Elora and I break apart, her eyes lighting up.
“Jarek!” I shout, running toward him and the wolves. He must have freed Alaric and Ruse on his way to us, but they follow at a safe distance, keeping the puppies in a tight herd between themselves and Jarek.
“We must hurry.” Jarek’s eyes go wide as he grabs my hand and trudges forward. We move past the bodies of the guards, past the wreckage from Elora’s magick and from mine.
I flick my wrists up, opening the communication between this realm and the next. Pain lances through my palms, but when I see the spirits are still there, it eases. All the women who fought beside me, some young, some ancient crowd around me. The magick in their souls swims with mine, lighting a path of gold light before me.
“You saved us,” I tell them.
Too many voices sound at once. I can’t understand what they say until Celia steps forward. Her eyes, the same dark brown as Sorin’s, her face much too young.
“You saved yourself, Sam.”She reaches to brush the curls from my face but her hand drifts through me, my energy much too low to keep the bridge between us strong. “Go.”
She gestures for me to follow Jarek and Elora and as I do, the other spirits form a line on either side of me. Whispering words of encouragement, of praise, of love. Not just for their families that remain on the other side, but forme.
Another horn sounds, this time much closer and Jarek doesn’t slow, his feet carry him swiftly through the woods just outside the castle grounds. He glances at me over his shoulder, and while I expect sadness or fury, instead he grins. I tilt my head, still stumbling behind him, when Elora catches my hand.
“Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
Elora tugs my hand, forcing me to stop. “I need to go find Sorin.” She glances back at the castle and as much as my heart hates it, I let her hand go. “I’ll see you?—”
“When I see you.”
Smiling, she turns and sprints just as Jarek grabs my arm. We weave our way out of the last of the brambles and that’s when I realize we’re heading for the cliffs on the east side of the castle.
“Jarek!”
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, until we’ve reached the cliff edge where the harbor waits below.
Bending, I brace myself on my knees, my chest heaving and lungs burning. But before I can scold Jarek for this waste of time, a final horn sounds. This time loud enough that I jump back and cover my ears.
Jarek cheers, screaming something in Scandavi I don’t understand. He waves his arms through the air and I follow his stare.
Down to the harbor to where a fleet of ships waits.
All bearing the white and yellow Scandavi flag.
We rush forward, glancing over the edge of the wall that separates the castle from the cliffside. The horns from earlierblasts again and climbing up the wall are dozens and dozens of men and women. They’re dressed in leathers and furs, their hair all braided, or shaved on the sides. Ink marks any exposed skin, and when they reach the ledge and topple over, their weapons shine as they begin to slice through the few remaining guards.
My breaths hitch.
They look exactly like Jarek.
A woman with blonde hair woven in several different braids climbs over the ledge several feet down from us, her hands bloody, but her face is bright.
Jarek sprints in her direction, and when the woman sees him, she drops her weapon and meets him halfway. My throat tightens as they embrace each other, her fingers clawing at his arms, as if she can’t possibly get him close enough.
My stomach knots as I walk toward them, fingers lacing together in front of me.
“Sam,” Jarek says through a laugh, “this is Cora. My younger sister.”
My stomach flips, my expression clearly confused because Cora and Jarek both laugh. “Oh. I’m so happy to meet?—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she says. The dark paint under her eyes only enhances their blue color, the color of seaglass, just like Jarek. Her Teravian isn’t terrible, but I strain my ear to make sure I’m hearing her correctly. “I’m just glad we made it in time to help your sorry arse.” She punches Jarek in the arm, and he grabs her to ruffle her hair. “The guards on the coast were not happy with our arrival, but we took care of them.” She smooths her braids, casting Jarek and I a wink.
“How is that you’re here?” The question is out before I mean to ask it.
