“I promised to protect them.”
“And you did.”
The bond trembles with the raw depth of her grief. But the truth remains unchanged. She cannot save them tonight. And if she stays here, the fire will never stop.
I make the decision then. She struggles weakly as I lift her into my arms.
“Threx—”
“You will hate me for this,” I murmur quietly.
Her hands clutch at my shoulders.
“We can’t leave them!” she screams.
“I will not lose you.”
The words leave my mouth with quiet finality. My wings spread wide as I turn away from the burning square.
Behind us the council hall collapses inward with a deafening roar, sending a towering column of sparks into the sky as the final symbol of Briarthorn’s authority disappears beneath the devouring blaze.
I carry Elowen away from the destruction despite her desperate protests.
She clings to me as we move through the smoke, her body shaking with sobs.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers brokenly.
I hold her tighter.
“You are alive,” I reply quietly.
I do not carry her far. Only far enough that the flames cannot reach us. The marsh beyond the village swallows the road in darkness, tall reeds whispering in the night wind while Briarthorn burns against the horizon behind us.
By the time we stop among the wet grasses, the town we left behind has already begun collapsing into ruin.
Elowen’s sobs do not quiet when the flames finally vanish behind the wall of reeds. If anything, the distance only makes them worse.
Her fingers clutch the front of my shirt as though she might fall apart if she lets go, her entire body trembling in my arms while the glow of the burning village stains the clouds behind us.
The power moving through the bond remains unstable, surging with every broken breath she drags into her lungs.
“I killed them,” she says again, her voice dissolving into a raw, hysterical sob.
“No,” I answer immediately.
She shakes her head against my shoulder.
“Yes!” she cries. “You saw it. Every time I was afraid the fire spread. Every time someone screamed it got worse. Threx, I couldn’t stop it.”
Her hands grip my shoulders harder as though she is trying to push herself away from me, but I tighten my hold before she can create even an inch of distance.
“You will not push me away,” I tell her quietly.
“I burned their homes,” she gasps. “Their children were there. Their families?—”
“They ran,” I interrupt gently.
“You don’t know that!”
