Kalen pulled back as the raven settled on his extended arm. He gazed into her eyes, and his expression soured. After a moment, he nodded and then straightened his crown. Darkness clouded his eyes.
“It has begun. The first squad of beasts are on their way.”
Even though I’d expected them to attack at any moment, I gasped. “Where?”
“They’re scaling the mountain. Twenty of them for now. It’s time to sound the alarm.” He gave his familiar a fond smile. “To the Gaoth Pass now to check this isn’t some kind of distraction from the real threat. And then you can rest. Be safe.”
Boudica launched into the sky before vanishing into the darkness.
Kalen leaned over the battlements. He pulled a deep breath into his lungs and focused on the wall that stretched down into the mist. Through the bond, I could somehowfeelhim reaching for his power. I knew what he was trying to do—stop the beasts before they reached us. But nothing happened. His power would not respond to him, even now.
Without another word, Kalen vanished into the turret just behind us. His boots thudded against the stone stairs, and a moment later, the low, eerie sound of a war horn echoed through the silent city. Several cries of alarm soon followed, and footsteps thundered as warriors and archers took up their assigned positions along the wall. They were all clad in black fighting leathers with a familiar sigil stamped into the center of their chests—the mask topped with a spiky crown.
I gripped the stone and leaned out into the mist, but I could only see a few feet below us. How close were they? How soon would they come into view? And would we see them in time for the archers to loose their arrows? Our entire strategy relied on preventing the creatures from getting over this wall, but we would not be able to stop them if we could not see them.
I glanced over my shoulder. Kalen now stood at the base of the turret, exchanging words with the captain of the guard. Roisin pointed a trembling finger at the thickening mist, all her bravado gone. There was a gray sheen to her complexion. She looked like she was two seconds away from vomiting on the stones.
“The mists are too thick for us to see them coming.” Her words drifted to me. “They’ll swarm us before we can stop them.”
“What about the oil?” I asked, moving to join them. “If you light the ropes now, it might give the archers enough time to loose a few rounds of arrows.”
Roisin frowned. “But if we light them too soon, we’ll waste all our oil, and then what? We’ll be in darkness once again.”
“I’ll call Boudica back,” Kalen said. “She can alert us when they’re near.”
“She needs to scout the Gaoth Pass.” I held out a hand, motioning at the war horn he still held. “I’ll do it. I’ll sound the alarm as soon as they’re close enough, and then you can send down the flaming oil. And some of those rocks while you’re at it.”
“I don’t like it,” Kalen ground out. “One of the beasts could see you and try to take you down. The oil could hit you. The—”
“Kalen. I can help.”
He scowled at me, but he handed over the horn. It was heavier than it looked. As long as my forearm, it had been crafted from some kind of animal’s horn. It had been sanded, polished, and painted a deep red that resembled dried blood. It hung from a leather strap that I swung over my head before tucking the horn into the front of my tunic.
“Be careful,” Kalen murmured.
“I will.” I forced a brave smile and stepped back. “Remember, I don’t want to die. And I certainly don’t want this to be the last time I ever see you. I’ll be careful, and I’ll be back before the shadowfiends even know I’m there.”
His sapphire eyes flared. I knew he hated the idea of putting me close to danger, but I’d noticed in these past weeks that he never truly tried to stop me. He might voice his displeasure, but he didn’t hold me back. And he never told me I wasn’t strong enough to do it, either. Instead, I could see the slight lift in his chin and a glint of pride in his eyes.
With a deep breath, I took another step back, and my wings brushed the stone wall. “Be ready.”
And with that, I turned, hopped onto the ledge, and leapt into the darkness. My wings caught the mist as I fell, spreading wide on either side of me. Pain flickered through my back, but it was a much duller version of the blinding rip I’d felt before. Steadying my rapid breathing, I swooped out from the wall and then circled back. Carefully, I slowed, aware that the wall—now invisible to me—was closing in fast.
The war horn thumped against my chest when I came to a sudden stop just inches from the wall. I swore beneath my breath and shoved my boot against it to put some distance between the stone and me. That had been too close. The mists were so thick now, the condensation stuck to my skin.
Glancing below me, I could see my scuffed leather boots and nothing more. This was bad. Even with the help of the burning oil, the archers above might not be able to see the creatures racing up toward them. Was this Sirius’s doing? If darkness had fallen on the storm fae lands as soon as the gods had awakened, surely that meant they could control the mists, too. The mists and the beasts, plague and hunger. Even fear and death. They controlled so much and we so little.
I had to do what I could to help.
Bracing myself, I dropped a foot lower, gritting my teeth at the sharp tug of my wings against my back. Even though I’d soared through the skies once before, maneuvers like this were still foreign to me. And still, I lurched ever downward, inch by inch, closer to where I thought the reach of the arrows might end.
I hovered there, idly flapping my wings and searching for any sight of the beasts in the dark.
For a long time, nothing happened, and the muscles in my lower back strained from the repeated movement of my wings against the thick air. It was the only sound in the silence. Even the battlements above were still, so quiet I could have sworn they had been abandoned if I did not know Kalen would never leave his city unprotected.
And then a sound rose from the ground far below—the click of claws against stone. My eyes burned as a swell of emotion rose within me. This was it. There was no turning back now. From this moment on, everything would change.
The clicking grew closer, louder, and the huff of heavy breathing joined the chorus. Still, I waited, my hands itching to bring the horn to my mouth. But I held off to time it just right. If I moved too soon, the archers’ arrows would not hit their marks.
