27. TWENTY SEVEN

twenty-seven

TWO LEGS AND WAR

“Daeja?”

“I’m here.”

We move to each other, following our magnetic pull through the shadowed forest. My jaw is unbearably tight with unbound anxiety, and I’m having a hard time taking my eyes off Blackfell, despite being unable to see any of our squad now.

A sliver of my tension vanishes once I graze my fingertips against Daeja’s nose. “ I know I said I would wait here with you … but I have to get closer in case they need me.”

She growls, the sound vibrating under my touch. “ Then I’m going with you.”

“You can’t. If someone sees you, we’re both dead.” I tap two fingers against the side of her neck, but nothing happens. “See? If you were able to vanish again, we wouldn’t have to worry about someone seeing you. You’re far too big to hide now.”

“You can’t keep telling me to stay back, meanwhile you run head first into these dangers. I have to protect you.”

“No, I have to protect you. I jab a finger into the tip of her nose.

She scoffs and whips her tail at me. “ I don’t need protecting.”

I duck, barely missing her swing. “ Just because you’re bigger now, Daeja, doesn’t mean you can take care of yourself.”

“Oh? You’re just as defenseless, if not more, than I am.”

“I’m not arguing with you. You stay here, and if I’m not back in an hour, you leave for the Dragon Lands on your own.”

She roars, and I have to shut her maw with my hands. I scan our surroundings over my shoulder, even though I know the sound of the battle is likely loud enough to drown her out, and I’m the only one out here.

“Dammit, Daeja! Be logical for a second, there’s no way I can defend you and me.”

“You’re right. You can hardly defend yourself. We are in this—together.”

This must be what it’s like for Cole. My gaze narrows, and she matches my expression.

I sigh, seeing no way out of it. “Fine. But you stay behind me, and if I tell you to go, you go.”

“Fine.”

Though deep down, something tells me she won’t.

The distant roar of the battle grows louder as we slink closer to town. We edge around the southern perimeter, weaving in and out of buildings at an achingly slow pace. A thick layer of sweat accumulates between Marge’s bag and my back.

I peek from around the corner of a building, through an alley dumping into the center square of Blackfell. In the distance, a throng of people ebb and flow in a dark sea of war. But what catches my attention is the several groups of people sitting eerily still between me and the battle. I swallow hard—one of them writhes on the ground.

I hold out a hand to Daeja. “ Stay.”

Inching closer, I press my side to the alley wall, meshing my silhouette into the shadows. As I get near the end of the alley, I realize the man on the ground wriggling has his mouth gagged, his hands and feet tied. He thrashes to free himself, and someone appears dressed in black, their back to me. The shadowy figure kicks the hostage until he stills, the rest of the hostages watching with wide eyes. Their captor drops into a crouch and wraps the rope tighter around the motionless hostage’s arms and legs.

A rebel.

“They’re tied up, we have to free them.”

But everyone else is preoccupied with keeping the fighting rebels at bay. The lone rebel dressed in black paces by the group of tied and gagged civilians, watching them intently.

I creep closer. “ Daeja, I have a plan.”

“Psstt,” I call.

The rebel whips toward me. I wave, trying to snag his attention to the alleyway. His gaze narrows in on me, and he charges. Turning, I race back down the alley toward Daeja hidden around a corner, the man’s heavy footsteps echoing behind me like thunder. I can’t pump my arms and legs fast enough. He catches up to me within a few strides and snatches the back of my neck and hair, ripping me toward him.

Daeja slinks out from the hidden corner and bolts forward, reaching behind me, she snaps the man’s head into her jaws. His grasp disappears from me as she rips his head free from his body and tosses it far off into the shadowed alley. His body slumps to his knees before collapsing forward. My heart races as I pat my neck and chest. I scan the man’s decapitated body, cringing at the mess of fluids and flesh strewn about the ground. Clenched in his hand is the chain of Cole’s necklace. I pry his rigid fingers open with trembling hands.

The clasp of the necklace is broken, so I pocket the chain and suck in a shaky breath as I slide the metal ring down my finger. I had always imagined wearing it—but never like this. Never in a reality where Cole could die at any second. A chill and calmness spreads through me as if it were ice singing in my veins. It floods me until my body buzzes with energy.

“He’ll be okay,” Daeja whispers in my mind.

I glance at her with a hesitant smile, and I am grateful for her grounding and comforting influence. Perhaps I would never be as skillful at daggers like Archie. Strong in hand-to-hand combat like Cole. Or the best swordsman like Darian.

But I have a fucking dragon. And that makes me feel powerful. It makes me feel a little bit…

Unstoppable.

I race back down the alley toward the group of hostages, unsheathing my dagger from my thigh and dropping to my knees near the one that was kicked still by the rebel. I scan the square around us, nervous another rebel may emerge from the shadows. “ Daeja, watch my back. Let me know if someone is coming.”

“Got it.”

Sawing my dagger through the rope binding the man’s wrists, I fling the cords to the side as the man’s eyes blink open.

I pull the gag from his mouth. “Are you alright?”

He nods, eyes still wild with fear. “Yes. Yes, I think so.”

“Is anyone else in your group hurt?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

I hand him my sword. “All of you need to go south to the forest. Be quick. Take this and defend yourselves should someone follow you. Wait in the forest for me, I won’t be far behind.”

I work quickly, freeing one hostage at a time with my dagger. Each one I release slips away from the town square. Freeing the last civilian, I glance over to the alley where Daeja lies in wait, reflections glimmering in her pupils as she surveys the surroundings.

I stand, taking a few steps into her direction when a scream pierces through the chaos, chilling my blood.

I follow the sound and find Archie sinking against the wall of a stone building, his mouth open wide in a cry and hand cradling his arm. A rebel creeps closer to Archie, wielding an axe dripping dark red…

Blood.

The rebel raises his arm to swing again, and I charge. I throw my dagger without a second thought. It flies across the distance but doesn’t go as far as I hoped. The blade sinks into the rebel’s heel, and he shrieks, swiveling toward me. It’s enough of a distraction, though, and Archie catches my gaze.

“Go!” I mouth.

Archie scrambles off, disappearing into the throng of people as the rebel races toward me. I pat my side for my weapon, panic flooding my veins as I recall giving my sword to the hostage. And I just flung my dagger, now far out of my reach.

I’m fucked.

I turn, eyeing the distance between Daeja and I. Her roar splits the air, and she barrels down the alley toward me. But it won’t matter—the rebel will get to me first.

The rebel closes the distance between us, and I backpedal, clenching my fists and readying myself for whatever fight I can possibly muster. In slow-motion, he raises his axe, the metal gleaming and swings it down toward me.

Cole slams into the rebel from the side with a mighty roar, ripping him into the ground. In the blink of an eye, Cole rears up, jumping to his feet while the rebel struggles to stand.

I watch in horror as something as quick as a burst of lightning shifts in Cole. A vicious ferality unlocks in him as he thrusts his sword into the man’s chest. The rebel falls back down to the ground with a gurgling cry, and Cole rips his blade free. A shaking rage tightens Cole’s features, his eyes entirely focused on the rebel as he swings his sword down. Again, and again. The rebel lies motionless as Cole hacks repeatedly into his flesh. A wicked shiver races down my spine. “Stop,” I whisper, the words soft on my lips as the war rages around me. But only I hear it.

The man’s blood splatters Cole with each strike, the corpse shuddering with each contact. But Cole doesn’t cease—crazed by his own wrath.

“Cole, stop!” I throw my hand out as if to stop him, but he doesn’t react. A loud whoosh and roar flares to life in the background as noise swims back to me. I lunge at Cole as he swings down again, catching his forearm in my hand and stopping him. My hand shakes at the effort of bracing against his strength.

He whips to me, his face stained red with blood. His lips are pulled back into a snarl, his teeth splattered with crimson. And his eyes…they roar with an inferno that makes me shrink back.

It takes a few moments for him to see through the haze of his anger—to see me. I watch it recede, as a fog might fade when the sun comes out. His sword falls to the ground with a clatter, his breath racing as he looks down at his hands coated with blood. They begin to tremble.

A deep, guttural horn blows into the night, cutting above the rest of the uproar. I stiffen, shooting a glance back over to Daeja whose dark figure flashes and flickers toward us. Her silhouette winking in and out of vision, as if she were a shadowed mirage.

Now wasn’t the time to be practicing her vanishing skills.

“The Carnyx...Daeja, get back to the forest! Someone’s spotted you!”

“Go!” Cole says and pushes me. His blood-soaked hand leaves a red print on my shoulder. “Take her, and get out of here, Kat!”

Before I can ponder it, I race back to the alley. “ Where are you? We need to go!”

Daeja’s silhouette shimmers at the end of the corridor, and I sprint toward her. She nabs the back of my shirt in her mouth, lifts me off the ground, and bursts into a run. I bite down a shout of surprise. My feet dangle below me, and my hands grip at my shirt clenched in her jagged teeth. She leaps onto the city wall and launches into the air, her wings flapping and steering us clear of the pathways to Blackfell.

“You couldn’t wait for me to get on your back first!”

“You said we needed to go. I didn’t think we had the time.”

She flares her wings as we approach the thick of the forest, flying low, down near the tops of the trees. Flapping hard and slow to ease her descent, we land, and she sets me down carefully.

I adjust my shirt, tucking it back into my pants. “ Did anyone see you?”

“No. The only two legger I saw was the one whose head I removed. The others you freed went a different pathway.”

I gaze up at her. “ You…you did it. I saw you vanish a few times.”

“I did?”

Nodding, I scan the skies, but it’s blocked out by trees stretching above us. My nerves knot in my stomach at all the reasons why someone might have sounded the Carnyx. The first reason being if Daeja was spotted.

“Stay here. I need to check and see if the hostages made it out okay.”

I’m relieved she doesn’t argue.

As I run toward the open plains of the pathway to Blackfell, I make out a group of people huddled against large boulders. I recognize the man I handed my sword to, along with all the others I freed.

“You all made it out okay?” I manage through tired breaths.

“Yes, thanks to you.” He hands me back my sword. “We are so grateful for the King’s support.”

I absent-mindedly trace my thumb over the intertwined circles etched into the hilt.

Before I can respond, an elderly woman hisses in the back of the group. “Those rebels brought dragons.”

When I turn to Blackfell, my heart drops. A flare of red branches up into the sky, followed by thick, dark smoke choking out the light from the moon.

“Who sounded the horn?” I ask. “How do we know it was dragons?”

“Everyone knows the Carnyx is saved only for dragon sightings. And look at that fire. There’s no way that could have come from a few torches. It has to be dragonfire,” the woman answers.

“Did you use fire?”

“No?”

No dark figures dip between the clouds. Could someone have seen Daeja in the fleeting moments she might have been visible?

A dark mass of people head toward us from Blackfell. I take a few steps back, my hand gripping my sword. Others behind me gasp and point with shrill cries. As I ready myself to command the people behind me to run, every fear dissipates when I catch a glimmer of flame-red hair.

My hand releases my sword to the ground. “It’s okay, that’s our side.”

I don’t try to fight the urge to race to Cole—I fly to him, nearly tackling him to the ground. Burying my head into his chest, I silently thank the stars, gods, and everything sacred he’s alive. The scent of smoke, blood, and metal washes over me. Sweat mixed with fire.

He hugs me back.

Relief floods my soul, and I pull back to face him, almost forgetting I can’t kiss him. The temptation dies quickly at how close I am to his face. Blood splatters his skin, his red hair matted with it. My stomach flips, and we take a step back from each other.

Cole stiffens as he notices the group of civilians behind me.

“It’s okay. They were the hostages,” I confirm.

“How did they get here?” Cole asks.

The man I loaned my sword to answers, “She saved us.”

After I confirm with a nod, Cole switches his attention to counting through the remaining squad around us. Darian, Melaina, Nolan, Gavin…he freezes. Terror in his eyes.

“Darian, where’s Archie?”