CHAPTER 40
TYCHO
The first time they hit me with one of these arrows, it was sheer agony.
It’s no better this time around, especially since it knocks me off the horse. I’m distantly aware of Grey and Jax hitting the ground some-where beside me. One of the horses spooks and bolts, because I catch a hoof in the hip before the animal gallops away.
Xovaar’s screech fills the air, and I hear the chain rattle as he takes to the air. There’s a low murmur from the mob of Truthbringers, but I’ve already drawn my sword, though I know I won’t be able to fight themalloff. Not from the ground, not from my back. Not at all. But my training is too thorough, my will to live too strong. Beside me, I’m not surprised to discover that Grey has done the same.
“I can’t shoot,” Jax is gasping. “I can’ t—”
“It’s all right,” Grey is saying. “It’s all right.”
Xovaar hovers in the air above us. He’s at the end of his chain, his hands flexed, his talons ready. There was a moment I thought I might’ve convinced him to helpus. But I suppose it’s been too long. There’s been too much harm.
“You will see,” Karyl crows to the Truthbringers as the wind whips around us, stinging my eyes and stealing my breath. I wish Nakiis had more to offer, but any power he has left is barely a shimmer in my thoughts. “This scraver is under my control.”
Xovaar shrieks again, and there’s something desperate to the cry— as if calling for help, or shouting a warning. I’ve never asked Nakiis if there’s a language to their calls, and I don’t suppose I’ll ever get the chance.
“Finish this!” Karyl calls. “Xovaar,finish this.”
The scraver swoops down. I lift my sword. I brace for death.
But instead of driving those fangs and claws into one of us, the scraver launches himself at Lady Karyl, and he tears her apart.
CHAPTER 41
ALEK
As soon as the scraver starts ripping Karyl apart, Callyn whirls and presses herself against the center of my breastplate. The queen is beside me, gripping my armor, but she’s still staring. She’s gasping against her hand, almost keening at the violence of it. I catch them both automatically, but I can’t do anything but stare. It’s graphic and horrifying and quite possibly the most vicious thing I’ve ever seen.
Especially because the Truthbringers fill the creature with arrows before he’s even done.
Within seconds, Karyl is dead. The scraver is dead. Their bodies lie in a mangled heap in front of the horses.
The Emberish soldiers have surged up beside me and Callyn and the queen. They all have weapons drawn, as if the fight has shifted, as if there’s some possible way they can forge ahead and save their king.
But they can’t. The king has still fallen. So have Tycho and Jax. Their bodies lie in the lane, too.
And there’s still an army of Truthbringers to contend with. The queen’s shaking breath is very loud in the silence of the forest.
“Callyn,” I murmur. “We need to get the queen to safety.”
But as I say it, horns sound to our west— and then to our east. I snap my head up. I haven’t heard that sound in years. Beside me, the queen draws a sharp breath.
The soldiers exchange glances. “What is that?” says Sephran.
“Battle horns,” says Callyn. The shock in her voice echoes what I feel.
“The army,” I say.
“Myarmy,” says the queen. She swipes at her cheeks, peering between the trees.
The horns sound again, so close they’re nearly on top of us. They sound as if they’re coming from everywhere. Ahead of us, on the road, the Truthbringers are beginning to scramble. Their horses are whirling and bolting in every direction, trying to flee. It’s been years since Syhl Shallow was at war, but most everyone of fighting age knows what those horns mean.
And then I see the soldiers pouring between the trees, ready for battle.
At the front is Nolla Verin, the queen’s sister, shouting orders like a general.
