Chapter Twenty-Nine
Xandril
The driving rain and hissing steam are all I hear while I’m piling stones with the other men. Each time the water rises a bit more, it bubbles and steams around me, sapping my strength while scalding my skin. My fire comes from within and only reaches the surface where there are fissures between stone spikes. The rest of my body is vulnerable, but mercifully, the burns deaden my nerves, and as long as I don’t stop, I can keep pushing through.
I have to.
There are too many lives on the line. Too much heartbreak to prevent.
If you would save them, turn into the current,Archdruid Iskra’s ominous warning replays in my head again and again.
If this is what I can do for the reach, then I’ll give it everything.
“It’s no use!” one of the Iron soldiers calls out. “Fall back!”
“Rotted bastards,”one of my Wardens growls. “We’re with you, Your Highness.”
I nod, a silent understanding between us, and we get back to work. The rain is relentless, the wind no better. It feels like nature itself is working against us.
You think you can choke a river and not hear it scream?
What other choice do we have?
A strong gust of wind rips through the valley, sending the rain sideways. I can hardly see my hand in front of my face, but the creaking on the far side of the river is a sound I know well.
“Tree fall!” I roar as loud as I can. “Retreat!” I don’t know where it’s coming down exactly, but where one falls, there can always be more. This situation has passed the point of acceptable risk.
“Hurry! It’s too late,” I say, ushering the Wardens toward the riverbank. “Warn the town. Save as many as you can.”
Save Ingrid.
CR-AAACK!
A dark shape falls toward me, the Wardens leaping to safety while I jump back in the opposite direction. It’s the only way for me to go in the moment, and I crouch down to protect my non-spiked parts.
The tree falls with an explosion of splinters against the rocks, and an enormous wave that shoves me back into the half-built dam. I’m barricaded between the rocks and the fallen tree, water rushing around me, quickly rising to my shoulders.
Buy them time.
It’s all I could do in Goldenmere, it’s what I tried to do for the reach by taking down Farandir, and now, with my bride’s life in the balance, it’s more important than ever.
There’s no fire left in me, no matter how deep I try to dig, I’m chilled to my core. The water has taken all my heat, cold stillness taking the place of flowing warmth. This is my penance. My punishment for letting fear override my convictions. I should have listened to Iskra and myself. Now I’ve failed them all. The fight is lost—for me, at least.
But I think of Ingrid. Her smile that can chase away the darkest clouds, the light in her bronze eyes when she teases me, the tenderness in her touch when she holds me…in those moments, she is the stronger of us.
At least the reach will have her. I was never going to be enough, but Ingrid’s different. Ingrid has a healing touch, and I know I’m leaving Emerald in good hands.
Digging my claws into the tree bark, I haul the fallen trunk back towards me, using it to shore up the dam. The water’s up to my chin, and I fight to scramble over the log only to lose my footing when another surge of water rushes past. White fills my vision, then dark as the river pulls me beneath the churn.
I struggle for the surface, but I don’t know which way is up. My lungs burn. I gasp for air and get a mouthful of water. I swim harder, but something’s pulling at me. Tugging on me as I try to break out of its hold.
But the fire’s gone.
I’m too tired. Too heavy to fight back as the current drags me away.
Chapter Thirty
Ingrid
