Elsedora. Please, please. Get up.
Lark’s attention flicked to where Dritan clawed his way to her; the whites of her eyes showed. Her grip on Caym slipped, and he sat up, wrapping a clawed hand around her throat. Amber smoke poured from his mouth into her nostrils as he wielded Death swiftly against her. The Sword of Isolde fell from her hand.
Then I saw an opening—a single path to her between descending guards. Moments to accomplish an impossible task.
I ran for it.
When I reached her side and grabbed the ruby pommel of a blade so familiar, so wickedly powerful, I could feel it thrum a pulse up my arm.
I thought of the orchard. Of the smell of sweet blossoms clinging to freckled skin.
And I struck.
Chapter 70
Elsedora
The moon seemed to wink at me as claws pinned my arms to the ground, piercing through my wrists.
Blades clashed above me, and hands slipped beneath my arms, yanking me away from the onslaught of the horde.
The world spun. My vision doubled, unable to focus.
“Get up, Red.” Cassidee pulled me to my feet. I wobbled. “It isn’t your time. You’ve got more fight than that in you.”
We were so fucked.
I shook my head, trying to regain my senses. My fist tightened on my throwing dagger, and I readied to launch it.
As it left my fingertips, it didn’t make purchase with anything.
I’d missedagain? My depth perception failed me.
I’d die with a bruised ego.
My vision swam as the scene before me distorted. The Moirai all stilled at once. Our soldiers and Warhorses ran through them.
“What’s happening?” I heard Fenris shout.
“Continue to attack!” Krait shouted.
The Moirai decayed into piles of dust on the blood-soaked street. I stepped forward, only for my knees to wobble. Before I could fall to the ground, Wyeth caught my elbow.
“We need to get you to the healer’s tents,” she said. “Just a scratch.” Though she grimaced when she took in my injuries.
The momentary silence grew eerie. Wyeth dragged me toward the outskirts of town to be healed. My body longed to keep fighting, unable to believe that the battle had concluded.
With jumbled thoughts, I winced against the dim light of torches that sent a shooting pain through my head.
“It’s over. It’s alright,” Wyeth soothed as I white-knuckled a throwing dagger.
I leaned against her side. She was too petite to hold me upright, and I felt bad for slumping all my weight onto her.
“We won?” I gurgled out.
I’d spent so many years waiting for this moment. Every tomb raided, every mission completed, every friend lost—it flashed by as darkness clouded my vision.
It couldn’t be over.I’d never allowed myself to imagine what came next.
