Teryn’s energy pulsed from that direction.
Cora’s heart thundered as she rushed toward the stairwell, keeping close to the wall to evade the notice of the other fighters. Not that any were unoccupied enough to pay her much heed. She reached the top of the stairs, her dagger at the ready, and proceeded down on quick feet. She pulled up short at the sight of Teryn. He and one of Darius’ men were locked in armed combat. Blood covered one of Teryn’s shoulders, his gambeson split open to reveal crimson soaking the linen of his shirt. His left hand was wrapped in what looked like a torn piece of cloth.
Yet the enemy soldier bore wounds too. One eye was slashed and swollen, a gash on his cheek just beneath it. His helm was gone, as were several other pieces of his armor, but he fought relentlessly. Teryn had the high ground and pursued the man farther and farther down the stairs, but with Teryn standing between her and his opponent, his back facing her, there was nothing she could do to help—
No, that wasn’t true at all.
She released a slow breath, anchored her feet on the stone beneath her, and poured her focus onto the blood-splattered stair behind the enemy. Without even bothering to close her eyes, she lifted a foot, leaned forward…
And planted her soles on the intended step.
Teryn’s eyes widened slightly when he spotted her, but he didn’t falter. He kept the man’s full attention as Cora swiped out with her dagger and slashed the backs of the man’s knees. With a grunt, his legs buckled. Cora retreated down a few steps and Teryn plunged his sword into the man’s throat.
Cora’s chest heaved as she watched the tip of the blade protrude from the back of the man’s neck. Teryn withdrew his sword, and the enemy crumpled onto the stairwell. Cora kept her eyes locked on Teryn, not the dying man or the pool of blood quickly slicking the stairs. Instead, she took in his face, the spatter of blood flecked over his skin, the wounds he’d sustained on his arms.
She sagged with relief to see him devoid of life-threatening injuries.
He assessed her with the same relieved intensity. Her name left his lips as he sheathed his sword. “Cora.”
She ran the rest of the way up the stairs to him, skirting around the man and the blood, until she collided with his chest, his arms around her. The discomfort of his hard breastplate against her cheek didn’t matter. Only he did.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and spoke into her hair. “This is the last of the soldiers who got inside the halls.”
She pulled away, knowing they didn’t have much time to waste. “The ambush has begun.”
“Majesty.” Alden appeared at the top of the stairs, followed by more of the royal guard.
It was then Cora heard the relative silence. The conflicts in the hallway above had ceased.
Alden gave her a knowing look. “Is it time?”
Captain Alden and the royal guard knew what came next. Knew what Cora had promised to do. Cora gave her a solemn nod. As much as Cora wanted to wait until every enemy fighter was felled, she couldn’t linger. Not if she wanted to fulfill her vow to Ailan and lock Darius out of El’Ara.
“Our victory is secure,” Alden said, tone brimming with confidence. “We will finish this.”
Teryn and Cora exchanged a glance. If they left now, Teryn would need to call off the wraiths. They couldn’t risk leaving them to fight without Teryn’s guidance. When they’d served Morkai, they hadn’t seemed to care who they killed, only that they fought.
“You can depend on us,” Alden said.
“Let’s go, then.” Teryn sheathed his sword and extended his uninjured palm toward Cora.
She grasped his hand, gave it a squeeze, and worldwalked them back to the battlement. The conflict was quieter now, and as they looked over the wall at the castle grounds, they found only a few groups engaged in combat, some with soldiers from the garrison, others with the wraiths. Misty white continued to fill the field, but most of the wraiths had ceased fighting. Those who’d already been felled were unable to reanimate and had returned to their mindless meandering.
Regardless, Alden was right. The victory was already theirs; Cora could trust her soldiers to end this.
Teryn stepped closer to the parapet and unwrapped the bandage from around his palm. An angry red line marred his skin, but it wasn’t actively bleeding. He held his hand out, palm to the air, and whispered, “At ease. Your battle is won. Your vengeance secure.”
The wraiths stilled on the field. Some disappeared at once, while others simply lost their bloodlust and proceeded to slowly wander.
“When I call you next,” Teryn said, “it will be to send you home.”
He faced her then, nodding. This was all they could do for Ridine right now. Their next task lay at Centerpointe Rock.
Again, Cora took his hand. Closing her eyes, she pictured a large flat stone amidst a sea of green.
* * *
Even after five hundred years,Ailan’s body remembered how to fight. Her limbs moved in fluid motions, even as her muscles screamed. The rhythm of battle was ingrained in her bones, and with the return of her youth and memories came everything she’d ever learned long ago.
