She barely realized Draven had taken her bow from her hands until she felt one of his swords in hers. She whirled around and he grabbed an arrow and sent it flying into the man running at her back. Another man ran at her, and she bolted down the sand where she slid and slashed at the man’s kneecaps.
Draven was watching her when she stood. She strode a few steps in his direction and tossed his sword back, to which he did the same with her bow.
“Tempting,” he growled, eyes blazing through her.
The noise of someone shouting diverted both their attentions. Draven shoved the skull back over his face. They were separated, Draven running in the opposite direction towards where Balandria had been. Aydra’s sword clashed with another overhead. She kicked him into the surf and stepped on his hand before he could slash at her. Just as her blade landed in his chest, she caught site of someone, not of the strangers, falling to his knees.
Her eyes did a double-take up the beach, and her heart sank.
“No!”
The stranger had Dunthorne’s curly hair in his hand. Aydra pulled an arrow quickly— but it landed in the man’s neck too late.
His sword had already crushed into Dunthorne’s side.
Aydra ran and dove to the sand, her knees landing behind him the moment Dunthorne fell sideways. She cradled him desperately in her arms, pleading with him to stay conscious.
“No—No, hang on Dunthorne—” she begged, grasping his hand. “Stay with me! You’ll be okay—HELP!”
But everyone around her was too occupied to escape to her. Aydra pulled him further onto her lap, holding his beautiful face in her hand. His eyes were slowly fading before her. She swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in her throat as she held him. “Stay with me,” she told him. “It’s just a scratch. You’ll make it—DRAVEN!”
Dunthorne’s dark golden skin glistened in the sunlight. He squeezed her hand and tried to swallow as the blood began to come up in his throat.
“Tell my king—”
“No, no, you will tell him yourself—DRAVEN!”
She didn’t know where he was, but she shouted his name anyway, hoping someone would hear her desperate cries.
“Will you sing it?” she heard him whisper.
Her stomach knotted at his request. She drew a raspy breath as she slowly accepted the little time he had left. Her hand wiped the tear off his cheek, and she gave him a small smile. “Yeah… Yeah, I can sing it,” she whispered.
“From once a wind… and brisk of leaves—”
The Wyverdraki song flowed from her jagged breaths. Halfway through, she looked up, finding Lex standing a few feet away, seemingly frozen to the spot. Aydra’s eyes pleaded at her, hoping she would understand to find Draven.
Lex’s feet moved, and Aydra turned back to Dunthorne’s fading face. She squeezed his hand again as the last of it came from her breath.
“Set me free,” Dunthorne whispered with her.
Her jaw tightened, and he reached up to her face.
“Save my King,” he breathed.
She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she didn’t have time to question him. She nodded desperately and kissed his palm. “I will,” she promised.
With a final breath, Dunthorne’s life left his eyes. Aydra’s head hung low, and she laid him down onto the sand as swords fell to the ground around her.
And then the scream she’d least wanted to hear filled her ears.
Her heart shattered as the noise of Draven’s shout sounded around her as an echo. His knees slid to the ground on the other side of Dunthorne, the skull over his face skidding over the sand as he threw it off him. She barely heard the words he shouted. Draven grasped Dunthorne’s vest in his hands, pulling him up off the sand as though it would snap him back to life.
More tears fell down her face as Draven surrendered to the truth of his friend’s death, and he buried his head into Dunthorne’s chest.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
THE BATTLE BARELY lasted an hour.
