Why is thereblood?
“Syra!” His breaths came fast as he slipped upon the snow scrambling up the steps. “What in the Nine Hells, yourhair—no, that doesn’t matter now. We need togo.”He glanced frantically over his shoulder as his hands reached for me, a curse falling from his lips before he hissed, “Shit!”
Arrows rained from the trees.
The shadows answered my fear before I could even form conscious thought. The black ribbons—so similar to smoke but darker and far angier—surged from the snowy landscape in a violent wave of destruction. They swallowed the arrows midair, the snap of the wooden shafts cracking through the night before they dropped uselessly to the ground.
I froze. The shadows were not in my control, sentient in a way that cleared my disorientation, replacing it with a kind of terror I had never experienced before.
“Can you stand?” Bran demanded as he hauled me to my feet, my legs buckling for a moment as I steadied myself and tried again. Slowly I nodded, though a fresh spike of pain had me doubling over and clinging to his tunic.
Bran watched me. Not in fear, never in fear, but urgency burned in his eyes.
“What happened?” I rasped out.
“No time.” His hand gripped my arm as he practically dragged me down the temple steps, keeping me from tumbling face first into the snow. “Solerian soldiers attacked the camp. King Artius is dead.”
My breath hitched, my ears ringing. “What?”
“Kassius has taken regency. He declared Kairen a traitor, claiming he conspired with rebel forces. Sent soldiers to stop us before the quest was completed.”
Nausea rolled through me as the shadows rippled, purring their pleasure at the news.
The only good Soliel is a dead Soliel.
Long has he reigned
wicked and cruel
but even the powerful cannot escape
when death comes to claim.
“Shut up.” My hiss was pained, palms pressing to the sides of my head. “Be quietfor once, please.”
“Bran!”
Roan broke through the treeline in a spray of snow and ice, blades drawn. Behind him came Kairen, fire blazing in both hands, and then Rena with her golden light snaking from her fingertips to her elbows—thin sword clutched tight in her hand and glowing brightly.
Roan’s gaze found mine and everything stopped. The storm around him faltered. That multicolored gaze that had become so familiar locked onto the silver of my hair, tracing the shadows that spilled from my hands and onto the white snow at my feet. There was no denying it, no undoing it.
Disbelief warred on his face, but it was not him who spoke first. It was Rena, her voice quiet and shocked, “Goddess have mercy, how—”
Then the first soldier broke through the treeline.
At least ten more followed and the clearing that had hung in shocked suspension erupted in an instant.
Roan moved without a second’s hesitation, ice spearing from the ground and impaling the first two men in brutal succession. Kairen unleashed a wall of fire that roared through the trees, forcing archers from their cover behind trunks.
Clashing steel screeched through the clearing.
Rena slammed into two soldiers, golden light bursting outwards in blinding arcs just as Bran shoved me behind him. My legs were still shaky, my hands trembling as I drew my daggers.
“Stay close,’ he demanded, “you can barely walk.”
But there was nowhere safe. Solerian soldiers continued to pour through the treeline, at least fifteen, maybe twenty of them. Though they too looked exhausted from the games the magic of the wild wood liked to play.
Two soldiers charged at Bran, weapons drawn. Steel rang out as the first engaged him in battle, but the other faltered as his gaze caught on me.
