Page 49 of Winds of Destiny

All of a sudden, a noise like thunder rends the air. Forgetting my pains, I spin around and watch with horror as Kai, kneeling with his head bowed and hands in a prayer position, is suddenly engulfed in bright red flames.

No, no, no!I can’t lose someone else!

I can’t help it.

I scream.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kai

It says something about me that I’d rather face my dead than spend one more second talking to Turo right now. Probably nothing good. I know he’s in pain, heart and head and body alike. I know his world has shattered and I should find some compassion for him—and yet, to see him being so blithe about his own life makes me furious. For him to use Camrael to rationalize his irritating desire to run straight into danger, as though he has any chance of being anything other than a staggering, bleeding mess… It makes my hands shake with the urge to either tie him up or knock him out.

Turo is all I have right now. I can’t let anything happen to him. If he were to die due to his own stupidity, forget Camrael forgiving me—I would never forgive myself.

I gather the bodies of my men, ignoring the gutted and blood-drenched corpses of the Kamorans. Let them rot in the sun and be found by my wretched father whenever he deigns to descend from his stolen throne.

“You won’t win anything by defying me,” my father had told me the last time I’d brought up my plans for Cam. “A Zephythan for a marriage alliance—ridiculous! Those frivolous sea peacocks care more about making things beautiful than useful. What can we get from them, eh? We have more soldiers, more weapons, a stronger position. Weakening our city for their sakes is foolish.”

“The fact that you’re saying that proves you haven’t listened to a word Iortheir representative has been saying for the past week,” I’d replied, irritated beyond my ability to keep calm. “If war with Kamor is coming, then I want to know we’re fighting on the righteous side.”

He’d laughed. “There is no righteousness on the battlefield. Those who die lose, and those who live win. I intend to make sure our people win.”

His last words echo in my mind as I finally reach Ferow. I gently close his eyes, then pull his body over my shoulders. They’re dead, my men, all but Jeric—dead due to the traitorous actions of their own king, of the man who had said he intended our people to win. Tolive.And here they are, loyal subjects, friends, brothers and fathers and lovers…

Don’t think of it.If I think too much, I’ll break. I can’t afford that, not with Turo on the edge of irrationality and my own desire to run after Camrael eating at me with every minute that lengthens the distance between us. Someone has to be the fucking adult right now.

Fuckthat it has to be me.

I lay the last member of my guard down with the others, their bodies in a straight line with their heads facing our mountain. I resist the urge to adjust their clothes or wipe away blood. If I’m lucky, very soon it won’t matter what they look like.

I’ve always prided myself on being well loved by Huridell’s god. Carnuatu visited my mother in a vision on the day of my birth, and I’ve seen him roaming the hills around Huridell on every hunt I’ve led, guiding me. He’s shared his sacred power with me and blessed me in so many ways. Now I must ask him for one last favor.

It’s a risky ritual, but I have nothing to lose at this point. I kneel before my truest friends, clasp my hands together, and raise them high above my head. “Glorious Carnuatu, your child pleads for a moment of your time,” I whisper, gathering my power between my palms until they begin to heat up. “I beg your aid for your people. I beg your aid for the pursuit of justice. I beg your aid for the life of one very dear to me.”

The fire builds, spilling out from between my fingers. This is already farther than most people take it—Carnuatu’s sacred fire is most easily handled through the medium of metal, not flesh.

I don’t care. Flesh is all I have left to offer—the strength of my body, the turmoil of my mind, and the frail hope of my heart.

“I beg you to hear my prayer.” The fire extends down my arms. The heat is so intense itshouldbe painful, yet it isn’t. “I beg of you to hear me. I beg…”

The fire erupts, engulfing me in bright red flames. Distantly I hear a noise, but I’m focused on the intense pressure that comes with the holy fire. My body feels like it’s clamped onto an anvil, like every inch of me is being beaten under the heavy regard of my god. I refuse to flinch and stare straight ahead as the great ram himself appears before me. He’s immense, as tall as two of me, and he seems as broad as the mountain itself.

I keep my hands up and in position even though every muscle in my body is shaking from exertion. Carnuatu bends down in front of me, far enough that my body is centered between his long, curving horns. They’re hideously sharp—one wrong move and I could be sliced in two. He tilts his head, and for a moment I’m afraid he’s decided to be done with me.

Carnuatu stares at me, his dark, fathomless gaze seeing everything I am, and I stare right back.Please.My lungs don’t work properly. All I can do is mouth the words.Please. Take them home. Let me save my prince. Let me save Huridell.

A second later, Carnuatu steps back. He touches his nose to each of my men, one by one, and their bodies vanish.

Oh, thank you. He’s sent them back to Huridell, to the mausoleum. They’ll be found there by a priest and interred the way they should be, and their families will know that, although they died, their souls are with our god instead of wandering the Plains.

The pressure is getting worse. My arms tremble so much I can barely keep my hands clasped. I won’t last long.

Carnuatu turns to face me. He paws the earth twice, once with each front hoof, and then—

My grip breaks.

My arms fall, and the flames die. The pressure and heat go away, and all I’m left with is the pain from the fight tempered by the fact that Carnuatu has blessed me. He came when I called, he took care of my people—ourpeople.

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