Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Alianna stopped trying to count. She couldn’t keep up. When she realised what was happening, she felt the blood drain from her face.
Those were Rannirr’s armies, making the jump, now that they had felt Rionan’s power flowing from Savangrad and knew that he was back here.
How many Xanthians had he just transported here?
Twenty-five thousand. Korva said he commanded twenty-five thousand.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
She looked to her feet, trying to steady her trembling legs as she tried to turn and find Ulreah. He had been right beside her.
The ground on which she stood – on which the warriors ran – was dark, hard soil, with cracks running through it like it had been void of life and water for some time. No lush green grass, no flowers. As she looked up, she noticed that the silhouette of the trees here looked to be lifeless. There were no leaves, no foliage. Just spiny, desolate branches.
Suddenly, from the forest, a bolt of red light shot for them, spearing through the night air. Alianna watched in horror as it sailed towards a group of charging Xanthians, who ran towards what could only mean sudden death, with no hesitation. No fear. She felt herself going to cry out, to shout for them to stop, to look up, to move out of the way – when the bolt of light, such a deep red that it reminded her of ruby red blood, met an invisible barrier. There was a loud boom as it hit thisshield, which rippled through the air, a yellow pulse that surrounded the oncoming Xanthian host.
She felt her heart flutter when she realised who was protecting his men as they charged, despite knowing they were vastly outnumbered.
Rionan.
“Come on,” came a voice behind her. Somebody grabbed her arm and whirled her around, catching her fist as it instinctively sailed towards the air towards the unseen person. “What are you doing? We need to get to the high ground,now.”
Ulreah stood before her. Lightning crackled through his eyes, and a wind that Alianna could not feel whipped through his hair, like he was being blessed by the god of storms himself.
Alianna nodded, casting a final look back at the soldiers, wishing she had spent more time getting to know them. Who they were, what their stories were. These men, so willing to run to their deaths, to defend their land and their Lord.
Further bolts of light cut through the air, slamming against Rionan’s barrier. Huge blasts of red, purple, and blue. She noticed the faintest crack splinter its way through his shield. That is when she remembered this crucial detail.
Rannirr had the power of two Lords of Xanthia, because he had already killed one of them and taken over his power.
Rionan only had the power of one.
She could not watch. She could not see what happened. They were trusting her – all of them – to move.
Rionan’s forces started shooting their own magic through the air at the oncoming enemy war band, and the sound of feet hitting the ground as each army ran towards one another filled her ears. The rallying cries of warriors, of generals, all blending into a horrific crescendo. Alianna remembered exactly what was supposed to be happening. A distraction, while she got into Savangrad, and got close enough to the Well to throw the stone in.
She grabbed Ulreah’s hand, and they ran for the palace that awaited them.
Storm clouds whirled overhead, swirling above the palace as they drew near. In any other circumstance, Alianna would have baulked from this and wanted to be nowhere near those clouds when theyopened up on the world below them. But she knew that this was of Ulreah’s doing, and that he was a mighty warrior, capable of striking down such intense lightning bolts that he could wipe out vast amounts of enemies in a single blow. She just needed to stay with him.
They got to an entry door, and Ulreah slammed his shoulder into it, hissing when it didn’t budge. He motioned to her, his motions not frantic, but urgent. “You,” he said. “Open the door.”
