The hum in the air goes stronger, until it presses in against me, and I can barely breathe.
That red-and-purple scraver lifts his head, and he looks right at me and the queen.
My heart seems to stop. Panic floods my chest, those sparks and stars threatening to overtake my vision. We’re unarmed. We have nothing.
But we have magic.
—Magesmith, says the scraver.
Without warning, he leaps away from the king, and aims directly at us.
Light explodes in my eyes. For an instant, the world goes completely silent, or maybe that hum of magic just swells to a volume that drowns out everything else. It’s more than what happened when I defended Alek. I don’t know if this is my magic, or if it’s the queen, or even if it’s the king—just that it overwhelms every sense I have. Maybe it’s all of us. I don’t feel the cold, I don’t feel the wind, I don’t feel the impact. I just see blinding, vivid white, and it seems to go on for an eternity.
And then it ends, snapping away so hard that I’m thrown back against the palace wall. The queen strikes the stone beside me.
When I blink, I realize the scraver has been thrown back—and far, too. At least a hundred feet. They all have, because the king and the other men have found their feet, and they’re now standing with us, weapons drawn, ready to defend.
The scravers are rising from the field. My breath catches, because I still don’t know what happened.
But a shriek echoes from overhead, and the ones remaining on the field look up. The red-and-purple one shrieks right back at them, and Ithink maybe more have arrived to lend their strength to the attack. But then his wings snap wide, and he launches into the sky. The others quickly follow.
But a voice drifts back to us as the cold wind swirls away, ice melting almost as quickly as it formed.
—We know where to find you, magesmith.
The queen sucks in a breath and looks up at the king—but something in my gut warns that the scraver was talking tome.
King Grey is looking at the queen. “Lia Mara. Are you well? Is Sinna—”
“Sinna is fine,” she says in a rush, talking over him. She grabs his hands, looking at the stripes of blood on his forearms. “Grey—Grey, you’re hurt—we need—”
“I’m fine.” He takes hold of her hands and presses them between his own. “Lia Mara. I’mfine.”
She looks at their hands, and that seems to settle her. “I heard him. They’ll come back.”
The king’s face is grim, and he glances at the door to the palace. “And this will embolden the Truthbringers.”
Queen Lia Mara pulls a hand out from between his, and she presses it to his cheek. “We’ll stand against them,” she whispers.
I expect him to lean in and kiss her, the way he did earlier—but he doesn’t. A muscle in his jaw twitches, and something about it makes my gut clench.
But he looks to me. “The queen and I must check the wounded. Return to Sinna, Callyn.”
I glance at the queen, and she nods.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I say. And then I turn for the door, ready to do my duty.
CHAPTER 47
TYCHO
After the conflict in Briarlock, Jax and I worked with Grey to strip fallen soldiers of their weapons and armor. It’s grim, gruesome work, and I should probably do it now, too.
But he heads off onto the training fields with Lia Mara, and something in the air tells me not to follow, so I don’t. I grab Malin’s sleeve when it looks like he’s about to.
“Let them go,” I say.
Off to our right, Callyn is about to go through the door back into the palace.
