Amara’s hands shook, and her cheeks glistened with tears. Elsedora told me once how withdrawn she’d grown in the years after my curse. My resentment waned as I realized she had lost everything to the whims of a cruel Origin who had taken her lover, her friends, her whole life.
I wouldn’t let her years of suffering at the Origins’ hands be in vain.
“You heard her! They will hurt him,” Lark argued.
I shook my head. “They can’t reach Dritan if he’s already in Caym’s grasp. Their plan has failed. Now we demand a new course. One where he lives.”
We had a single chance to stanch the rot the Death Origin sought to infect our realms with. I wouldn’t give up.
“I will do as you wish,” Amara said and offered me a firm nod.
She instructed us to gather all we needed—salt, bones, and a solid silver blade. Amara placed the rib bone in Dritan’s trembling hand as Lark drew a circle of salt around the table. Then we stood on each side of the table at Dritan’s head.
After cutting our palms with the silver blade and joining hands, we closed our eyes and repeated the summoning spell that I’d heard only once, when Asterie had lain dead in the bailey of Luz. The air stilled around us, as though time had stopped, and I could no longer hear the waves on the shoreline below.
A gust of wind hit us first. Warmth caressed my face, replaced quickly by a chilly flash of white light. I kept repeating, and I kept hoping.
When Amara dropped my hand, she said, “Open your eyes, loves.”
Seven powers filled the room. Each with a unique essence yet nondescript countenance. Stars, Flames, Sunlight, Soil, Wind, Moonlight, and Water—the Origins had answered our summoning. Shadows ebbed off Lark, as though the Sources’ presence had awakened the Shadow Origin within her.
They would answer to us.
Chapter 66
Elsedora
Thousands.We were outnumbered by thousands.
As Moirai crested the hills, Krait’s Warhorse pulled to a halt at my side. The flames from its armor flared. “Why are you not on Mayra?” he demanded.
My friends never listened.
“Why are youhere?” I snapped.
He shot me a grin that looked more vicious than delighted. “You know me better than that.”
I growled low in my throat. “Stay alive, old man.”
“If he fights, I fight.” Sybilla’s gray mare trotted to my other side, a bow in my friend’s hand and a charmed quiver at her back.
The Moirai disappeared and reappeared closer—now within range of our marksmen.
“Commence!” Fenris called out as hundreds of arrows flew and the Warhorses charged forward. Sybilla’s bowstring tightened before she shot and struck a Moirai through the heart.
“Stay behind,” I commanded her. “Keep a distance. We both know you’re still shit with a sword.”
“Love you too,” Sybilla said as she pulled up on the reins, and for once did as I’d instructed, retreating to flank the other marksmen.
Swords and lances met bone ahead, and I ran forward into the fray. Vangard stomped through the hordes of Moirai in front of me, roaring out blue sparking flames.
In my peripheral, I saw Asterie burst into hundreds of stars that corralled a group of Moirai and struck with precision through their hearts. The two of them could take down a small army alone. Letting the thrill of battle urge me forward, I allowed myself a glimmer of hope that it might be enough.
The Moirai kept coming over the hill. We’d be here all night fighting and still not see the end of them.
A horrid screech interrupted my thoughts as something grabbed my dagger arm. I sliced through putrid flesh, slashing a Moirai’s neck, with a cry of sheer rage.
The last time I’d faced them, Ryn and I had been the only two not dosed with garrot root. Then I hadn’t known to call to my Wind or use it as a defense.
