With the ground splitting and now the added defense, we’re winning.
Everything changed so fucking fast. Not a half hour ago, things looked bleak as shit.
“They’re getting their asses handed to them!” one of the men shouts.
Then one of the men beside me calls out, “Captain!”
Jerking my attention, I look where he’s pointing below the wall. I follow his line of sight and realize what he’s seeing. There’s a rift, and it’s stretching fast, heading straight for us.
“Shit.” My helmet drops to the ground with a clang.
We knew there was a risk of the splits making it to Cliffhelm, but Ryatt tried to plan it so that wouldn’t happen. Tried to hone our soldiers’ magic so it was far enough away. But clearly, now that Slade’s rot has been unleashed, it doesn’t want to beleashedagain.
I feel all the blood drain from my face when I realize that the crack isn’t going to stop spreading. And it’s not a small fissure, either, it’s big.
Then the wall starts to shake.
I lift my head, bellowing as loud as I can. “Get off the fucking wall!”
My roaring order makes the men scramble from their stations and start racing for the stairs. I yell at them to move their asses, counting each of them, attention snapping from them to the rift heading toward our cliff.
There are three men left when it reaches the base. The ground jostles so hard I nearly get tossed right over the side. The men almost topple too, but they catch themselves while struggling to keep running for the stairs.
Then the wall fuckingsnaps.
One of our soldiers isn’t fast enough. He goes careening off the split, and the rest of the wall starts to give way.
“Run!” I roar.
The other two haul ass, but the wall is sinking, and it drags another soldier with it, his scream soon cut off. The last man nearly falls too, but I leap forward, fist closing around his arm. I yank him up and haul him toward the stairs with a forceful shove. Then I jump down the stairs behind him just as they start crumbling beneath my fucking boots.
Debris shoots through the air, and right as I slam to the ground on the balls of my feet, there’s another loud crack, and the guard tower starts tipping like a falling tree.
It’s going to flatten us.
The soldier I yanked with me stumbles, but I grip his arm again and keep him upright. “Go!”
The ground shakes so much it feels like the whole cliff could give way any second, and that thought fills me with fear colder than this fucking snow.
Rissa.
I race past the armory, barking out orders for the men to keep running, to push harder, to go faster.
“Don’t stop!” I thunder as the ground thunders back, and I can hear more of the cliff toppling behind us.
Then shadows appear, and I look up to see timberwings overhead. They start swooping down, the soldiers on the saddles trying to grab for my men and yank them up. When there’s another crash, I look over my shoulder and see the armory starting to fall too.
All of Cliffhelm is going to turn to rubble. I need to get to Rissanow.
One timberwing comes down in front of me, but I ignore the soldier on its saddle and keep running for the barracks. When I reach the door, I practically rip it off the hinges as I call her name, looking around frantically.
But she’s not here.
She’s not fucking here.
A terrified bellow rips from my throat. “Rissa!”
Where is she?Where the fuck is she?
