Page 144 of Ashes of Honor

She replaced it with a matching one as she pulled her spear free. “Your positivity is inspiring,” Millie mocked—something about it gave me butterflies despite the chaos around us.

We fought as if our lives depended on every strike—cavalry and ground units syncing in brutal harmony, the rhythm of our movements a life-saving dance. Each blow we landed pushed the tide back, but for every one we cut down, another took its place. Dark, viscous blood sprayed across the dirt. The Pansies were relentless, unfazed by our resistance, but we pressed on. We couldn’t afford to slow down.

I scanned the battlefield, my mind working through our dwindling options. We were overwhelmed. The ground was slick with blood, and the cavalry’s charge was slowing. I needed to buy us more space to pick them off one by one at our own pace—something big.

My eyes locked on a crumbling structure to our left, barely standing but still large enough to block the Pansies’ advance. If I could take it down, we’d have a chance.

I turned to Millie, giving her a quick nod. “Cover me,” I said, already pulling my bow. She flashed me a sharp grin and dove into the fray, drawing attention away from me.

Setting my sights on the support beams, every muscle coiled with focus.

“Please don’t miss,” Isabella shouted over the slashing of metal against flesh.

Millie laughed from her position on the field, “She doesn’t miss.”

“What she said.” My lips curved in a cocky grin.

I drew my bow, aiming for the heart of the support beam. Every muscle in my body tensed, and then I released. The arrow flew, slicing through the air, striking true. The structure cracked and splintered, collapsing with a deafening roar, and the Pansies were forced to halt, snarling as they collided with the debris.

We had a moment—a small one—but we’d used it at a cost. Time was slipping away, and we had to move fast.

“Take ‘em out, boys!” I shouted, rallying the team. “Oh, girls too, obviously.”

It was a slow effort,and of the fifty of us assigned on this mission, we were only down five. Not that loss wasn’t still a loss and all, but I supposed this was something I’d need to get used to. I could only hope the few I’d chosen to get close to would survive till the end.What a selfish thought.

We’d loaded up our dead—strapped them down to a few riderless horses to bring to the rendezvous point—checked on Asher and the shelter, then saw our way back through their fallen town. I could only pray that little boy lived to see how great the future could be.

“You good?” Moe asked, her handsome stallion paced alongside me.

I nodded, still lost in thought. “Just thinkin’ is all.”

She didn’t bother with a response. If I wanted to talk, I would; Moe understood that about me and I quite appreciated it. It was odd, I knew for nearly a year now that things were going to go from bad to worse—that we were gradually preparing for some final showdown. But we never had a clue what it was truly like beyond Covert’s borders. The way Jessa spoke of The Outskirts, how she’d done what she had out of desperation, under the threat of becoming anOutsider. I knew it was bad, but what I had seen was simply unfathomable to me until a few hours ago.

What made it worse, was that I was the daughter of the man who was responsible for it all. He had the ability to help them, to keep children from dying from hunger. Lives he claimed to care so much about sure didn’t matter unless he found the potential of their magic worth keeping alive. Stopping there wasn’t good enough for him, so terrorizing them to test out his experiments was obviously the natural next step.

Sharing his blood made me sick.

Millie’s horse shifted nervously, its ears flattening as if it senses something we could not. I glanced at Millie, making sure she was steady—her shoulders had gone stiff, her grip on the reins far too tight.

“Hey—” I yelled, but before I could get the rest out, she tensed, her body locking up as she toppled from the saddle and onto the ground like a rag doll.

I was off my horse in an instant, “Millie!”

Moe hit the ground running not far behind me, we reached her at the same time. She was convulsing.

“Millie, hey! Listen to me, you’re okay—breathe,” I said, my hands hovering over her, unsure of what I could do to help. Physically, she was fine, no injuries, no sense of disease at a quick scan. Moe crouched at her other side, keeping Millie’s frantic horse from bolting.

Her green eyes hazed over, then rolled to the back of her head. I’d seen this before. Heart pounding, I scooted under her and cradled her head in my lap. My fingers trembled as I adjusted her neck, ensuring she wouldn’t hurt herself.

Millie’s lips moved, her honeyed voice barely audible at first. “He knows … how can he … Jessa …”

A bolt of ice struck through my body, stomach churning. Jessa was with Riley’s group—helping them navigate through the unfamiliar territory.

My blood turned into ice.

“Riley and Abel,” I whispered though I knew she could not hear me. “Please—Are they okay?”

“Oh God,” Millie whimpered, her voice climbing higher in pitch. “He’s going to torture her. No. No. Ronan is watching.”

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