62. Strength In Numbers

62. Strength In Numbers

Skylenna

The sun burns red onthe ocean horizon. A hot piece of coal hovering over the crashing waves.

I’m not sure what keeps me awake and alert. Maybe the nerves of seeing hope in the form of soldiers scattered along that shoreline. The fantasy of running into Chekiss’s arms. The perfect picture of success that I’ve made it this far, I’ve honored my friends by not dying along the way.

“Are we almost there?” I ask my furry travel companions.

DaiSzek chuffs, trotting around a crusty crack in the sandy earth. He picks up his pace with excitement, racing forward. I feel the spray of ocean mist, a sensation that might have me sick and breaking down if I wasn’t so sick and tired already.

But Knightingale hops next to me with the giddiness of a puppy, so I lift my head from DaiSzek’s thick neck and look to the dark wall forming a heady perimeter across that sandy shore.

Only…it’s not a wall.

It’s populations of soldiers in clusters talking, sitting, eating, setting up tents, sharpening weapons, docking boats, and training with swords. And they’re all so different. The Demechnef soldiers stick out like sore thumbs to the far right of the shore with their gold tassels and maroon uniforms. But the rest are rugged and ancient and beautiful to look at.

The Stormsages are sporting their northern attire, yet peeling off their heavy coats and furs.

The Nightamous Horde appear like sultry death in their black straps of leather and revealing transparent clothing. Though this time, they wear charcoal breastplates and helmets.

Then there are the Druidalas Kin with their heavy robes and long wooden staffs.

The Naiadales with their clothing made of shrubs and vines.

The Faecrest colony in shiny bangles and beige clothing, holding golden spears.

And off in a small section surrounding a fire is Judas with his people of Crimson Cres. They wear silver armor, old and antique, like stoic white knights. And I suppose they’re all spies of the city, now gathered for their greater purpose.

“You really did it,” I whisper to DaiSzek.

He gathered the colonies. He brought our armies.

“Child?”

I shift my focus across the masses of people along the border, landing on a man rising from the log he was seated on. Chekiss steps toward me, boots sinking in the sand, arms rising from his sides in complete astonishment.

“Chekiss!” I choke out, sliding off of DaiSzek’s back.

He races toward me, but the second my feet land, my knees quake under my weight. The world tilts and rotates unnaturally. I’m feeble and hungry and disjointed in my ability to stand upright. I tumble to my knees, feeling Chekiss’s warm, fatherly arms wrapping around me.

“Are you hurt?” he asks huskily.

“No.” I blink slowly. “Yes. I haven’t eaten or had anything to drink. My arm was hit by an arrow.”

“What does she need?” Runa stands behind him, blocking the tangerine rays of the sunset.

“Runa,” I murmur with a smile.

“She must be delirious if she’s happy to see me,” Runa comments with a glib smirk.

“Soup! Bring hot broth and bread!” Chekiss sits me down gently, brushing my hair away from my face. “Rest your eyes, child.”

“I can’t,” I say helplessly.

“You’re safe now.”

“No. We have to get them out.”

But my vision is shaded and blurry. My face goes numb. My lashes crisscross over my vision. And the last thing I feel is DaiSzek lying down beside me.

~

I wake up to thestars twinkling over my head and a mug of steam hovering under my nose.

“Drink. It’s soup,” Chekiss says.

I sit up against DaiSzek’s sleeping body. I remind myself of a street child the way I guzzle the warm soup. Chicken and other vegetables. Hot broth. Salty and delicious running down my throat.

“Mmm!” I sway back and forth, feeling delighted as I slurp from the mug messily.

“Tell me he’s alive, Skylenna.” I lower my mug to see Chekiss’s weathered face in the light of a fire to my left. He looks older somehow. Tired and ill with worry.

“Who?”

“Niles. Tell me my son is okay.” His rusted voice trembles with his chin and bottom lip.

“Yes,” I breathe. “For now.”

Chekiss deflates a little, rubbing his dry hands over his face. He really does appear sick, from his worry lines to the weight he’s lost. His dark skin has lost some pigmentation, eyes are sunken in, and as I reach over his frail hands, they shake.

“I’ve been taking care of the kids while you were away,” he says softly, then smiles to himself. “Or I suppose they’ve been taking care of me.”

I follow his sight to Knightingale and DaiSzek sleeping with twitching paws as they dream about running and fighting.

“Thank you,” I say after another sip of soup.

“You’re alive.”

I look over Chekiss’s shoulder at the leader of Demechnef in his general’s uniform and slicked back hair. Those arctic blue eyes shudder as he stares at me.

“I am.”

As other soldiers gather around to see me again, Aurick simply stares at me with an unreadable expression. Though it’s full of strong emotions, I can’t figure out why he’s looking at me like this.

In three long strides, he dumps himself at my feet, throwing his arms around my shoulders. I pass my mug to Chekiss before he can knock it over.

It’s a tempting notion to shove this man off of me. But before I do, he shudders against me. Not crying, not laughing. He just shudders.

“You’re hugging me,” I comment, sounding like Niles.

“I’m fucking glad to see you.”

Why?I narrow my eyes at Chekiss over his shoulder. He shrugs at me with one lifted eyebrow, bringing my mug to his mouth to sip in silent judgment.

“You’re the one that sent us out there to be captured,” I remind Aurick.

“I know!” He shudders again. “That’s all I’ve been able to think about since you six didn’t come back. In one fell swoop, I lost everyone who means a damn to me.”

Please. He’s talking about Marilynn. I’m not stupid.

“I really never thought they’d outsmart you, too. Honestly, it never occurred to me that you would be captured.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t let Dessin hear you say that.”

Aurick holds me tighter, and for a small moment, I almost feel like he does care about me. Not just as an experiment, but as the friend who gave me a home when I was left out in the cold. He buries his face against my shoulder, running his hands up and down my back.

Yeah, Dessin would really hate what’s going on here.

“Is he okay?” Aurick grumbles against my shoulder. “Are they all okay?”

I wonder why he doesn’t want to ask about Marilynn directly.

“They’re alive. But Ruth is in bad condition.”

Chekiss sits up straighter at this.

I give Aurick’s shoulder a gentle pat pat, offering him the hint that this hug has lasted way too long, and now it’s getting uncomfortable. But he doesn’t budge, only latches on a little tighter.

DaiSzek snarls next to me, his lips curling over his razor-sharp teeth with one eye open, glued to the man hugging me past his welcome.

Aurick releases me quickly, shifting backward with his hands up to show DaiSzek that he isn’t a threat.

I smile, patting my furry buddy on the head. “Good boy.”

“I’ll let you get your rest.” He stands to walk away, but I dig my nails into his ankle urgently.

“I’m not resting anymore. We must get them out of the prison. Now!”

The guilt of being the only one to escape is poison to my heart. I should have stayed behind. Dessin should be the one here, leading the masses to our rescue. He would know how to command these men and women. He wouldn’t rest until he broke us out of confinement.

“It’ll all be fine. We’re working on it,” Aurick says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Working on it?” Steam pulses from my ears. “I just watched my best friend’s legs get chopped off by a rusted axe! Were you workingon it then? Or how about when the love of my life was brainwashed into believing I’m a demon from hell sent to torture him? Where were you and this army when they were starving us for weeks? How long will you be working on it before they die horrible deaths in that hellhole?!”

I’ve gathered an audience of different members from the ancient colonies. They surround us one by one, listening intently as I raise my voice in a fit of anger.

Aurick’s glacier eyes move through the audience insecurely before answering.

“After we mapped the layout of the prison, we sent a small but formidable unit to rescue your friends. They’re on their way there now,” Aurick answers in a stern tone that tells me to stop questioning his authority.

I narrow my eyes into small slits. “A small unit?”

He nods twice.

“They’ll never make it out,” I exhale in defeat. “A small unit?”

“My husband will get them out.” A few members of the Stormsages open their bodies to allow Asena to step forward. She looks like a white wolf queen in her armor made of white scales and gray pelts, with a heavy cloak made of animal skins and furs.

“Asena,” I utter.

“Garanthian and my son took our strongest, stealthiest warriors to break your friends out.” She gazes into my spirit with those wise, almond eyes. “They will not fail.”

I know she might believe that. But she hasn’t seen what I’ve seen in that insidious place. Doubt and more guilt fill my lungs as I hold her gaze with uncertainty.

“There are swamp dawpers, and the place is crawling with sentinels and basically the entire force of the Vexamen Breed.” I shake my head and rub the space between my brows. “Even if they manage to get them out, they won’t make it back to our camp. We have to bring our army and be there waiting to defend them.”

“No.” Aurick stands tall, like the egotistical leader he is. “Their numbers far exceed our own, even with the added forces of the ancient colonies. We’re safer if we wait this out and come up with a better plan of attack.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Demechnef…” Runa appears behind me, looking to her left at Rydran, from the Naiadales.

“We follow the Fallen Saint into battle. Not you,” Rydran says, with a few of his own men forming a crowd behind him.

Aurick looks genuinely confused. “But I’m the one who brought you all here. I’m the one who has gathered your people, even you said it yourself! They haven’t gathered in hundreds of years!”

“No,” Asena says sternly. “He has gathered us. As predicted by our sacred prophecy. The last of the mighty RottWeilen, the alpha of all alphas. He was always meant to unite us for a greater calling.”

Everyone looks at DaiSzek, who now sits up, watching us with attentive eyes.

“Well…still…” Aurick still looks like he doesn’t quite understand. “You need my army, too. And Demechnef will not fight without proper planning. We refuse to walk into a slaughter.”

My face boils with heat and hatred for this man. After everything we’ve been through…how can he still be this asshole? How can he wait any longer to rescue my people? What could I possibly say to change his mind?

An intrusive thought enters my mind like an unwanted house guest.

“Shouldn’t you do it for Marilynn?” I probe.

He shifts on his feet unnerved. “She would want me to be smart about this. And she can take care of herself.”

“Can she?” I stand up, and so do DaiSzek and Knightingale. “Did you know they ripped all of her fingernails out?”

Aurick winces, staring at the ground in an attempt to school his expression into submission.

“Did you know they starved her, even though she’s…” I trail off, realizing it isn’t my place to tell him this.

“Even though she’s what?”

Not even the waves of the ocean make a sound as we stare each other down.

Is this a secret I should keep until Marilynn’s ready? Can I get him to send his soldiers to rescue my friends without spilling this last detail? As I watch his skeptical face and think of all the ways my friends are hurting right now, I decide this is a matter of life and death. For all of them.

“Even though she’s pregnant with your baby, Aurick.”

Gasps, throat clearing, and feet shuffling echo around us. But Aurick doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t even breathe. He stares at me as if he’s been frozen in time, unable to catch up to the present.

“What?” he chokes out.

“She’s pregnant,” I say through my teeth. “So, if you won’t ride with us to save my family, at least do it for the heir of your precious dynasty. Do it to get your baby out of that prison, Aurick.”

I don’t think I have ever seen this man so disheveled, so uncomposed. He’s unable to close his mouth or blink. All color drains from his face, leaving his skin a clammy shade of green.

“Red’s pregnant?” he finally asks.

I nod with a lump forming in my throat.

Aurick stumbles backward, being steadied by a few of his soldiers holding him upright. With only a few words, I’ve managed to turn his world upside down.

“I’m going to be a father,” he mutters to himself in a strained, absent voice.

“No, you’re not,” I reply darkly. “If we don’t come for them…they may not make it out alive.”

His furrowed brow smooths out as determination takes hold of him. Those piercing eyes slide to me without blinking.

“We’ll prepare the carriages tonight and leave at first light tomorrow.”

My shoulders, arms, and neck sag in bone-chilling relief. Thank God!

Runa throws her white hair off to one shoulder, slapping me on the back. “Darling, Skylenna. I have seen you transform through every season, haven’t I?”

“I guess so.” I shake her hand, nodding to Asena and Rydran as they go off to prepare.

“Let’s get some baths and then off to sleep, child,” Chekiss says quietly. “I’m going to see my son tomorrow.”

~

Asena and Runa dressme at first light.

They include different warrior offerings from each colony. A linen tunic, metal corselet, scale armor of dull iron plates, leather bindings to hold it all together, brass-colored pants, and leather thigh-high boots. It’s heavy and clanky, but I’ve never felt more terrifying.

“Thank you,” I say as Runa paints black markings over my eyes, brow, and cheekbones. Staring into a small mirror, I look like both a demon and an angel, foreign and ancient. My hair is pulled back halfway with small braids that are clamped together with white silver clasps, intricately designed.

“Oh, we’re not done yet!” Runa grins, nodding to Asena standing behind me in the small tent.

“We have some gifts,” Asena adds.

“What else?” I ask.

Asena holds out a war helmet, designed with flying dragons in blood red and gold. Then a headpiece of black diamonds shaped into claws or icicles that run down my forehead.

“These come from another world, gifted to us. From special heroes who gave everything to save their people. That’s Vindawolf’s headpiece that she wore into battle,” Asena explains, pointing to the dark tiara now on my head. “And that’s Dragas’s helmet. You can give it to Dessin when you see him.”

I look to her curiously.

“Dragas is a warghost, the most lethal warrior who has ever fought on any battlefield. Vindawolf is a great master of beasts. It’s said she is the only being alive that can command any creature. Even ones that are alphas like your—”

“RottWeilen,” I breathe.

Asena kneels before me. “DaiSzek is a descendant of the last living dragon that fought alongside our Fae king and Elven queen.”

“DaiSzek and Knightingale,” I say absently.

“Yes.” She nods, touching my hand to get my attention. “It’s said that the last living RottWeilen can breathe fire like his ancestor. But only if he has a strong enough bond with his pack. The fae king, DaiSzek, used to merely close his eyes and imagine his enemies burning for his dragon to know when to strike. Do you think you have a bond like that?”

My jaw drops open. I feel rude for laughing, but I do. It comes out like a cough.

“DaiSzek can’t breathe fire,” I snort. “We’d know it by now.”

“Have you ever asked him to?” Runa lowers herself to eye level with me.

“Well, no…”

“If he is the true alpha of his species, the last of his kind, then it should run hot in his blood—dormant until his pack rides into battle, believing he can torch a path through the blood and clashing swords.” Asena grabs my hands. “When you get out there, dashna, you’ll know when it’s time.”

I can tell how passionate she is about this, so I don’t argue it any further.

“These were DaiSzek and Knightingale’s swords, saved for the next warrior angels who took their places.” Runa pulls two gleaming swords out of a silk sleeve. Their handles are wrapped in shimmering leather and onyx stones. Matching. Huge. Sharper than DaiSzek’s teeth.

“How am I supposed to fight with this? Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful. But it’s heavy, and I don’t know if I’m that…”

“You won’t be holding it alone,” Asena says with that motherly tone. “Knightingale will fight with you. She’ll appear when you need her most.”

Goose bumps rise across my whole body, prickling my skin like tiny needles.

“Okay,” I say quietly.

After sheathing both swords in my belt, we exit the tent into the early morning sunrise. I blink in surprise at the forces dressed in full body armor, some shiny and new, others in vintage, as if they’ve traveled from the past to be here. They stand with their hands on their weapons, watching me quietly as they wait. Aurick steps forward to speak, only to appear confused and agitated as he comes to understand that they aren’t looking to him.

They’re looking to me.

I let my alert eyes wander over the warriors of different races and magical heritages, forming a stadium around me as they wait for my parting words.

A storm of adrenaline and tingles race through my body. My mind blossoms with emotion, sentiments I need to announce while I have their attention. It’s now or never.

“I know this war is what your prophecy has always predicted. But this is more than just words on a piece of paper to me. This is my family trapped behind those bars, taking lashings, being drugged, and abused.” I walk the perimeter of the circle they’ve fashioned, only DaiSzek and Knightingale pacing at my sides. “When you fight with me on this day…don’t do it for the faceless, nameless ancestors that wrote those words and predicted our actions. Do it for Niles, who has walked through fire to save his people. Do it for Ruth, who lost her legs because her loyalty is unwavering to those she loves. Do it for Dessin, who has lost the only good memories he has ever known in a fucking experiment!”

My heart hammers in my throat as I stare into the many eyes that follow me.

“And do it for me. Because my rage, my heartbreak knows no bounds. I may not know how deep my power runs, but I can promise you this. Those who stand in my way will see my true face. Judge, jury, and executioner. Those who raise their swords against us, will watch as I bring heaven and hell with me!”

The crowd of ancient colonials roars, throwing their fists and weapons in the air.

“And who will be my sword?” I scream over the sounds of crashing waves and stomping hooves. “Who will run with the will of God and free our brothers and sisters?!”

The army erupts into a whirlwind of emotions, screaming and grunting and bellowing to the sky in the greatest war cry I may ever hear in my existence.

And we’re ready.

Because off in the distance, we see something that Runa can identify before anyone else. It takes me a moment to remember what that darkness in the skies means.

We waste no time. I climb onto DaiSzek’s back and lead our army.