“Leave,” he said, his tone commanding. “Or be cut down.”
My heart twisted. “You would never—”
A distant boom swallowed my words as light flashed from the river gorge. I barely had time to turn my head before cannon fire screamed across the battlefield, tearing through the valley.
The shockwave hit before I could brace myself.
“Fidela!” I cried as the mare reared in panic, her scream piercing the explosion’s roar.
Something slammed into my chest, forcing the air from my lungs. My vision blurred and the valley tilted, dissolving into shards of color and pain as I fell from my saddle, the taste of blood and earth filling my mouth. Voices echoed distantly, like they were dragged through water. Somewhere above me, horses screamed, men shouted, and the white ship’s cannons reloaded with a metallic groan that made my bones vibrate.
I tried to push myself up but failed. The ground rumbled beneath me with the thundering feet of soldiers clashing in battle. My ears rang, but I pressed my palms against the ground, forcing myself up.
And then, a shadow fell over me.
At first, I thought it was smoke, or a trick of the light from the sun overhead. But then it moved, and the air grew cold enough to fog the breath from my lungs.
Oh, gods, a nalusa falaya, a fallen.
Its form was wrong—jagged, as if carved from living shadow. Skeletal fingers stretched out toward me, and I swallowed a panicked scream as a sword appeared in the other hand. Darkness clung to it like a tattered cloth, and where a face should have been, there was only a hollow void.
My pulse lurched. “No,” I rasped, scrambling backward.
Pain flared through my middle from my fall, and I had no weapon to defend myself. My healer’s dagger was gone, lost when I was thrown from Fidela. I pawed at the ground, fingers brushing dirt, grass, searching for something, anything I could use. But there was nothing.
The fallen crouched, its elongated arm raising a blade of shadow that shimmered like it was hungry for more blood.
I tried to scream, but my voice broke.
“Réalta!”
I’d recognizehisvoice anywhere.
“Stop!” my father roared.
Gods, I had never seen him run like that. Not a king or a warrior, but a father protecting his daughter.
“Father!” I cried, reaching out.
Tears formed in the corners of my eyes seeing him come for me, knowing that Minaeve’s magic was not strong enough to allow him to stand by and watch his daughter die.
The fallen’s blade froze in midair, its hooded head tilting toward Taran. “This human has turned against the queen,” it said, voice raspy like it had been screaming for years.
My father threw himself between us, his back toward me, shielding me from the wrath of the fallen creature.
“This is my daughter,” Taran said with the authority of a king. “I will deal with her myself.”
My stomach dropped as he turned, drawing a dagger from his belt, eyes dark and determined for blood.
“Father?” I trembled, refusing to comprehend what my eyes were telling me.
He took a step toward me. The blade was angled over my chest as he raised his arm overhead. “You… are too weak to rule, Réalta.”
I never realized words could break a person’s soul. My insides shattered as he spoke against me. Bile rose in my throat as I realized that my own father was going to kill me.
I caged my breath and closed my eyes, every fiber in my body tensing, ready to absorb the blow, when a massive growl broke the silence. I snapped my eyes open to see my father flying as a massive bear swatted him aside like he was nothing more than an insect on a windowsill.
Speechless, I gawked wide-eyed at the bear standing protectively over me.
