“Thank you, my lord,” she said, eyeing all the straps and buckles.
She watched Sebastian tie his own, lacing up his breastplate and bracers with fast, efficient movements. Finally, he reclaimed a crimson cloak from one of his men. The transformation was instant. The man she loved was replaced by the Commander his soldiers needed. Then he turned to her, saw her holding the breastplate like she’d never seen one before and his lips twitched. His expression almost amused.
“You have no idea how to put that on, do you?”
“Not even remotely,” she admitted.
“Come here.”
She stepped closer, and he took it from her, lifting it over her head and moving it into place against her chest. The weight of it surprised her, her crimson surging automatically. Sebastian’s fingers moved quickand practised over the straps. When he was done, he cast his eyes over her. Relief, and something deeper moved through the bond at the sight of her in Thorne armour. But he just murmured, “Better.”
She watched as he and Tobias checked every corner of the encampment once again, refusing to leave doubt anywhere. The battlefield formed exactly as planned. Sorrel’s bowmen were ready on the north and south ridges and mountainside, their quivers full, Evelyn amongst them, joined by groups of Caldris and Lyrans. Durent axes and hammers stood ready behind their barricades of stone and timber, set to hold the field if the enemy broke through Thorne’s ranks. Kara recognised Merrick’s sons amongst them. Strange, to fight beside those who hated her. But Draknor cared nothing for grudges. The Healers tents had been pitched further back, but on all sides as she’d suggested, green banners marked high so the wounded could see them in the chaos. The Navyrian ships’ blue sails billowed in the wind as they braced themselves offshore to meet Draknor at sea. Sebastian spoke with their admirals briefly, grim nods exchanged, then turned back to his own men. When at last there was nothing left to check, no more words to give, Sebastian and Kara took their places at the front of the line. Behind them, the Thorne infantry had formed up on the sand, covering the half-mile depth and stretching the width of the shore. Disciplined. Silent. The kind that only came from men who had done this before, and knew exactly what was coming. The barricades held behind them, their fall-back position if the beach fell. Kara mounted her valmare and drew up beside Sebastian and Tobias, both flaring matching crimson. She summoned her own magic and was surprised to find that it was crimson that answered first. A command rippled through the Fatàn ranks, and a shield roared into existence, vast and unbroken, covering their entire defensive position, arching over soldiers, tents, and the ships offshore. Everyone was in position. As ready as they ever would be.
This is it.
“Sebastian?”
He turned to her.
“I love you. More than anything.”
“I love you too, Kara. Stay by my side, okay?”
She nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I was taught by the best warrior in Vallenna.”
He smiled at her before she looked back out to the sea. And then she saw them. Black sails. Dozens. Hundreds even – until the horizon itself was swallowed by them.
Draknor had come.
Their bond jolted. Sebastian’s fear for her safety spiked so intensely that it stole her breath. He was terrified of how exposed she was. She pushed back fiercely through it – warmth, strength, her vow that she wouldn’t leave him. Not now. Not ever.
Tobias’s voice rang out, loud and commanding. “Hold your ground.” Then lower, for Sebastian and Kara alone, his gaze fixed on the shield above them. “Now we see if Vallenna stands.”
Their darkness struck first.
Black magic slid across the waves like oil, tendrils of shadow curling against the Fatàn shield. The deep ruby arc above them shuddered and groaned under the weight of it, spider-web cracks forming. Gasps rippled through the lines of soldiers. They were going to get through. Kara’s pulse raced. The dread that had haunted her all morning came to life before her eyes. Like falling into a nightmare. Beside her, Sebastian’s hand flexed on the hilt of his blade, crimson burning across his knuckles.
“Steady,” Tobias commanded.
The shadows slammed harder, the sound echoing across the field, making the shield flare with sparks of ruby and ebony light. Kara’s valmare shifted beneath her, sensing the wrongness in the air. Then she heard it – a loud metallic rip. A jagged tear appeared in the shield in the north-west corner. It had taken them less than fifteen minutes. The tear was only about twenty feet wide, but wide enough for three Draken ships to surge immediately through the breach. Shadows poured with them, sails black as night, straight towards the Navyrian vessels waiting in the bay. Their forces responded immediately, sailors bellowing, waves rising like walls, glimmering with the sapphire-blue magic under their command. One Draken ship capsized in a thunder of spray, another split clean down its hull as water magic slammed into it. For a breathless, impossible moment, Kara thought they might hold the sea. The hope lasted less than a minute. With a sound that was a mix of a thunderclap and glass breaking, the entire Fatàn shield gave way, shattering into fragments of light that fluttered around them. Shouts of fear and shock echoed down the line. No one had expected the Fatàn shield to fall so quickly. Veyra’s people scrambled to recast – but this time the dome shrank, flaring only across the sand and fields. Shieldweavers tried desperately to throw their magic back across the sea – to protect the Navyrians as planned – but every time their magic touched the Drakens black, it guttered and died. Draken ships engulfed the bay. Their shadow magic bled mist-like and insidious across the sea, swallowing theNavyrian ships. Silence fell, but moments later came the sound of wood breaking apart. Then screams. Hundreds of them. When the mist cleared, the Navyrian ships were all but gone, their sailors pitched into the sea. With no shield to protect them.
They’ll slaughter them all before they even make it to shore.
Without thinking, she dropped her reins and threw her hands up – reaching across the distance to the water – and a new dome of ruby and gold rippled over the bay. It sealed itself above the thrashing sailors swimming desperately to shore. Arrows of shadow struck her shield, sending stars dancing across her vision as she held it. Her shield wouldn’t last. The dark magic was clawing at her already, draining her strength.
Sebastian jerked his head towards her. She could barely breathe. “Help them,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I can’t do this forever.”
“Men,” he yelled without hesitation, “With me – pull them in!”
He surged forward, Tobias riding at his side as Thorne soldiers rallied, breaking from the lines as they’d practised to drag the drowning sailors to safety. The strain tore fire through her arms, but she didn’t relent.
Just a little longer.
Sebastian threw himself from the saddle the moment he hit the waterline, wading waist-deep into the surf, hauling men up. One broke the surface coughing, choking, clearly badly injured, blood streaming through his clothing. Kara recognised him even from the distance.
Jax.
She watched in relief as Sebastian caught him by the arm and dragged him towards shore, his emerald flaring, healing. Seven years of Healers’ study – his instinct now. Thorne soldiers surged in beside him, hands outstretched, pulling sailors onto the sand. The Navyrians wasted no time. As soon as they were safely under Fatàn’s smaller dome, which shimmered to admit them, they unsheathed their blades, soaked and furious, and formed up shoulder to shoulder with Thorne ranks. They turned as one to face the black tide now pouring from Draken ships, voices rising in fury and grief –
