What was that, exactly?
Every drop of blood, every bone in me burned to return to the castle. To the armory where I’d left Evie, all tears and regret. To hold her again. To drown myself in her rose scent. To tell her I would keep her safe, somehow. To mend what I had broken, because I had fucked it up again.
I had hurt her to prove another moot point. That she ought to stay away for her own sake.
But she was not afraid of the storm anymore. She would walk straight into it, and I could not stop her. I could not stay away, and neither would she. And I did not want her to. Which made me as foolish as she was.
So I had only one thing in mind. End this and return to my little doe.
My blade struck the steel of a rioter. I pressed forward until he stumbled, then drove the blade into the gap between his cuirass and breeches. The wet squelch was exquisite.
Another sword swung for me. I ducked and thrust out my hand. My attacker froze mid-strike, snared in my magic, and he screamed, “The Court Wizard!” before I cut his head clean.
More blood. More steel on steel. The sound followed me as I carved through the crowd. I had not fought with a blade in years, and gods, I had missed it, the simplicity of it, the way each kill coaxed the storm inside me.
But I was also a touch rusty, which earned me a few cuts and warm blood trailing down my face. It only rattled the storm harder.
Oh, they were about to see something unimaginable. A storm so bright it would blind every soul on thisbattlefield.
I could not wait to watch them burn.
Up ahead, fire writhed and curled in the air like flaming tentacles, devouring all in their reach. Thalen and his battlemages.
I joined them, swinging my blade in rhythm with their quarterstaffs, cutting down any fool who dared step close.
“How long are we supposed to hold them?” Thalen shouted across the clash.
“Not for long!” I called back, my sword buried in someone’s ribs.
The corpse clung to the blade before I shoved it aside and let it fall with a clank.
And then I saw him through the smoke.
Thorne looked every inch the paladin he fancied himself to be. Broad-shouldered, polished, dark blond hair turning white, swollen with his own importance. All sword, all shield, no humility. He carried himself like a man convinced the world should part simply because he had arrived.
But anyone with sense could see past his gleaming armor to the blood splatters crusted across it. Mud smeared his face. Blood coated his shield. Bits of flesh clung to the notches of his blackiron sword.
“The Court Wizard comes out to banish us for once and for all!” he howled as our blades met. His voice was loud, brash, meant to impress his rabble. “Will you turn this army to ash like you did the last time?”
He pressed hard against my blade, forcing me to shift my stance. “Not… yet!” I twisted aside and slashed at him.
He dodged and stepped back. “You know what I think, Magister? I don’t think you have any power at all. I think last time you and your magi conspired with evil beyond your ken. No mage alive can call forth the power of the Heavens.”
Oh, how little he knew. Our swords clashed again.
I was going to show him exactly how much power I carried.
I lunged and thrust out my arm toward him. Lightning would have struck before the thought finished forming, butThorne was quick. Golden cracks of light pulsed across his shield as he drove it forward, chanting, “By sacred right, I break the false arcane!”
A burst of golden force slammed into me. My ribs felt struck from within. The world tilted as I hit the ground.
My senses warped. Copper pooled in my mouth.
Thorne paced around me like a circling shark.
“It’s all a lie, isn’t it?” he spat. “You don’t have the strength to protect this castle. It will be ours before moonrise.”
I snarled. I didn’t strike, not yet. I knew my task. I had to wait for the horn.
