A wall of demons had assembled at the crossroads. They formed a defensive line that halted the enemy’s advance, but parted with great effort to allow us through.
“And where in Hell have you been, my Prince?” a nearby soldier called out.
Sitri stalled his steed next to a mounted officer. Though I couldn’t see his face beneath his armor, I recognized him as Draven.
“Taking a hostage,” Sitri snapped back. I flinched at the edge in his voice. “Report. Make it quick.”
Draven glanced at me, his eyes lingering a moment too long, then turned to Sitri. “There’s no holding this. The battle is lost. The TwinWinds are sharpening their knives, squabbling over who gets the honor of cutting out your heart. They will follow you home if you give them the chance. You should leavenow,or the war ends here.”
“Understood. Pull the forces you can. All else is forfeit.”
Sitri’s subordinate nodded, and we pulled away from Draven’s side. At last, the bridge came into view behind him. The line of demons closed in, yielding ground to the enemy as they sought to escape unharmed. Our horse’s hooves thundered against the stone as she galloped across. In our wake, it sent a shower of gravel raining into the pit. A horn sounded. The retreating soldiers stepped out onto the bridge, Draven at their center.
Sitri and I returned to his territory unimpeded, but the other demons weren’t so lucky. Enemies pressed their line, forcing them together and backward onto the bridge. Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, they moved slowly, clumsily.
The first cracks of distressed stone sent a ripple of panic through their ranks. Only a few demons had cleared its length. Rock and bricks fell, their deafening clatter a warning of impending disaster. Between crashes came the scrabbling of demon hooves and boots as those trapped on the bridge struggled to get off it, shoving against one another, some pushing their allies from its railings, hoping to lessen the weight.
A tug on Vapula’s gifts confirmed my fears. The bridge was weathered. Unsteady. Unable to hold an army. I knew what was coming, just as surely as they did, and my stomach twisted into knots.
“I wouldn’t look,” Sitri warned. “There is no helping any of them once it falls.”
I followed the Prince’s suggestion, squeezed my eyes closed, and buried my face in the horse’s glowing mane.
Screams. Howls. The uproar of falling stones. In mere moments, the sound faded to echoes. Then, to barely a whisper.
The bridge collapsed. And when it fell, it plunged the demons it held into the unforgiving darkness of the ravine.
