But she failed.
I take a step toward her, only to have her blocked from my vision by a blinding flash of light emanating from the Grand Bearer. It’s barely faded before I’m charging toward Ana, grabbing her from her horse and bundling her back toward mine. I feel her shock through the mooring, dulling her reactions.
“We have to go, Ana. NOW.”
My priority is her. Always. And right now, an immortal maniac is just opening his eyes onto a new world. I’m sure he’d love for his first divine act to be killing us both. But he hasn’t seen us yet, and that’s our advantage.
“He did it,”Ana says, her voice dazed even across the mooring.“He really did it.”
“Which means we need to get distance between him and us as fast as possible. Then we can decide what to do next,”I say as I climb onto my horse and pull her up behind me. Her guard, surrounded by freshly slain cleavers, gather around us. Drisha has a nasty burn on the side of his face, but otherwise seems alert, his eyes on Ana.
“We must regroup, my queen,” he says. “We’ll head back to the border. You have to protect yourself now, for the sake of Trova.”
Hyllus’s voice sounds in my ear, carried to me by his aesteri power.
“He’s controlling the trees.”
I whip my head around to see Caledon moving across the clearing along the edge of the pools. He’s still about a hundred yards away, a sea of soldiers between us and him, but even from here it’s impossible to miss the effect he’s having on the trees around him.
The giants aren’t just swaying angrily, as they were before. Now, their movement has turned unnatural, as if they’re being puppeteered by an invisible hand. Branches twist and stretch down to the ground as roots explode from the earth, snaking toward our soldiers. Like the limbs of a hungry octopus, they coil around the Trovians, yanking them off their feet. The soldiers’screams are snatched from the air as they’re dragged into the dense undergrowth of the forest.
Hyllus is right—Caledon must be doing it, because the forest is ignoring the Temple forces, leaving them unharmed. Most of Ana’s forces are brave souls who try to keep fighting even as they dodge the trees’ attacks, but a few begin to peel off, fleeing from the clearing.
Caledon simply strolls through the chaos. He’d look utterly relaxed if it weren’t for the mad, gleeful light in his eyes. He reaches out and touches a nearby soldier fighting a cleric. The man immediately arches in pain and seconds later falls to the ground dead.
One of his comrades turns, swinging his sword at the Grand Bearer. Dread rises up in me as Caledon catches the blade with his hand, wrenching it from the soldier’s grasp and using it to run the man through. Caledon drops the blade, showing no sign of injury or pain, as if the metal was no more threat to him than a feather.
He really is invincible now.
The trees at our end of the clearing still seem to be under their own control, but I know we need to leave before that changes. Right now, Caledon is focused on the battle around him, distracted by the chance to flex his new powers, but if he gets much closer and notices us, we’re in trouble.
I start to back up my horse, Drisha taking his cue to turn his men around, but when I glance over my shoulder to check Caledon’s position, I see a figure breaking off from the shifting battle. A man with chestnut hair forces his horse into a gallop, straight toward the Grand Bearer.
No.A spike of fear runs through me as I watch his foolish charge, sword raised, face fixed with an expression of grim determination. Alastor’s a dozen feet behind him on his horse, his own features twisted with fear, arm outstretched like he could stop the man he loves in his tracks.
“What’s happening?” Ana demands, knowing my eyesight is much better than hers. “What do you see? Is thatHarman?”
He’s waited his whole life for this moment—his chance to face down the Temple’s leader.
“We have to do something,” Ana shouts, pummeling on my back to make me move my horse in her brother’s direction.
“We’d never get there in time,”I tell her miserably. Even Alastor knows he can’t, as I see my friend’s mouth open in a desperate yell.
Yet as we watch, it’s as if time slows down, and I see every tiny detail of the next few seconds. Caledon turns his head toward Harman. Harman raises his sword, mouth opening in a righteous battle cry. The Grand Bearer blinks up at the leader of the Hand, then looks at something approaching over Harman’s shoulder. Out of nowhere, a tree branch—twice as thick as a man—comes swinging down toward him. It hits Harman across the torso and keeps moving, ripping him from his horse until he’s flying across the clearing, landing in a crumpled heap.
“Harman!” Ana screams, and the pain I feel ripping through her hurts me like I too have been struck.
“We have to call for a retreat,”I tell her.“He’ll kill everyone if you don’t give the order.”
“Alright,” she sobs, violently wiping away her tears. “Captain Drisha, call for a retreat. We’ll regroup at the encampment.”
“Very good, my queen,” he says, turning to one of the guards.
“Send the message along the line, tell them the archers will cover the foot soldiers. They can at least stay out of reach of the trees.”
“Yes, Captain,” she says, cupping her hand over her mouth and beginning to whisper. I watch as lieutenants across the clearing lift their heads, the woman’s aesteri magic carrying the message to them. Then the cry goes up across the Trovian forces:
“Retreat! Fall back!”
