Then, with a tortured glance towards Joby and Tanith, he’s gone, stepping backwards into shadow. When Brielle looks over to the fleet and the armada, she sees a swirl of shadow appearing then reforming, over and over, as people from his crew are dropped back on the ship from the gaping maw of the ocean. Of course. He chooses to save his people over fighting the enemy. He chooses individual lives over a bloody victory. A true leader. She blows out a breath. And now he’s left two of his inner circle in her hands, entrusted her with their precious lives. She cannot fail him, cannot failthem.
Looking to the skies, she sees Skanni take down another wyvern, slowly gaining the advantage. One drake takes out three with a plume of flame, their smoking carcasses descending to crash into an enemy ship. But it’s not enough. There are still too many. They cannot come to Brielle’s aid. It’s all down to her.
She looks back at Joby, his hand on Tanith’s scales, a pool of dark blood growing under her. She’s breathingout steam, her eyes fluttering closed, and she knows that even if Joby does coax Tanith into her human form she may not survive. Her wounds may be too great. Brielle needs to buy them both time.
She strides forward, crouching beside Joby. Tanith doesn’t even flinch at a hunter, a witch, so close to her. A worrisome sign. ‘I’m going to work on her here, Joby. You keep talking to her, keep her calm.’
He nods, barely looking at her and continues telling a story in his soft burr. She rises, moving round him to Tanith’s flank, assessing the deepest wounds. She is no healer. But she knows the basics of the witch magic from her training … Maybe it’ll be enough. It has to be.
She leans down, placing a hand on Tanith’s glistening bronze scales, and closes her eyes. She forms the witch words she knows for healing, for life and mending and hope. She pours her magic in, sensing the flow and pull of her blood, pumped by her heart, the slow trickle of her life waning. She imagines stitching, weaving. Binding Tanith back together, pulling her raked flesh back together.
Tanith chuffs, claws pawing the ground and Brielle remembers the burning sensation of having a deep wound sewn up. So she channels cool, a breeze of winter chill, the first frost of the season, and Tanith huffs in what sounds like relief. Brielle pulls back her hand, opens her eyes and sees the wounds have stopped bleeding.
Then Joby chokes out a gasp and Tanith begins to transform. Her drake flanks shrink, her whole beinggrowing smaller and smaller, until her scales seem to disintegrate entirely. And there, in its place, is a young woman. Slightly different from how Tanith first appeared as a human, now with shorter bronze hair, scales still glistening more obviously over her skin. She curls on her side and Joby gently lifts her into his arms. She says quietly, ‘I remember you … from before. We know each other, don’t we?’
Joby releases a shuddering breath, blinking down at her. ‘We do, Tanith. We do.’
Just then, there is a roar from the sky, a drake cry echoing across the isle. Brielle’s breath catches in her throat. The drakes and their witches are victorious. The few wyvern left are fleeing into the thunderous clouds, shrieking with rage as they fly. But, below, she finds the armada regrouping, breaking through Eli’s fleet to reach the shores of Ennor. Soon it’ll be a battle for the land. Brielle has to get Tanith back to the castle, and soon.
She moves towards Joby and holds out her own arms. ‘May I?’
Joby turns to her, features drawn in lines of fear, and Brielle knows he doesn’t want to hand Tanith over. But he relents, pouring her slender frame gently into Brielle’s arms. ‘I will meet you at the castle. After … If …’
‘Go and fight,’ Brielle says firmly. ‘Trust me now with her. Fight for the time I’ll need to heal her.’
Neither of them say it, but if that armada reaches the land invasion is inevitable. They do not have the forces to resist them. Now it is about fortifying the castle,drawing everyone vulnerable back, and just hoping that Lowri and their fledglings can succeed with reforming the wards.
‘Hunter, I owe you a life debt,’ Joby rumbles softly, grasping her shoulder. ‘If I do not see you again, safe travels in this life and the next.’
Brielle fractures slightly, but holds it all inside as she nods, then whispers the witch word and traverses.
The last thing she sees is Joby’s face, hope lifting his features, before he’s crossing back towards the town, to the final battle that could end them all.
inesh and dreska appear ina swirl of magic. Lowri inhales, looking down at Amma, and finds their fingers interlaced. The cracks in the wards have been repaired, for now. But she cannot push them out to encompass the town of Ennor without help. Only the power of three will do.
Dreska bites her lip as Inesh raises her chin, and it strikes Lowri how very like the two sides of Brielle they are: one hesitant, no doubt calculating quickly, each scenario playing out in her head; the other is grounded in courage, methodical and unwavering. Her heart twists for them, for what she is about to ask of them.
‘I know you’ve both had a long journey from the Spines. I know you will be tired and frightened. But I need you. We must bolster the wards, the three of us, together. If these islanders are to stand a chance of survival, we must give Eli, Mer, Pearl, Joby and Caden a chance of defeating as many vessels on the waves as possible before they reach our shores.’
‘There are still wyvern out there, riding the air currents,’ Dreska says quietly. ‘I sense half a dozen left.’
‘You sense …’ Lowri takes a breath, eyeing her appraisingly. ‘Do you sense any other creatures?’
‘Below the waves, I can sense sirens, but they are moving further away and … others. Huge predators.’ Dreska licks her lips. ‘They are hungry. One feasts on human hearts.’
Lowri blinks quickly, not showing her fear at what Mira now faces. Not knowing if she is still there with her siren sisters, if she’s still alive. ‘When we survive this, you will become a hunter, Dreska,’ she says quietly. ‘The first of our new coven.’
‘And I?’ Inesh asks, clasping her fingers before her.
‘You are a hunter too, from what Brielle has told me.’ Lowri smiles. ‘But you both also have an aptitude for spellwork. I will train you both too, when this is over. Now come. We do not have long.’
She hands the vial of Tanith’s drake blood first to Dreska then Inesh, their eyes flaring wide as their veins darken.
‘Oh!’ Dreska says as Inesh giggles, a high chattering sound, more creature than witch.
‘Settle, fledglings,’ Lowri says. ‘Take my hands and follow my lead.’
What could be mere moments, or hours later, Lowri stumbles, eyes flying wide as the walls shudder again. She is so deep in her work, so focused on the weaving, and now the wards are moved further out, almostcovering the town below. Her fledglings are both lost still, consumed by the spellwork, as Nova brushes up against Lowri’s ankles, purring in her monster-like way. Lowri senses for the first time how Nova soothes her, taking away the sharp edge of her magic. They look at each other and Nova blinks before leaping up to curl beside Amma on the armchair.
