The battle line has drawn closer to the palace. Nothing stands between this building and the Allaji but an open field. We must find Micah and get him to safety before the shifters swarm around the house. If we fail, it will be almost impossible to sneak through the garden.
I refuse to dwell on the what ifs. We will find the king and get him out of here.
Holding my head high, I march into the mayhem, with Borin at my side and Terro flanking me. Swords clash, power sizzles, and ravenous animals tear apart flesh, but I don’t flinch. The war calls to me, summoning me to fight for my people and our land. I will answer with violence.
A wolf charges for us, and Borin raises his hand. Light emanates from his palm, blinding the beast. I pull on the gift of a Glacio, and icicles whiz through the air, impaling the beast’s soft fur. The wolf releases an ear-piercing wail and falls to the ground. I draw my sword and rally an Elector’s lightning. My fingers spark with the power as I forge my way into the thick of the battle. I slash through a tiger, splattering my armor with its blood. A bear barrels toward me, and I slam my electric hand into its neck. It convulses on the ground, its human and animal forms flashing in and out. I step over it, leaving it to suffer and die.
Giving in to my strong instinct to find Kyron, I push my way throughthe clashing bodies, hacking at the Allaji and disabling them with the gifts of the Khiros. My anger wells at the sight of my people’s slaughter. Chunks of flesh ripped from their bodies and their veins spewing crimson. They lay dead amongst the unclothed Allaji, sacrificed because a kingdom wasted their resources and demanded to take ours. I grasp my rage, letting it fuel my vicious actions.
Blood splashes across the visor of my helmet, blocking my view. I yank it off, discard it into the carnage, and plunge my blade in the belly of a leopard. In the midst of my anger, warmth and darkness caress my frayed nerves. I latch onto the power, pivoting until I lock gazes with onyx and amber.
Kyron blasts the animal leaping for him with a burst of flame, setting it on fire. He shows no signs of slowing down or surprise that I’ve joined the battle. The prince tilts his head to the side, gesturing to Micah fighting beside him. Blood drenches the king, his pristine clothes nothing but soiled rags.
I charge through the crowd and work my way into the king’s view. He stills for a moment, and I yell over the chaos. “We need to get you out of here.”
“No! I won’t leave them to fight without me,” Micah says, thrashing his sword and calling on the aid of the earth with his power.
I grab his arm and turn him to face me. “They won’t back down until they kill you. If you want to save our people, we need to leave. Now.”
His green eyes soften, but his lips remain a stiff scowl. His entire being clashes with what he must do and his desire to stay. We don’t have time for him to war with his conscience, so I reach for him, but fall short.
Boren grabs his hand. Micah’s eyes go wide at the sight of his parah on the battlefield that is our home.
“What are you doing here? I told you to stay in the safe room,” Micah asks, worry lacing his tone.
“Please, Micah. We must go, my love,” Borin says, pulling him away from the fighting around us.
I watch as the king’s resolve crumbles. It doesn’t matter how strong his convictions, how much he believes his place is with his people, battling to save our kingdom, he can’t deny the plea of his parah. There is no emotion to compare it to. This is what Borin needs, and Micah is compelled to give it to him.
I’ve been in that same situation with Kyron. It’s impossible to deny him.
“Go!” Kyron commands, lunging forward and swinging his sword. The blade slices through the neck of a jaguar, its head rolling to the ground.
“As soon as we are out of here, fall back and let them take the palace,” I say to Kyron.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Kyron gives a curt nod, and we hold each other’s stare for a moment longer than we should. All the love and admiration he holds for me is conveyed in that single look. I pray he feels how much I reciprocate his affections.
I clench Micah’s shirt and yank him forward. We race through the battle, Borin, Terro, and the others clearing a path for me and the king. We shoulder our way to the untouched field between the rear of the fight and the palace. We break the line and relief washes over me. Every step takes us further from harm’s way.
“No!”
I whip around.
Micah dashes for me, jumping between me and a hawk. As it nosedives, it spreads its wings wide and extends its razor-sharp talons in front of its body. The claws pierce through Micah’s chest. Blood flows from the puncture wounds as the bird lifts him from the ground. It bores its beady eyes into the king as they rise into the air.
The world stops. The battle fades to nothing more than the tinny sound of swords clashing far away. My heart turns to lead in my chest, unable to beat. What feels like my last breath rips from my lips. The hawk squawks, the shrill sound piercing my ears. And then it releases the King of Lucent.
Nineteen
The hawk soars away with a triumphant shriek.
The Allaji retreat.
Micah falls from the sky.
