Page 67 of Kept

“You are the finest warriors in my army. There is no one else I’d have at my side as we defend our land and defeat our enemy.” His face darkened, and his voice echoed with some of the power he’d displayed in the Sanctum. “Sithistra violated our city. Killed our people and dared to march in our streets. This will never happen again.”

Growls rumbled from the knights. Their eyes glowed within their hoods. Even knowing they were on my side, the sight lifted the hair on my nape.

“We go to avenge our dead,” Laurent said. “Tonight. Right now. Are you with me?”

Heads nodded. The knights kept their voices low, their quiet growls more sinister than battle cries.

“To the Rift,” Laurent said, then he spun his horse around and set off again. We moved faster now, trotting at times as we approached the chasm. The time passed quickly, and suddenly the Rift’s dark, yawning blackness loomed.

The knights from the Wastes moved swiftly and quietly, dismounting and falling into position around me. My heart thumped as we walked forward, Laurent and Varick leading the way. My palms grew damp, and I wiped them on my cloak as I turned Lega’s bly’ad over and over again in my mind, preparing to use it the moment I spotted a Sithistran soldier. My role was simple. All I had to do was stick to the plan.

But as Varick would tell me later, one constant in war is that battle plans are doomed to go awry. Because as we neared the Rift, the ground began to shake.

I staggered, stumbling into a knight. Before he could steady me, the ground shook again.

A loud, ominous cracking sound filled the air.

“Earthquake,” one of the knights hissed.

“The Bleak Pass!” another yelled.

Ahead, the wooden bridge swayed violently. Rocks crumbled along the edge of the Rift and tumbled into the chasm. Shouts went up on the Sithistran side. Seconds later, soldiers appeared, their armor glinting in the weak moonlight. Someone pointed straight at us.

“Vampires!”

Our plan had failed. We’d been seen.

And now the land was rolling under our feet.

Chapter Nineteen

LAURENT

For several minutes, chaos reigned.

Knights staggered. Horses screamed, their eyes rolling wildly as they threatened to bolt. Beside me, Varick was thrown to the dirt. He was back up within seconds, looking furious. He drew his sword, and for a moment I thought he might stab the ground as punishment for daring to knock him off his feet.

Instead, he turned to me, shouting, “We need to fall back! They know we’re here. We don’t have the men to fight them!”

Nodding, I turned and searched for Given. She clung to a knight who was doing his best to keep them both on their feet. As I opened my mouth to shout, the ground stopped moving.

Everyone froze, the sudden cessation of movement almost as unsettling as the quake. For a moment, things were utterly silent. Then shouts lifted from the Sithistran side of the Rift. As I turned, a Green Guard stepped onto the Bleak Pass. He stood in place for a moment like he was testing the bridge. When it held, he thrust his sword in the air and bellowed, “Advance!”

He raced across the Pass. Immediately, other Sithistran knights followed.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

Varick grabbed my arm. “Come on. I’ll get the horses.”

“No.” I shook him off. Fuck no. I was finished running. I strode forward, whipping the halves of my cloak behind me. Doru had granted me a gift—and given me an order. I had no intention of disobeying. And I wouldn’t see my people burned in the streets again.

The Green Guard who’d stepped onto the Pass first pounded toward me.

I thrust out my hand. “Eshto!”

He fell to the ground. Dead.

I waited for the nausea to strike.

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