Light and fire—against the darkness. That’s what the journal said, what the lightning soul had confirmed. Throughout history, there had always been evil, and to light a fire in that darkness, there had always been Aithnan, the bonded ones. I didn’t know how to save an entire empire, but unleash my rage? I could do that.
“Hold,” Kamaal barked when the enemy wyverns flew close enough to make out the individual colours of wings and scales.
“Hold,”he shouted when talons became visible.
“Now,” he roared when the blacks of their eyes shone unsettlingly close.
I imagined ripping off the veil from my power, and thrust my hands forward at the same time Raheema unleashed a blast of searing fire. Up and down the line, magic flared and flames poured upon the enemy wyverns. My deathfyre slammed into one wyvern, dropping it instantly, and knocking another from the sky. I didn’t look below to see its body break on the mountains; I remembered Kamaal’s order to target the riders and pinned my attention on one, keeping the memory of my loss fresh and raw to power my fury.
“The wall!” Shula shouted. “Look what’s under the wall.”
I frowned at the rubble, the settling dust, and at first, I thought the darkness flowing beneath it was more of that Zalaam magic, but it wasmoving.Flowing, like water.
“It’s a river,” Nabil yelled, thrusting a razor-sharp blast of air at a rider. I blinked when their body fell into four pieces. “The River of Daw’.”
I whipped my head around to stare at where Nabil flew with Aliah, even as I punched another wave of deathfyre into the lineof wyverns, messily aimed but enough to send a few scrambling towards the ground.
“The River of Daw’ is a myth,” I argued, but wasn’t everything a myth come to life these days? First the Zalaam queen, then her twisted araethawn warriors, and Aithnan.
The story of the River of Daw’ went, when God saw the first fae war, a clash between brothers over land and borders, his sorrow was so strong at seeing his creations fight that his tears flowed across the land and the river formed. I never suspected it had truly existed, but when the dust cleared, there was indeed a river cutting across where the wall had stood for hundreds of years. But it wasn’t clear turquoise, or even the silver of tears; it was as black as ink.
This washer.Her magic, corrupting the river. Or maybe the myth was a lie, and it was darkness that birthed the river instead of sorrow.
Either way, I forced my back to straighten, lifted my head, and hammered flame after flame into the lines of wyverns. So many—so many wyverns, they filled the sky. Hundreds of them for every one of us. No matter how many fell with frozen wings, or ripped from the sky with telekinesis, or drained with mist-like aether, more wyverns took their place. Whatever gaps opened in their lines, other wyverns flew into. A never-ending, tireless army.
We were going to lose. The certainty hit me like a shower of cold rain. We would be overcome all too soon. Our magic would be exhausted, and we’d reach for physical weapons instead, but how long untilthoseran out? Or worse—until close combat with swords and spears ended with one of our legions dead instead of theirs? We had wyvernfyre on our side, but minutes passed between blasts as the flames built again, and those minutes left us all vulnerable.
Brute strength and magic weren’t going to win this. We needed cleverness. Cunning. We needed a feat deserving of an adventure book. I needed to think like Fatima the Wise and Nura the Brave. All those books I’d read sitting in the window of my room in Strava had to count for something.
I ignored the sweat that dripped down my brow, equally because of the blazing heat of Raheema’s fire and because of the strain this magic put on my body. I assessed our enemy, our allies, and the terrain around us.
The skies were cloudy and dark, but no rain had yet come to complicate the battle. The mountains were a range of twisting, snaking routes and sharp blades of peaks. If they’d been a small legion, we might be able to outfly them in the mountains, lead them into deadly rockfaces, especially with Varidian’s control magic, but they were too numerous. We could lead them into Kalder and hope our mortal enemy would attack them, but they’d just as soon strike us. Besides, the wyverns launched into the airfromKalder, so that was a bad idea on all fronts.
I gritted my teeth against the strain across my back, my shoulders, and I knew it wasn’t entirely muscular as I punched another flare of dark flame through the air, finally managing to hit my target. The rider screamed the moment my power hit him, and I encouraged it to catch, to spread to his clothes, his hands, his face. Within seconds, he wasn’t just slumped over his wyvern; he was ash on the wind.
Panting, I turned for the next rider as Nabil’s magic swept in to handle the dead rider’s wyvern.
We could have used the plume of ash to conceal us while we retreated, but as wind picked up, shaking the few trees that clung to the base of the mountains and making my hair dance where I’d tied it at the base of my neck, the air grew clear. Everything was visible from the sky where we battled to the mountains and the dark river.
The river…
“Nabil,” I yelled, whipping my arm out in an arc that knocked back five riderless wyverns, killing the beasts instantly.
“Busy,” he snapped.
“How close is Wahasha Lake?”
“Are you insane?”When I only drove another dark arc into the wyverns, knocking seven from the sky this time, he must have realised I was deadly serious. “An hour’s flight,” he said. “Half that if we push to our limit.”
“Why?” Varidian demanded, and I allowed myself one glance at him and Mak to see they were fine, to quiet the raging fear in my chest. Strands of dark hair stuck to his forehead as he pushed himself hard, his hands flying in a beautiful dance. Assuming control of the riders in the further lines, I realised. How many had he taken out—and how many remained? I didn’t know if he could command the wyverns, but I assumed like all we’d faced lately, it was impossible.
“Can you strike them in the heart of the swarm?” I asked, my mind racing as I threw together a plan. “Make them angry enough to follow us?”
“Follow us where?” Shula demanded on my left. When I looked her way, her eyes were bright. “Tell me where to fly, madwoman, and my sword is yours.”
I legitimately loved this woman.
“She means for us to lead the legion to Wahasha Lake and the river monster there,” Nabil explained.
