43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

I run past The Snakebeard and down a back alley towards St. Agatha's. The air is thick and smoky, making my eyes sting. Twice, I bump into running citizens.

I take a sharp right around the back of the blacksmith shop and bump into a third. The impact sends me careening into a stack of crates, and I tumble over them. I fall backward, cracking my head on the cobblestone path. The clang of my sword echoes loudly. Blinding light flashes behind my eyes, and my nose stings of saltwater.

The chaos and urgency around me slows to an almost stop. Where am I? I blink away the tears in my eyes, the towering buildings around me taking shape. White flecks fall all around me, coating surfaces in a dusty layer. Is it snowing?

I sit up, slowly wincing at my throbbing head. I reach out my hand, trying to catch some of the snow. It's light and fluffy but not cold like I expected.

My mind is sluggish, but it finally clicks. This isn't snow; it's ash. My confusion lifts as I heal my head injury.

To my right, an animalistic scream rips my focus back to reality.

A man beside the blacksmith shop lies on the ground screaming and covering his head with his arms while two red-eyed hairless beasts tear at his middle. The blacksmith stands nearby, pale-faced, watching a beast pull intestines from the screaming man with its powerful jaws.

Watching above them, a towering frygt looks at me, flames rolling from his eye sockets. A slow grin spreads across his face, revealing a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. He takes a step towards me, its long bovine-like legs stepping over the dying man. It raises unnaturally long fingers and curls them upwards. My stomach plummets as he lifts me skyward, high above the rooftop. I'm too afraid to scream. Several other bodies hover around me in the sky, absolute terror etched on their faces. I try to move, but I can't.

The man hovering two blocks over begins to scream as his arms and legs snap back in towards himself without regard to regular joint movements. He stops screaming as his body collapses in on itself, raining blood on the streets. He folds inwardly until he's the size of a sack of potatoes and falls to the ground.

Farther away, another individual starts to fold. My heart pounds rapidly, and I feel that familiar pulling sensation just before I drop several feet, now hovering below the roof line.

Below, a dozen Ravton soldiers and two Crusaders file through the streets. They attack the frygt, slashing at him with their swords. The frygt releases his hold on me, and I fall, landing on two soldiers.

Back on their feet, the two soldiers charge towards the frygt who punches a hole through one of the soldier's chest plates and clamps down on the neck of another. Significantly taller than the soldiers, the frygt must bend over to clamp down on the soldier, the curve of his spine now taking up a majority of the alleyway.

"You must sever the head!" One of the Crusaders yells across the chaos.

The sound of tearing flesh and gurgling is so loud I cover my ears. The frygt's current victim locks eyes with me as his throat is ripped out. He hits the ground with a loud metallic bang, and I jump. I squint as the bright light is too much for my eyes.

No, no no—not again. This cannot be happening right now. I back away, and my back presses into the brick wall of the alley. I hear every step, every clang of sword. I hear the crackle of fire and screams for miles and the beating of monstrous wings above. I hear my breathing, my heartbeat, and the squelch and pop as the frygt's head is lobbed off.

The smell of blood, piss, and shit permeates my nose, and I gag. There's something else in the air I smell; it's pungent and alarming. Fear; I smell their fear.

I stumble down the alley towards the orphanage and slide my hand across the brick wall, bracing myself. The rough bricks feel like the spines of a thousand blue harkquill fish.

"Ma'am!" His voice is so loud I fear I may rupture an eardrum. "Ma'am, are you alright?" An unidentifiable soldier gets in my face, covered in soot, blood, and ash. I nod at him. "Get to the docks. There's a fae warrior there sheltering survivors."

The soldiers run past me, led by the two Crusaders. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember how August helped me through this. I concentrate on one of the senses, a single sound. I focus on the sound of my breath, which is rapid and shallow. I begin pulling deeper, slower breaths, and my senses fade to a tolerable level.

I sprint ahead. I've lost so much time. I weave through burning carts and crumpled bodies, all the while keeping an eye on the sky above. A baby's cry cuts through the air as its mother bounces it soothingly on her shoulder, a blank expression on her ashen face.

I taste an ounce of relief as the orphanage comes into view, still standing unmarred by battle. Rapid footfall behind me alarms me, and I grasp for my short sword. Shit, I left it the alley. I stop in my tracks, turn, and throw up a shield. My follower runs full speed into it and is thrown back.

"Oh gods, Eoin. I'm so sorry!" I rush to his side, hope expanding in my chest. Eoin is alive.

"That's a nice new power you've got there," he wheezes. I help him up.

"Alright." He pulls a dagger from his belt, handing it to me. "Let's find Tomas and get these kids out of here."

An earthshaking roar has us both cowering, covering our ears. A massive shadow passes over us as the dragon spews fire onto nearby buildings. He's so close his belly blocks out the sky with a myriad of colorful, shimmering scales. He's not actually brown.

The dragon roars again, banking upwards.

"Shit," Eoin exclaims as we both notice the shimmering gold soldier on the beast's back. The dragon spins through the air, trying to shake him loose, but the soldier continues up its back and neck, cape billowing behind him. I think it's Luc.

The dragon shakes its head, gnashing its teeth at the rider as it continues to spin skyward. Luc reaches the head of the dragon and buries his blade into the side of its spiny temple.

The dragon stops spinning and seems to hover for a brief moment before plummeting back towards the city below. Impossibly, Luc phases.

Eoin tugs my arm. "Hurry!"

The dragon tumbles end over end right towards us. We run towards the orphanage, crossing the lawn and reaching the doors just as the dragon slams into the ground in a powerful boom.

Dust, soot, and dirt fly through the air. I can no longer see the buildings behind the dragon, but the sharp clatter of tumbling rocks indicates they've collapsed. We enter the orphanage, and the smoke and dust outside make it remarkably dark in here.

"Tomas?" Eoin's call echoes through the empty hallway. It's silent in here.

The stillness feels wrong. The building is usually half full of children of all ages, laughing and talking over one another.

"Maybe someone already got them out."

"Let's at least check." Eoin starts down the main hall, sword in hand. I grip my dagger, allowing my senses to heighten. I listen for movement and heartbeats. I hear Eoin's racing heart and smell. . . blood.

We enter the mess hall, and the lingering stench of fear and death lingers in the air.

I look to Eoin, and he clenches his jaw, eyes darting around the room. Before us, multiple tables lie on their sides, and blood splatters the walls and floor. A crumpled, bloody mound lies in the middle of the room—another frygt victim. Behind us, the sound of crumbling rock and a collapsing roof echoes through the chamber, followed by plumes of dust wafting from the direction we just came from.

"Over there." I point to a red hand print smear on the wall across the room.

"Stay behind me," Eoin says, walking cautiously between two upturned tables. I follow him down a narrow hallway with multiple doors on each side. I listen for any signs of movement and notice something. I grab Eoin's arm and place a single finger over my lips.

I concentrate on the sounds in the hall. Faint rhythmic overlapping thumping comes from two different directions. The sound tumbles over itself like a hundred marbles falling down a velvet set of stairs.

"Heartbeats," I say to Eoin, a smile beginning to turn my mouth. "There's so many of them—in the first year's classroom," I point to one of the doors in the hallway, "and back in the chapel."

Eoin rushes to the first mentioned set of doors and flings them open.

"Tomas?" Several eyes peer up at us from behind school desks. In the back, two sisters hold onto three clingy toddlers.

We step into the room, and the smell of fear is so overpowering it chokes me. I step back into the hall and gag, hunched over.

"Wait here," Eoin says to them. "We will be right back. We're going to get you to safety." The sisters nod, and one of the children runs up to Eoin, hugging him. He sends the child back into the room and quietly shuts the door.

Eoin throws the door of the chapel open and flicks his sword out lightning-fast, deflecting a blow I didn't even see coming.

He quickly drops his sword and pulls the assailant into his arms.

"Tomas." Eoin's voice comes out almost as a sob. I've only been gone a few months, but Tomas is several inches taller. I scan several more children in this room, a couple of the older ones with swords as well.

"Good sword work, kid," Eoin says. "You have a sword for Bron?"

Tomas runs behind the pulpit and brings me a long sword. It's a bit heavier than I'm used to, but it makes me feel better.

"I think the entryway has collapsed," Eoin states. "We need to get you all to the beach before the whole building goes."

Eager to cling to any sense of hope, the children move quickly and silently, following our every instruction. Behind the orphanage, we split into two groups. Eoin takes the lead group of older children and starts down a path toward the beach, while Tomas and I assemble the smaller but slower group of younger children.

We only make it a single block before we lose sight of Eoin's group entirely. The children hold hands, trailing behind us like a centipede as we clear the alleyway and pass the blacksmith.

The city seems much quieter now, and what's left of the fighting sounds distant. Nonetheless, I want to stay vigilant.

The sky darkens as if it were early evening. I peer around corners and keep an eye on the sky, lest another dragon show up.

Above, the sun is partially covered by the moon and turns an angry shade of red, casting ominous shadows. I've never seen anything like it.

"We're almost there. I can see The Snakebeard." Tomas's voice has changed since I last saw him, but it still has that boyish squeak to it.

Tomas and I pick up the two smallest toddlers and make a break for it, sprinting toward The Snakebeard as quickly as the littlest legs allow it.

"Over here!" A voice calls from within The Snakebeard. Antoine waves eagerly towards us and then points behind us. My heart sinks as I look over my shoulder at the two-story tall frygt walking towards us, his horns towering well above the roof lines. Dozens of arrows protrude from its back.

It stalks down the road. I don't think he's noticed us yet. We run into The Snakebeard, and Antoine shuts the front door.

"To the cellar," Antoine says, and he and his wife lead the children to the back. I'm left with Tomas by the door. He focuses on me, and his face hardens. He looks so much like Eoin right now.

"You think Eoin is okay?" He tries to hide it, but the slight waver in his voice is telling.

I don't want to lie to him. "I really hope so, kid."

The frygt approaches The Snakebeard and stops somewhere outside the door. He inhales deeply before letting out a deep chuckle that echoes through the room. His low, inhuman voice rumbles through me and makes my hair stand on end.

"I smell goddess blood." He chuckles again and sniffs around, trying to find me. Images of the floating bodies above the city flash through my mind, and all the children's faces below me in the cellar.

My vision darkens around the edges as the frygt outside beckons the goddess within.

"Tomas." I take his hands and look him in the eyes. "I love you so much."

"Stop it." He's firm with me, just like Eoin would be. "We are going to be fine."

"No, that's not it." I swallow hard, anticipating that familiar pulling sensation.

"If I look different, please don't be afraid. It's still me. Get the kids to the docks if you see a window."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion just as we hear another low growl from outside the door.

The light from the windows dims as its gigantic body bends down before the door. "I've found you," the frygt whispers through the doorway, and a small whimper passes my lips. Somehow, his whispering voice is even more terrifying than the loud, deep rumble from before. A chill runs up my spine, and the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

Where is she? Why isn't she taking over?

I watch Tomas retreat to the cellar as I pick up the heavy longsword. A stream of air repeatedly blows through the cracks around the door with each breath the frygt releases. "Come out or burn," it says.

I grip the door handle and step into the fray.

Several stars twinkle around the frygt in the deep purple sky as he stands. He chuckles as my hands begin to tremble, his wicked grin spreading across his ash and blood-covered face. Those long, pointy teeth must be nearly as long as my fingers.

"There you are," he says, cracking his knuckles. He lifts a hand, and the sword rips from my hand, taking what little valor I had left. It hovers in the air as the frygt's smile widens. He flicks a finger, and the sword flies through the air towards the bay.

The sun above is almost completely covered by the moon, a ring of fire flashing ominously. Help me , I call to my darkness, but she doesn't respond.

The frygt raises his hand towards me again like the one in the alleyway, and instincts take over. I block him with a shield and sidestep away from The Snakebeard. I want him as far away from Tomas and the children as possible.

He attempts to raise me skyward, but I block him again. He lets out a thunderous roar and continues to push his magic at me. It ripples and waves over my invisible shield, and I feel it waver. I won't last like this.

I feel around in my well for my darkness's tether. Why won't she help me?

I find Luc's tether. Maybe, just maybe.

I ignore the disparaging, ominous feeling it emits, and I yank on Luc's tether.

I gasp as an enormous foreign power floods me. I extend my arms toward the towering frygt, and a perfectly round sphere of light twinkles and zaps around his torso.

I glance towards the pier and find Eoin running towards us. He yells my name and holds his sword above his head with both hands, ready to throw it.

Behind him, Luc stands in front of a crowd of refugees, his face a mixture of shock and awe.

Eoin plants his feet into the ground and releases the sword towards the frygt. It spins, end over end, towards the frygt's neck as the twinkling orb around its torso zaps and grows in intensity.

In the space between breaths, three things happen simultaneously: the sword passes through the frygt's neck, its eyes widen, and the flames extinguish within them. The flashing orb around its middle ignites within itself, followed by the loudest explosion I've ever heard.

The frygt before me explodes into countless pieces, and I shield myself from the blast.

I look past Eoin, who gapes at me, to Luc. A slow smile spreads across his lips. If he was thinking about letting me go before, he definitely isn't now. And now I know exactly what his explosive power really is.