“Shadow-cursed,” he breathed, eyes widening in horror. Then louder, “Shadow-cursed! Take her and the Prince alive—kill the rest!”
The words ripped through the battlefield. For one terrible heartbeat, I heard nothing but the static in my head and felt nothing but the vibrating intensity of the shadows.
And then, chaos. Pure, unfiltered chaos.
Shadows tore free of me in a violent surge. The ground beneath the soldiers blackened, like a wave of inky darkness. They shot up in tendrils,wrapping around the man's limbs and throat, dragging him screaming back into the trees.
Kairen shouted something I could not hear as my magic moved to the next target. I could not stop it, even if I wished to. It moved through me like a raging flood held back for far too many years.
I saw as a soldier lunged at Bran from behind, my magic moved, but another was quicker.
“Bran!”Roan hurled one blade through the air and it struck true. The shadows converged just as the man hit the ground.
Another soldier tackled Roan from the side and then three more piled on top, pinning him to the ground.
Nononono—
The magic responded instantly to my desperation, my shaking legs taking a step towards Roan as one of the soldiers lifted his blade—the shadows struck, twining around the man and dragging him back.
Roan fought like something feral—ice exploding beneath him, fists slamming into flesh wherever they could hit, teeth bared-–-but they held him for one fatal second. For one second my attention was fully fixed to the man on the ground.
The arrow whistled through the air, my shadows missing it by second as they rose to block it, but it never met my flesh. The wetthunkof it sinking true filled my ears. Time slowed as the breath left my lungs in a violent gasp. Bran stood before me, having shielded me from the hit.
He turned slowly.
My eyes tracked down to the arrow protruding from his chest.
And then my cousin, my best friend, staggered.
A scream ripped from my throat as the battlefield seemed to tilt, the world warpingas I took a step forward.
“NO!” Roan roared, shoving free in a burst of ice so violent it shattered armor and bone, but I hardly heard it. The sound of steel and magic was a distant cacophony of noise as Bran collapsed onto the cold ground.
Blood spread hot and bright in a pool of red across the blinding white snow.
I stumbled forward as he coughed—a wet, rattling sound that sent terror spiking through my mind. Crimson painted his lips.
And the world stopped, ceased to exist as I fell to my knees at his side.
“Bran.” I whispered, hands shaking. “Bran!”A low groan came in response.
A faint buzzing filled my ears, like a storm upon the ocean. So loud, so all-consuming that it was reduced to vibrations and white noise.
The arrow was Solerian steel, gold and worn, but sharp as my own sheathed blades. Bladeshehad gifted me.
Bran.
Hands shaking, I reached and when my fingers brushed and felt the warmth of his cheek, everything came rushing back all at once. The sound of steel against steel, the cursing and grunts that came from every direction. There was screaming—
No,Iwas screaming. My hands painted in his blood,his blood.
“Rena!” my voice was hoarse, broken. Yet still I screamed. “Heal him.Please heal him, oh Goddess. Bran please, stay awake. You’re okay. You’re going to be—”
His hand lifted, settling gently over my own. His thumb rubbed calming little circles over my skin. The tears began then, blurring his face, his wound, as I tried to stop the bleeding.
“Sy,” his voice was quiet, rough. His breath came in low, uneven gasps, making the words stilted and slow. “It’s okay, look…at…me.”
My hands shook,choking, shaking. “I—I can’t—we need Rena. I’ll get Rena.”
