This is it. The last moments, and I grab Darian around the neck, pulling him in as I shout into his ear. “She might live.”
We won’t, but shemight. Just like Neela, and the children from the nursery.
Uncertain hope is better than a certain end.
Kaelen folds forward, his hands against the ground as he gasps for breath. Every movement is a struggle as he forces himself upright, as he draws free a single blade. His eyes stare forward, to the field. “She’s out there?”
The Lightbringers have rallied. Sleek, perfect lines face us, as if we’ve made no dent at all. As if these hours have been for nothing.
But we bought themtime. Time is all we could give them, and it has to be enough.
The noise cuts through the buzzing in my ear. It blasts across the field, a final call to arms, and the three of us stand together. Raise our weapons.
But the Lightbringers don’t move.
“What are they doing?” Darian stares out at them. At the endless rows. “They’re not moving.”
The horn sounds again. Once, twice, and then a third time.
There’s movement in the first rows of gold. Faces turn, turning away from us and facing the Veilspire. “They’re leaving.”
Nobody moves, so I say it again. Louder. “They’releaving.”
We watch, torn between suspicion and disbelief as those rows turn away from us, one by one. The mass of gold grows smaller, each turning to march away in perfect synchronicity. They flow back, splitting into two as they march past the space where Vaelion stood.
I can’t see anyone there now. “Lyra.”
They both turn to me. My mind reels, hope and terror warring with sheer fucking disbelief because it’s not possible. All I can say is her name. “Lyra.”
Kaelen bursts into movement.
He’s halfway across the field before Darian and I catch up with him, our breathing heavy as we race behind the rapidly retreating ranks of Lightbringers. Not even one upright golden form remains behind, as though they share a single mind.
Only bodies, and fewer of those the deeper we get across the field.
My heart beats so quickly I almost stumble. Lyra.
Lyra.
Lyra.
We’re coming.
The field is almost completely empty when we reach them, lines of gold vanishing back into the Veilspire. A circle of gleaming Lightbringer soldiers surrounds something in their center. They crouch in unison, aiming spears in our direction as we approach.
Kaelen slows, throwing out his hand to stop us.
“Kaelen Duskbane of Umbraxis,” he says roughly. “I want to speak with Commander Vaelion. Or… whoever is in charge.”
They exchange silent glances behind their golden helms. A shout comes from behind them, and they silently pull to the side, creating a space to get through even as the spears shift to swords, pressed against our necks.
A female Lightbringer is on her knees, her hands pressed against the broken armor of another soldier, laying on the ground. She barely looks up, her voice clipped. “You’re Duskbane?”
Hair the palest shade of gold spills out against the dirt, contained in a braid. And the blood that coats both Lightbringers, the blood soaking into the ground, is glowing.Gleaming.
“Lyra.” I try to shove my way past, but the swords press into my neck, stopping me from getting to her. “Let me through!”
When they don’t move, I roar at them. “I’m a healer!”
