They darted around the bend, and sure enough, there were the remains of the dilapidated village Aya had seen inher dreams.
“What the hells,” Aya heard Will mutter to himself from behind her.
Aya spurred their horse onward, through the village, toward that basin where Evie had revealed herself. She could just make out the edges of it, the rocks that descended downward, where the stone-carved benches would be.
A deafening crack exploded across the sky, the entire expanse lighting up with blinding lightning. Their horse let out a terrified neigh as it bucked and reared, its head thrashing from side to side.
Aya tried to maintain her grip on the mare, but she was too wild, too scared. She and Will careened to the ground.
Another loud crack sounded, the mountain trembling beneath them as they got to their feet.
“A storm?” Will asked incredulously, his brow furrowed as he took in the sky. The wind whipped around them, that stillness that had been in the air gone.
“That’s not a storm,” Aya yelled. She grabbed his wrist and tugged him forward, toward the edge of the basin. She lurched to a halt as she caught sight of the pit.
There, in the center, dressed in robes of navy, stood at least a dozen Diaforaté in a circle, their arms lifted toward the sky.
And in the center, her face turned toward the Beyond with a vicious smile, was Evie.
“It’s not a storm,” Aya repeated. “It’s the gods.”
69
Aidon tried to keep his hands from trembling as he stood on the Wall, his eyes scanning the fight frantically. He’d taken down one Diaforaté already, the telltale flaring of their magic like a beacon for his arrow.
Steady, his father’s voice murmured in his mind. But no matter how much Aidon tried to channel the calmness of their archery sessions together in the woods, he could not find it. Not when he was watching a battle unfurl beneath him, not when he knew his sister and his friends were in the thick of it.
Another shimmer of magic. Aidon fired.
They’d realized who he was targeting soon enough.
He cut a glance toward Aster. “Go find Dauphine,” he commanded. Josie had Aleissande and Cole, but Dauphine…she was alone on that field.
“She was, um…with me this morning,” he added, his face heating as he realized Dauphine’s scent was likely still on him. He felt foolish, talking to a wolf, but Aster fixed him with an unimpressed look before she galloped off.
Silver linings, he supposed.
Aidon took a deep breath as he turned back to the battle.The other archers on the lower stretch of the Wall were still focused on the back lines of the Kakos army, the Caeli helping their arrows soar, and gods, there were so many from the Southern Kingdom;how were there so many?
A flicker of light caught Aidon’s eye, and he drew his bow immediately, his body pivoting to the left as he searched for the Diaforaté. His gaze landed on a man with blond hair and pale skin that was decaying in patches. But the man’s focus wasn’t fixed on the battle.
It was on Aidon.
“Fuck,” Aidon swore. He shot his arrow just as the man flung his arms forward, a massive gust of air slamming into the Wall beneath him.
Aidon teetered as the Wall shook, his boots slipping. His body jerked sideways as the Wall beneath him crumbled, his arms flailing as he began to fall.
“Fuck!”
He pivoted as he fell, the skin of his palms ripping as he scrambled for purchase. He caught himself on a large stone that jutted out, his breath snagging as he stared down at the drop.
There was no way he’d survive falling from this height.
Aidon looked back toward the top of the Wall. The rock above his had given way, leaving nothing but dirt and granite from the mountain behind it.
He didn’t know if it would hold, but…he had to try.
With the battle raging on below him, Aidon started to climb.
