Page 326 of Burn of the Everflame

I looked east, and the flatlands were no longer vacant—they never had been. An illusion faded away, and the sailors of Meros appeared in long, straight lines, their hands raised, their wind magic swirling around Sorae, who thrashed helplessly in a tangle of air.

Alixe sprang into action, firing off orders to prepare the Guardians’ bombs and wheel our launchers into place. The Descended in my army jumped to obey.

The mortals did not.

“I have a lesson to teach you, too,” Cordellia said to me. “This one may be the most important of them all.”

Luther thrust out a palm toward Sorae, stretching his magic toward her as she struggled to rip free of the churning wind. “Alixe gave you an order, Dell,” he yelled. “This is no time to break ranks.”

Cordellia’s stare, along with all the other mortals’, remained on me. “Power demands to be used, Diem. If you’re blessed with power and refuse to wield it, it will find its way into the hands of someone who will.”

“Cordellia,” Alixe shouted, “we need those bombs.”

“You stayed your hand, and look what happened,” Cordellia went on. “Your mortals flocked to me. Your council betrayed you. And the proud mountain dwellers of Montios . . .” She clicked her tongue. “How differently this might have ended for them, had you forced their hand to fight.”

“What did you do?” I whispered.

When Cordellia spoke again, it was with the low, menacing voice of my sire. “The cowards of Lumnos are about to find out.”

Luther yanked his magic from Sorae and wrapped a thick shield around the mortals. Their bodies jerked and fell, many grasping at their heads. Luther called for Alixe, who yelled orders to the Descended to pour their magic into strengthening his shield.

He swung off his horse and ran to Cordellia, gripping her by the shoulders. “Are you alright?”

She nodded shakily. “He was looking at my memories. He wanted to know everything I knew before he . . .” She shuddered at the prospect of what she’d almost become.

“I’m sorry, Dell, there’s no time to recover,” he said. “We’ve got to launch your bombs before his reinforcements reach our people.”

Cordellia looked out at the distant Meros soldiers marching toward us. She gave another, firmer nod. “Guardians, prepare the bombs,” she called out.

A handful of mortals wobbled toward the wooden crates they’d hidden in the forest, but not all had been as lucky as her. Some convulsed on the ground, while others stood at attention, as if awaiting orders. Cordellia grabbed a nearby woman and tried to shake her from her stupor. When the woman showed no response, Cordellia squeezed her eyes closed, and her shoulders trembled.

It was an effort to hold back my own tears as I counted the mortals we’d lost. The words of the Rite of Endings began to flow—then choked to a stop as I remembered who else had been standing among them.

“Teller!” I screamed. I threw myself off my horse and hit the ground in a frenzied sprint through the fallen bodies, searching for his auburn curls. “Teller, where are you?”

“Look for my sister,” Luther said, running to join me. “He’ll be with her.”

We zigzagged through the mortals, shouting our siblings’ names. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or inconsolable when neither answered.

In the east, Sorae struggled for her freedom. With the Meros wind pinning her wings, she swung her head wildly, unleashing azure flame that incinerated soldiers on both sides.

Somewhere on the battlefield, my mother and Taran were fighting for their lives. I didn’t dare wonder why so much time had passed without their return.

And in the north, the threat of Ophiucae’s last words to me lingered. If he got to the Montios Descended . . . if he’d truly sent them to Lumnos . . .

In every direction, the people I cared for hovered at death’s door. One man stood at their backs, hands lifted to give them a push.

My hand closed around the warm, cursed handle of Sorrow’s Edge.

“We’re here,” a voice yelled from the trees. Two dark silhouettes emerged into the crimson light, revealing a somber Teller and a tear-streaked, red-eyed Lily.

“Are either of you hurt?” Luther demanded.

Lily sniffled, and Teller shook his head. “Lily noticed the mortal healers acting strangely. She realized what was happening, and she shielded them to keep him out. Saved me, too. All by herself.” He looked at her with a doleful smile. “Told you that you were stronger than you think.”

Lily burst into tears. She threw herself against her brother, sobbing into Luther’s chest. He wrapped an arm around her and frowned at Teller, who looked away.

“Teller, stay with Lily and the healers,” I ordered. “Lily, keep your shield up in case Ophiucae tries again. Don’t come out until you see us leave Fortos.” I looked at Luther. “You’re not going to like this.”