Wrenley sprints forward. “Caspian, move!”
I leap onto the bridge, the ground trembling beneath my feet as Emberlash’s soldiers surge behind us. The faintest flicker of hope rises as we near the tunnel’s entrance—a jagged maw in the side of the mountain. I glance back to see Emberlash, his whip ablaze, the flames hungrily licking its barbs.
“Go!” Wrenley yells, gripping my arm and shoving me toward the tunnel. The roaring wind howls around us as we dive into the darkness, the only light from luminescent jewels along the ceiling. “Just a little farther!”
Just a little farther. Just a little farther. My legs feel like they’re going to give out with every step, but if we make it just a little farther, Wrenley can bring this whole fucking cave system down for all I care?—
A scream tears through the air, and I turn. Wrenley’s flat on her stomach, struck down by Emberlash’s whip, which coils…
Around her bow.
With a maniacal laugh and a deft flick of his wrist, Emberlash cracks the whip back, the bow landing right at his feet.
Wrenley gives out a cry, arm outstretched.
“Well, now you’ve done it, haven’t you, little bird?” the bald bastard laughs. “As if Mommy wasn’t going to tear you apart piece by piece for that little rescue attempt, now you let dear Emberlash take your precious bow. No wonder Sira’s always babbling on about what a failure you are.”
“I’ll fuckingkillyou,” she snarls, briars jutting out around her.
Emberlash cracks his whip again, turning her briars to ash. The rest of his pack rushes to his side. Like Emberlash, they sport a variety of weapons, from maces to spiked gauntlets to crossbows.
“I don’t think you will, little bird,” Emberlash says with a smile. “You’ve got no bow. Your thorns are kindling.” He motions to his men. “And you’re outmanned two to twenty. If you can even count Pretty Boy as one.”
Despite the panic raging through my body, I can’t help myself. “Oh, trust me, I’ve been told I’m worth more than one.” I smirk, then give a pointed look to his whip. “But you, dear Emberlash, look like you may be…compensating for something.”
Emberlash’s face squints up, and he roars, “I’ve had enough of you two! Years of your arrogance! Of your annoying jokes and constant theatrics!”
“Oh no, sister.” I stick my lip out. “The nasty bald man doesn’t think we’re funny.”
But Wrenley’s done with my theatrics too. Her eyes are wide, rabid. She looks back and forth: the entrance blocked by Emberlash and his men, the ceiling, clustered with stalactites and shadows, and farther into the tunnel, where we’ll only get cornered. Her gaze lands on her bow, sitting at Emberlash’s feet.
“I won’t get taken alive,” she says lowly to me, to them. A warning. A threat.
“Fine by me. I’m tired of you both. Sira’s little pets. I don’t care what she does to me as long as I get the honor of stripping the skins from your spines,” Emberlash snarls.
I take a step back, my leg nearly going out from under me. Fuck.Come on, Cas. Think of something.But what have I got? A body barely able to stagger. Magic I’m too weak to wield.
I look to Wrenley, her muscles tensing. I know that stance. She’s not going to run anymore. She’s going to fight like a wildcat with whatever she has because she’d rather die in battlethan be taken to Sira as a prisoner. My gaze runs over Emberlash and his men, sending my heart into a sickening gallop. He’s right. Two to twenty, and I’m weak as a kitten and Wrenley’s without her bow or briars.
There’s only one thing that can save us now.
To save my sister, will I condemn the Vale?
“Wrenley,” I whisper, “Get back?—”
A rush of wind blows my hair. I feel it before I see it—a shadow soaring overhead, impossibly fast. The air crackles as something lands in front of us. It shakes the ground, sending up a cloud of shattered gemstones and dirt.
The dust settles, revealing a figure straightening from a crouch, towering between us and Emberlash. They’re holding a war hammer—no, wielding it like it’s an extension of their body. The weapon glints in the gemlight, massive and brutal, with veins of glowing energy running along its surface. The air around them feels charged, heavy, as if the hammer itself is drawing power from the earth beneath our feet. I can’t help but take half a step back, both awe and relief flooding through me.
The figure turns their head, just enough for me to catch a glint in their dark eyes, burning with purpose. “How about three to twenty?” Ezryn says. “I like our chances.”
13
Farron
Where once the grove outside Keep Oakheart had been a burntscar, it now bursts with life. Leaves in every shade of red and orange drift to the ground, and the air is thick with the scents of damp earth and ripe fruit. I stride across the familiar path, but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. Everything feels…smaller. Like the world I grew up in no longer fits the person I’ve become.
Since my journey to the Below with Caspian and the battle for Hadria, I haven’t had time to return to Autumn. I’m grateful for the opportunity to check on my realm. Yet something about being here gnaws at me. Maybe it’s the weight of what I left behind. Dayton and Rosie are in Castletree, without my protection.
