Ice consumes the first guard completely. His skin transforms into silver glass. He’s trapped a half a step behind me and caughtmid-motion, one leg half-raised like he was trying to run. Then Taliesin closes his hand.
The crack begins at the knees. Ice splinters into branching lines, and then the guard breaks apart. Jagged shards hit the ground like falling glass.
With a moan, the second man tries to lunge. His lips are already blue, his neck consumed by frost. His sword drops from frozen fingers as his body collapses inward and outward all at once, splitting into crystalline fragments that rain like hail.
The leader makes it to the back of the tent. He crouches to duck beneath the canvas as the frost consumes him so quickly he’s flesh one moment and ice the next. Then he falls to the ground in shards until icy fragments are all that remain of him.
It’s over in moments. The only survivors are me and Brioc cowering in the far corner.
“Are you hurt?” Taliesin asks, his hands dropping heavily to his sides.
“I’m fine,” I say, though it comes out rougher than I intend.
It’s not entirely true, but I’m still breathing.
Taliesin crosses the floor in two quick strides. The ice beneath my hands begins to thaw, and the air becomes a little easier to breathe. Pain still lances through my skull, but at least it’s over for now.
Gently, he pulls me to my feet. My knees buckle immediately, and I start to slide away, but his arms clamp around my back.
“What’s wrong?” he murmurs. “What have they done to you?”
“It’s her talisman. Don’t know what they did, but it’s like it was burning her from the inside out. She can barely stand now,” Brioc calls out a little shakily. He strides across the tent, dragging his chains behind him.
“Those fucking bastards,” Taliesin growls.
“So…” Brioc clears his throat. “Should we expect resistance when we leave the tent?”
“I didn’t kill them all if that’s what you’re asking,” Taliesin says with narrowed eyes. “Gwenydd drew some away so I could get in here to find you both, but we need to move fast. One got away to alert the army.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Brioc says dryly.
“It’s the best we could do.” Taliesin suddenly sweeps his arm under my legs and hauls me against his chest. I don’t protest. I can’t. “Go to the harp tent. Gwenydd will be waiting for you. You’ll have to help her move it.”
A beat passes. “With an army at our backs?”
“They won’t follow. The screaming dead are in the forest tonight. That’s why the diversion didn’t work.”
A tense laugh. “Also wonderful. Only problem is….” He lifts his wrists, chains rattling.
After a brief glance at the tent’s opening, Taliesin grips Brioc’s restraints. Ice crawls across the links. In seconds, they shatter, leaving only the manacles behind. He does the same for mine. The chains collapse to the ground in a shivering heap.
With the weight gone, I sag fully against Taliesin’s chest and close my eyes. As much as I hate being helpless, I can’t fight this. I can barely see or stand. If there were ever a time to surrender my pride and let someone else save me, it’s now.
His body shifts against me as he strides outside, and a strange flicker of recognition goes through me. Like we’ve done this before in some other life…
“Can’t we do something about the manacles?” Brioc asks.
“Afraid not. The links are regular iron, but the manacles were forged from iron of the human lands. My magic is useless against them.”
“Ah, that’s why she can’t heal,” he says softly. “You need some help with her? It’s a long way to the new camp.”
“I’ll get her to safety. You worry about the harp,” Taliesin replies in a voice that brooks no argument.
“All right. Good luck.” A beat passes. “Never thought I’d say this to the exile, but I’ll pray to the gods we meet again soon.”
“Just get the fucking harp so this disaster of a plan wasn’t pointless.”
And with that, we’re sailing across waves again—or at least that’s what it feels like. I crack open my eyes, daring to witness the damage. But all is still and dark. Andcold. Ice crunches beneath his steps.
