“Thanks,” he muttered gratefully.
For a moment, just a moment, they’d broken the tide. Only two hours into the fight – and Vallenna held. But it would not hold for long.
CHAPTER 44
THE FALLEN
Grief is a magic of which we still know very little.
–Caldris Study on Dark Magic: A Theory
The peace didn’t last. Sebastian had known it wouldn’t. Forty-seven seconds. He’d counted. That’s all they got before Drakens began to drag themselves from the wreckage, deathly-white limbs clawing onto the sand as if the sea itself had spat them out. Black magic burst from their veins, shadows curling around them like bindings. Too many of them. Sebastian spurred his valmare back, shouting over the thunder of the tide. “Regroup! Regroup now!”
Then the voices started.
At first, it was a low hiss in his mind, but it grew so loud it drowned out the sounds of the battlefield. Faces of men he’d killed rose from the shadows, their mouths twisting with words he already knew. Accusing him. Damning him.
You killed me, Commander.
Traitor. We followed you.
Monster. Abomination. Murderer.
He jerked his head to clear it but the images kept coming: Kara on the pyre, Kara dead in his arms, Kara broken from grief. His grip faltered as the bond jolted like a lash. Kara’s fear licked at him, eating at his own resolve. He turned towards her just in time to see one of his soldiers fall to his knees, clutching his head – and a Draken blade split him open.
“Kara – move!” Sebastian roared.
But she didn’t. He could see it in her face – the terror had her pinned. Their bond shook with panic. Ice-white flickered across his fingertips as he reached for the only magic that might help. He gritted his teeth andforced it to answer – only for it to slip through him uselessly. He wasn’t particularly good at mind magic.
No. Not like this.
He had never been afraid of death. But if he died – the bond would rip Kara apart. And that terrified him. The screaming grew louder, the battlefield warping before him. He had no sense of who stood around him – friend or foe – but the shadows drove him to strike at anything that moved. Sebastian brought his blade towards the man closest to him. The soldier’s eyes went wide–
Then – clarity.
A blinding white light had replaced the shadow’s grip. Breaking the Draken’s hold. Sebastian gasped, dragging in air as if he’d been drowning. The man in front of him was clad in crimson. One of his own. Mercifully uninjured. Just shaken. Around them, soldiers who’d been on their knees staggered upright, staring around with relief, gripping their swords tighter. Sebastian shook away the images. The voices quietened.
Caldris magic.
Not his. Someone else’s. Two silver valmares shot past him. Oryen was atop one, looking terrified but determined, and on the other was a blonde-haired rider who reined in hard in front of them.
“I’ve got you,” Henry shouted, hand still glowing white. “I’ve got you both. Back to the line – come on!”
It had to be fucking Henry, didn’t it?
But he saw Kara come back to herself, felt their bond steady. He had to be grateful. Around them, more Caldris riders drove their magic outward, streaks of white colliding with the ebony in the air. The field became a battlefield not just of steel, but of will – light against shadow, clarity against madness.
“Thanks,” Sebastian grunted reluctantly, and urged his valmare back alongside Kara and Henry.
Henry stared at him, expression hard. “Keep fighting. I’ll keep your minds clear.”
Sebastian nodded once, sword raised, and struck down all who got in his path with renewed focus and fury. Kara safe at his side. He had to keep her safe. Without warning, a wrongness filled him, pulling his attention northwards. He didn’t think, just acted.
“Sam, take twenty men, reinforce the northern ridge,” he bellowed.
“But Commander, it’s holding–”
“DO IT! We hold that ground or we’re done!”
