Page 333 of Burn of the Everflame

Maura beamed. “Very good, Lily. You’ve been studying.” She glanced up at the canopy of leaves above us. “Unfortunately, the trees in this area are mostly oak, but I’m sure there are pines around here somewhere . . .”

“I’ll find one,” Lana said. Her voice was small as she edged out from behind Maura. She’d been hiding from me, I realized. I wanted to tell her that Henri’s shame was his alone, not hers. I also wanted to scold her for risking her pregnancy by coming, but knowing the threat Lumnos was under, perhaps she’d made the wiser choice.

And, despite everything, I wanted to ask her if Henri was here somewhere, too.

She ran off before I got the chance, and other healers left to help her. When they returned, she hurriedly tossed the roots to the ground in front of me and backed away. Lily set them aflame with a spark of Lumnos light.

The warmth of the fire was bizarrely entrancing. I leaned in, gulping in as much of the smoke as my lungs could hold. Something stirred in my chest, luring me closer, then closer, then closer, even as the flames singed strands of hair that had come loose from my braid.

Maura pulled me back with a nervous chuckle. “Careful, dearie. Any closer, and you’ll burn.”

My mind began to clear, and I managed to rise on my own as strength slowly returned to my limbs. I reached for my sword, staggering toward the battlefield.

“Wait a while longer,” Maura urged. “Those roots take time to work, even for your kind.”

I flinched at those words—your kind. Maura was like a second mother to me. Hearing her label me as something other was an unexpected blow.

She scowled. “Don’t you look at me like that. I love you as deeply as my own girls. We don’t have to be the same kind to be family.” I threw my arms around her neck, pouring my appreciation for everything she’d done for me into the embrace, and she fiercely squeezed me back.

“I knew you’d never stop being a healer, Diem Bellator,” she whispered in my ear. “You just found a bigger wound to mend.”

She let me go with a weepy smile. I threw Lily one final look, wishing I had time to thank her for loving the two most important men in my life when they needed it most. The best way I could thank her now was by saving their lives, and that’s what I set my mind to do when I turned and marched for the fighting.

In my current state, entering the front lines was nothing short of suicidal. I had no magic, no shield. I was still unsteady on my feet, and it was a struggle just to lift Sorrow’s Edge. The way magic flew back and forth around me, I had to be vigilant even from my own soldiers’ errant attacks.

I called my brother’s name as I moved through the chaos. Blood was everywhere—dripping from head wounds, seeping through tunics, smeared across hands and faces—camouflaging Teller’s coppery hair in a sea of red.

I ducked to miss a bolt of shadow. Would he even respond, if he heard me? Could he? Gods, if I was too late . . .

“Teller,” I shouted again.

Deep within the brawl, two familiar brown eyes locked on mine, then turned away. I set off at a sprint, bouncing off shields and tripping over corpses. A spear glanced off my armor and sliced my cheek, but I barely felt the pain, consumed by my race to stop my brother.

I nearly collapsed with joy when I finally caught up to him—until I saw his state. He was covered in an alarming amount of blood, and I couldn’t tell whether it belonged to him or the horde of enemy soldiers that had him trapped on every side.

“A little help?” he grunted, deflecting an axe meant for his neck on the right as a spear of fire crashed against his godstone breastplate on the left.

I stormed toward the soldiers, who watched me approach with unsettling apathy. They didn’t raise a shield or run away. They showed no emotion, even as I struck them down. They were no more sentient than swords, abandoned by their wielder and left to tumble, forgotten, to the ground.

Against Teller, though, they fought like hell. Even the empty-handed mortals launched at him, clawing at his throat and eyes. I cut them down as quickly as I could, but for every one that fell, more rushed in to take their place.

I shoved my body against Teller’s to guard his back. “If they don’t kill you, I will,” I snapped. “You shouldn’t be out here.”

“I’m a member of the Royal Guard, remember?” he said, sounding oddly amused. “The High General ordered us to fight.” He put his boot in the chest of a mortal lunging for his face. “So . . . I’m fighting.”

“I don’t care what Alixe ordered. I told you to⁠—”

“I’m not hiding in the trees. You wouldn’t, either. That’s not who Father raised us to be.”

I growled, knowing I couldn’t disagree on either point. I threw my frustration into a punch that smashed across a Fortos Descended’s jaw. “At least stop fighting alone. You’re a fool if you think you don’t need help.”

He let out a loud laugh. “I know that, D. Do you?”

I shot him a glare over my shoulder, and he smirked, looking far too pleased for a man bleeding from ten different places. His smile didn’t last long—within seconds, more of Ophiucae’s soldiers set him in their sights. They circled around us, magic churning at their palms.

“Get back to the rest of the Guard,” I shouted. “You’re too outnumbered here.”

He nodded. “Good idea. You lead the way.”