helping Andrel onto the back of a new horse.

I didn't chase him this time. While my fellow court members dealt with the remaining elven soldiers who dared to continue trying to challenge and distract us, my attention fixed in the direction of the grey building.

I couldn't fight off the pull that carried me toward it, first at a slow, slightly dazed jog, then a full sprint.

I was halfway to it when an explosion unlike anything I'd ever witnessed rocked the ground all the way out to where I stood—and beyond.

Light flared. The sound of shattering glass and breaking stone pierced the night. Cracks zigzagged out from the building's foundations, and in the next breath, the stone walls were crumbling upon that foundation, buckling precariously before collapsing completely.

The world continued to spin while I froze in place. The arrow's poison flared in my veins.

Breathless, I stared as that distant building came crashing down, hoping with every ounce of my being that my brother was not inside of it.