I startled, my brain so slow I honestly braced for a whole new attack from a bog monster, despite there being no bogs, marshes, or swamps this side of the wall. I barked a true laugh when I saw the man staggering over to us, covered head to toe in mud.
“Shut the fuck up,” Zaarib snapped, canines bared. “Dahab took a knock to the thigh when he was landing and dropped me in the fucking dirt.”
“Did you break anything?” I demanded, all levity fading.
“No.” Zaarib sighed, slumping to the ground beside us, stretching out one leg in front of himself. “Felt the impact all the way to my balls, though, and the muscles in my leg are probably fucked.”
“There, there.” Shula patted his dirty shoulder. “I know how upsetting it must be. The first sensation those balls have had in months, and it wasmudthat gave you a little tingle.”
He snarled, snapping his teeth at her, and I sat back against the tree, smiling.
“Where’s Aliah?” Shula asked once she’d wiped the maddening little smile from her face. “I lost sight of her hours ago.”
“Bet she stayed back to allow the stragglers to get to safety,” Zaarib said, massaging his calf. “Last I saw, she still had plenty of aether left.”
That didn’t stop the twinge of worry in my chest. Another one of us, separated.
Shula’s stare focused on me, and she weighed my expression. “What is it?”
“Mak got gutted.” My voice emerged low, strangled no matter how I tried to smooth it. “Barely made it to the healers in time. If it wasn’t for Emmahin, we’d both be dead.”
“Shit,”Shula breathed, dragging a hand through her dirty hair. “Shit.”
“Where are the Torn Isle lot now?” Zaarib asked, scanning the space between the trees where our warriors sat, empty-eyed or laughing raucously to keep the darkness at bay as people began to hand out metal cups of a steaming liquid.
“Fuck knows,” I muttered, resisting the urge to rub my face again.
Rapid footsteps made everyone’s heads lift, no matter how deep exhaustion drilled into our bones. Warriors hauled tired bones to their feet and took up their weapons again, and I did the same. But it wasn’t a black-eyed Zalaam soldier who burst into view; it was a woman in her forties with bloodstained green leathers and a white strip around her arm, shouting warnings.
It took a while for the words to make sense, and then my stomach dropped.
“Tigers,” she yelled. “Tigers riding from the wall.”
“Great, just what we need,” Zaarib muttered.
“They have harpoons and catapults,” the messenger shouted, sprinting closer.
“Oh good, it gets worse,” Shula sighed.
“And a battalion a hundred thousand strong.”
“Fuck,” I groaned, and finally gave in to the urge to bury my head in my hand.
“A legion of wyverns flies above them.”
The three of us exchanged a tired look. So there were yet more wyverns. The swarm we’d fought wasn't even the full extent of it.
My chest crushed as pressure built, painful and deep. These were our final hours. There would be no second battle, only a very brief stand that would slaughter all of us left.
“The princess flies at the head of their formation,” the scout yelled.
“The princess,” I repeated, frowning at Shula and Zaarib.
“Whose?” Shula shouted, her booming voice carrying over other cries for information.“Whoseprincess?”
The messenger didn’t slow, racing past us, but she did look over her shoulder to say, “Our princess. A-lalla Mihrunnisa Saber rides with them. She found us allies.”
CHAPTER 57
