Page 95 of A War of Three Kings

“Enough soldiers are fighting at the wall so the rest can retreat.” He doesn’t let go, placing a strong hand on my head and forcing it down as we run along another line of battlements. Arrows whistle over us, flying in both directions. Our archers face off with the enemy’s counterparts, who hide within the siege towers that have crept close.

The battlements shudder as an immense bridge from a siege tower falls on them. A storm of soldiers in royal purple streams out of it, their swords flashing as they fight our warriors. The ring of metal hitting metal chimes out over the crashing of boots on stone and the roar of voices.

My father curses and spins me around, racing us away from the fighting. The far side of this wall has collapsed, but an intact staircase leads down to the ground on the north side.

“Fighting here is a death sentence,” he shouts. “These soldiers make that sacrifice so the rest of us can live to see the next battle. You do not put your most valuable resources on the front line.” A steady stream of people rushes down the steps, and he cuts us into their line.

“Am I more valuable because I am a lord’s daughter?” I snap back, knowing I am being irrational, but this argument is the only thing keeping me together.

“No—because you have immense magic. Now stop fighting me.” He tugs me along.

The horns blast again, still calling the retreat. Caitlin’s figure is no longer up there on that highest of towers, watching over the battle. She at least had a direct line of retreat.Gods, I want to reach out to Aldrin again, but he seemed so weak, and I don’t want to distract him.

The ground beneath us shakes, and the middle portion of the staircase ahead caves in. A dozen people tumble from it, screaming as they fall toward the road below.

My magic explodes out of me, reaching to every one of those people, catching them in outstretched hands of cushioning air and lowering them gently to the grass. With my father’s help, I save half of them—but our magic is depleted and stretched thin. The rest crumple on the road with twisted limbs, alongside so many other bodies.

The horrors build up until I think my heart will explode. Cries of pain, of fear, are all around me. Part of me wants to lie down and curl up in a ball. The rest wants to let loose in a fury of violence and death, destroying this enemy that dares to hurt my people. I wish I had that much power.

My father continues to tug me downward, even though the stairs are gone and people push frantically past us to climb back up to the battlements. They form a choke point as more fleeing soldiers from above try to get down. My father drags up greatblocks of stone with an air wield and uses fire to melt them in place, repairing the stairs.

He forces me down until my feet are on the grass. The smell is pungent here. The chemical taste of the smoke is far more intense, infused with the tang of blood. So much blood.

Our army that was waiting in the reserves beyond the north of the fortress now meets the invading force trying to cut their way through the missing gate. Thousands of bodies clash at that single point. I do not envy the horrors they face there, slashing into each other and slipping on all the blood spilled. It is enough to raise bile in my throat and turn my legs to jelly, but my father forces me to race on, pulling me by the arm.

We circumvent the mass of our army by taking a western route around them, and the horrible realization hits me that as soon as our forces on the wall falter, the enemy will do the same.

My father pulls me toward the pavilion for the injured. He spins me to look at him, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“You will escort the injured, the priestesses and the druids to Windkeep Stronghold. Take Diarmuid with you and half the available Appleshield Guard. Caitlin and Gwyneth will take the other half. Slip through the forest lands where the bulk of the enemy’s army cannot follow you. Tell your sister to take a different route. We will split up the rest of the war council—we cannot have all our leaders in one place where they can take us all out at once. It will be impossible to retreat this entire army in one body.”

I nod, and he pats me on the shoulder.

“Be safe, Keira, and take care of your grandmother. She is more fragile than she seems. You will have a head start, but understand, Lord Desmond will pursue us the entire way to the stronghold.”

“What are you going to do?” My voice breaks, because I know the answer.

He glances back over his shoulder, toward the battle. “I’m going to lead our army out of this mess.”

“Take Aldrin with you,” I plead. “Find him and bring him with you.” I almost fall apart at the mention of his name. I am so afraid for him.

“I’ll do my best. I can promise you that.” My father stares at my face like he is trying to remember every line, and it breaks something within me.

More explosions sound, but not those huge impacts that rocked the earth earlier. Something else.

“Father, those mercenaries—they marched under false banners. They are the Explosion Brothers from across the seas. They have black powder bombs and muskets. I have read about what they can do.”

“Muskets?” he asks, rubbing his chin. “I have never seen a musket. Or black powder, for that matter.” He glances over his shoulder again.

I push his hands off me.“Go. They need you.”

“Know that everything I have done is because I love you.”

“Don’t say goodbyes!” I burst out. “Just meet me at Windkeep.”

He lingers, then turns on his heel and leaves.

I rush through the flaps of the canvas medical tent to the overwhelming sight of the injured laid out on stretchers, bandaged and bloody. Druids and Mothers of Magic rush around them in a flurry, and I find the rest of my family among the healers.

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