CHAPTER 55

COMMANDER RYATT

I haven't been all the way to the end of the world before this, but Seventh Kingdom is just as vast and desolate as the stories.

I ride a borrowed timberwing from Second Kingdom's fleet, while everyone else rides around me like a flock. The Wrath take up the front, King Thold and Kaila in the middle, and Second Kingdom takes up the rear.

Fifth and Sixth Kingdoms are cold, but Seventh? It's fucking arctic. So frigid that it even hurts to breathe. Like ice just slices down my throat with every inhale.

At first, I'm so focused on trying to get my desert-native beast to keep flying despite the elements, that I don't notice anything else other than the freezing clouds we fly above.

But the closer we get, the more I feel it. A buzz in the air, like when you accidentally walk right in the middle of a swarm of bees. A hum that vibrates against my skin with threat.

I can see the other soldiers and even timberwings growing antsy and confused. But none of the Wrath does, and neither does Kaila or Thold. Because we recognize what that buzz in the air is.

Magic. Powerful magic.

My pulse climbs as high as our altitude as we continue on. I don't know what kind of magic we might be flying toward, if what I'm feeling has to do with the fae or the bridge, but it sets my teeth on edge.

A shout has me whipping my head around. It's Tyde, mouthing something at me from the back of Gideon's timberwing, but I can't hear what he's trying to say. He rips off his face covering and points down as he shouts again, but I can't hear a word. Not with how fast we're going, not with the whipping wind tearing away his words.

But a second later, a blast of light shoots up at us from the sky below, startling the shit out of my bird and me both.

I have time to jerk my head forward and hear timberwings screeching, and then the light breaks apart into hundreds of crisscrossing lines and slams into us.

It's a net of lightning. An electrocuting, blinding web that catches nearly a fourth of our group. I'm one of them.

I'm jolted from the flare that's both solid and not, both passing through us and catching hold. My body goes rigid, my skin crackling with light and pain.

Beneath me, the timberwing goes stiff too, wings paralyzed, and we fall. We fucking plummet .

The net falls with us, dragging us down, and I can't breathe or blink, can't move within its confines. My teeth are clenched, wind whipping at my exposed face, and just when I think I'll pass out from lack of breath, we slam to the ground.

The net sizzles away, and I suck in a gulp of frantic air. I'm buckled to the saddle, but the timberwing is panicked, wings flapping, trying to buck me off.

All his jerky movements do is nearly knock my skull off my spine, my bones threatening to snap with how hard he's tossing me around.

There's nothing I can do but hold on.

Then a blade comes down and slices the strap holding me hostage, and I go flying off the beast's back. As soon as I do, the timberwing takes flight with a roar, leaving me behind as it flees.

But Judd helps me to my feet, the dagger still in his hand from cutting me free. He smiles, albeit shakily. "See, that's twice I've saved your—"

His body jolts.

We both look down at the same time. Both see the sword stabbed clean through his chest.

Denial pounds in my skull, and my vision tips. That didn't happen. It isn't happening…

Judd's head lifts and his hazel eyes latch onto me. " Shit ," he says, his voice garbled.

"No…"

I hear Lu scream . "JUDD!"

Horror blares through me, and the sword sticking through him is suddenly yanked back out. Judd cries out in agony and then hits the ground hard.

I'm so fucking stricken that I nearly don't react to that blood stained sword now swinging in my direction. Somehow, I manage to yank my blade from my scabbard just in time to meet it before it takes off my head.

But the force of the hit sends me flying backwards.

I land on my back in shock. How strong is this fae?

Around me, I hear other fighting going on. From my peripheral, I see Lu skid in front of Judd. Timberwings roar, and the clash of weapons and shouts erupt all around us.

But my pulse drums even louder.

Judd . Judd. Judd.

All I can see is that sword plunging through his body. The look of shock in his eyes.

And the way Lu screamed …

Stunned fury radiates within me and then a rage-filled battle cry rips from my throat. Judd.

They did that to Judd .

I shove myself upright and pick up my sword from the snow, head whipping up to see the fae is coming for me again, but instead of a battle cry of his own, I hear a sound like grinding rock.

He swings at me, but I duck this time and pivot around. I lift my foot to send a kick to his knee…and nearly break my damn foot. My body jolts.

What the hell?

His sword comes at me and I roll. I hear the hit land in the snow instead. One look to my left, and I see how deep the divot is that he made in the ground. The force he's swinging with would've cleaved me in two.

Fae are strong, but not that strong. And his leg didn't move at all when I kicked him.

The soldier moves stiffly, and I finally have time to get a good look at him. I thought he was just wearing full body armor, more intensive than the other Stone Swords we've seen, but no. It isn't the armor that's stone. The whole body is stone .

I'm fighting against a godsdamned statue.

It's relentless. It comes at me again and again, and I can't overpower it. It has no muscles. No bones. No eyes or jugular. There are no weak spots because it's not a body. It's like fighting a moving boulder.

The edges of my blade are getting blunted, my armor damaged. All around me, I hear the struggles of more fights. Hear the unmistakable sounds of death.

The statue soldier sends a fist against my armor and sends me flying again. I'm stunned from the pain that flares through my chest, my armor dented from the impact of his hit.

I get up, breath still knocked out of me, but look around and see dozens of them surrounding us, and more coming. In the distance, I can make out a castle, and the bridge, and between us, hundreds more fae soldiers.

My stomach doesn't just drop. It plunges down into a void.

We can't win this.

The realization hits me harder than the stone statue ever could.

My gaze swings around in a daze. There are bodies of people and timberwings lying dead in the snow. More fighting, everyone being overpowered by these hellish statues that we can't defeat.

I can't see Judd, can't see Lu. Have no idea where Osrik or Digby are. We're outnumbered, caught unawares. All our strategy and luck and heart just battered right the hell out of us in an instant.

Queen Kaila is in the air, her timberwing narrowly missing another one of those nets of electrocuting light. Her magic screams through the air, threatening to burst my eardrums, but it doesn't affect the statue I'm fighting since it has no fucking ears.

King Thold is on the ground with his soldiers, and I see Second Kingdom too. But we're falling left and right like felled trees.

Even the serpent king's magic isn't doing any good. Fangs and venom and constriction are useless against moving rock. The snow serpents that rush out of the snow do nothing to slow our opponents.

But…this is the Stone King's magic.

My mind claws with desperate nails, trying to latch onto a plan.

If we can take the fae king down, we can take down these statues too.

When the statue comes for me again, this time, I race toward it. As soon as it raises its arm to swing its weapon, I shift my body and use the slick snow to my advantage, sliding right beneath its arm.

Then I sprint. Focused only on the need to outrun my opponent and find the king.

There's so much fighting going on that I can't track it all. My pulse is erratic, my breathing labored, and behind me, I hear the sound of grinding rock from the statue as it chases after me.

But then I hear someone cry out hoarsely, and my head whips around as I see Digby fall into the snow. His head knocks back into a snowbank, and his helmet flies off. He struggles to grab the sword that fell just out of his grip, but one of the statues is bearing down on him, moving its weapon to strike.

To kill.

I pump my arms, legs racing as fast as I can to get to him, but I'm too far away.

Too fucking far.

Panic bursts through my stomach and burns up my throat. First Judd, and now I'm about to watch Digby get struck down too.

I try to push my body, to eat up the distance, but the statue raises its sword and starts swinging it down, and my heart stops as Digby raises an arm in front of him, fear flashing over his face where he lies on the snow.

But suddenly, a timberwing swoops down from nowhere. The big beast slams its outstretched talons against the statue, gripping it by the arm. With a roar, the bird flings it at another statue, causing them both to crack and fall.

"Digby!" I reach him in five more steps and then wrench him up from the snow.

He swings his head to look at me, but then his eyes shift over my shoulder and go wide. "Duck!" he bellows.

I drop to the ground without pause, and I feel the air shift above me, hear the whistle from a sword swinging where my head just was.

That was close.

Spinning around on the ground, I sweep my leg and knock the statue's foot out from under it. The walking rock goes tipping back, falling hard, its weight making it sink deep into the snow.

I waste no time in leaping to my feet, just as the timberwing lands next to Digby and me. That's when I recognize the bare-backed beast.

It's Argo .

"Fuck, you're a good bird," I say to him.

Behind us, another two statues have locked their attention on us and are coming at us fast.

"Get on!" I shout to Digby, and he jumps up onto Argo's back a second before I do.

As soon as we're both on, Argo launches into the air, roaring at the statues. His wings flap hard and he lifts us higher. I look down as the statues stop, unable to look up, and then they start stalking toward someone else instead.

We have to stop these things.

I dig my hands into Argo's feathers at his sides to hold on. "The fae king is controlling these!" I shout at Digby. "We need to find him!"

"Got it," he says before he moves his grip at the sides of Argo's neck to direct him.

The beast circles while I focus on holding on, my head turning as I try to search for the king. I have no clue what he looks like, but he wouldn't be far, right? He must be close by so he can control these things.

"There!" Digby shouts, and I follow the line of where he's pointing and see a man standing on a piece of pillared rock that's jutting up from the ground. He's up high, probably so he can have the best vantage point, and his hands are stretched in front of him, like he's pulling imaginary puppets on strings.

He's not even trying to be inconspicuous.

Then again, he's powerful enough that he probably doesn't think he needs to be. Sometimes, arrogance like that can be exploited and turned into a weakness.

"Get me above him!" I yell.

Argo pivots, the speed of his flight unmatched as we fly toward the king. I inwardly brace myself.

There is no time to hesitate or calculate or run through the scenarios. I am outmatched against the fae king in every possible way.

Every way…except taking him utterly by surprise.

The moment Argo gets me above him, I launch myself down.

No hesitation.

I force my mind to blank, my emotions to clear. The only discernible effect of my inner fear comes from my pounding heart as I free-fall.

There's a very slim margin for my drop to strike true, and there's an even slimmer chance that I succeed even if I do land on the right spot.

But while I may not have magic, may not have anything that this fae considers powerful, I do have one thing.

Loyalty.

I am so fucking loyal to Orea, to our people, that I will do whatever I need to. My life is forfeit to the cause. I am willing to do anything and everything to save it. But the fae king wants our world for himself. Which means he has to have a self in order to reap the benefit.

I just want to save Orea. If I die to achieve that goal, so be it.

Fucking pull it off. Whatever it takes.

My body drops.

Gravity reaches up and grabs hold of me in its iron fist. Forward and backward, tipping, reaching, I aim to hit the stone platform so I don't go skidding right off and land in a broken, useless heap.

One chance.

I suck in a breath as I lean into the fall, arms stretched out…

And I slam right into the fae king.

The force of my hit makes both of us fly off the raised platform. We crash onto the ground below, sinking into the snow.

The difference between the two of us is immediately apparent. He has a crown and pointed ears and immense magic, but he's not a soldier. He's not used to taking a hit. It's obvious, because when we land, he's stunned for too many seconds. Seconds I'm able to take advantage of.

He has his power, but I have my fucking fists.

I start pummeling him. I pin him down, my punches landing again and again, everywhere I can hit. My knuckles crack, fingers shooting with pain because of how rigid his skin is, but I ignore it, not even letting a second pass before I'm hitting him again.

My fury is my fodder. It feeds me with gluttonous force, while I take out all my anger on him for what he's done to Orea. To our people. To Judd .

My vision has gone red, stained darker with the blood I make burst from his skin. I don't know how many hits I manage to land, all I'm aware of is each brutal contact my fist makes with his body before I'm ripped away.

I'm tossed in the snow by another fae, but I'm pumping with adrenaline and rage and battle lust, so I roll and leap right back up to my feet. The soldier who tore me away from his king yanks out his sword threateningly…but then he's mowed down by a line of stone statues.

He just saved the king from a beating, and in thanks, he gets trampled.

I look to my left, seeing the furious king stepping up out of the snow, his hateful eyes staring right at me. The stone statues span out and I turn, trying to keep them all in my sights.

But they circle around me. Surround me.

My breathing is hard and fast, and I can't get past them. Their chiseled forms close in, layers of rock sculpted into bodies that bear down on me with faceless glares.

They don't even raise their weapons. They just march. Closer and closer with threat.

I'm penned in and I realize the fae king is going to make them crush me to death between their solid mass. I turn around, panic building as I desperately look for a spot to dart out, but there is none.

I'm trapped.

Claustrophobic.

My eyes swing around wildly. I grit my teeth, my pulse hammering, but reality settles in. I'm going to be crushed to death right here.

I watch as their rigid, unrelenting forms close in.

And in.

And in.

I have one more second. One moment, before I'll be pulverized. I can't even turn anymore. I feel them press in on all sides, about to immobilize me.

In a final, desperate bid to live, my knees bend, legs poised, muscles tensed, and then I launch myself as high as I possibly can.

I get three feet up in the air and then kick out, bracing my boots against the statues, using their bodies to climb out from their pressing tomb.

Without minds of their own, they're beholden to their puppet master, so they can't react quickly enough. I scale them, hands grappling, digging in to every foothold, and then some-fucking-how, I make it onto their shoulders and fling myself out of their claustrophobic circle.

I land hard on the balls of my feet, pain shooting through both ankles, but my head whips up to face the Stone King, and our eyes meet.

His gaze widens as I lift my blade—metal. Not an inch of stone on me that he can control. And with my momentum fueled purely by near-death panic and unadulterated rage, I swing my sword.

Right through his neck.

Metal slices through him, and the moment his head hits the snow, so does every single statue. All at once.

Lifeless. Unmoving.

Useless rock.

I land hard on my knees, heaving breath, the head of the fae king rolling to a stop to my left.

Dead.

I glance up, my heart hammering through my chest, and elation runs through me.

But then I hear the war drum and battle cries as the Stone Swords descend like vultures, ready to pick us off, and horror washes over me. Fatal comprehension.

Because I killed their king. I killed the person who ordered this invasion.

But it doesn't fucking matter. The war didn't end with him.

The fae are going to slaughter us anyway.