Page 161 of Cursed Shadows 4

That is… desperation.

That word hums through me, deep enough to burn my eyes with tears.

My folk are desperate.

Metal winks at me from far across the snowfield. Silver and chalk and steel—lifted swords, daggers and knives… from both sides, the litalves and the surviving dokkalves.

The final, harrowing shout of war reverberates through the mountain like the quake that struck on the crevasse, the last call before the smear of brown leathered warriors breaks free from the horizon.

They come at us.

They bring us the final battle.

And I decide, now, on my knees in the snow, that there is nous. Not now, not anymore.

I do not stand with the dokkalves.

I do not stand with the litalves, either.

But I do not stand for only myself.

I am for the light, because I am of the light.

My folk are desperate.

And now, so am I.

I push up to stand. My legs are uneasy beneath me, but they hold firm enough that I stagger to a stand.

The ash, the smoke, the disturbed snow—it has settled. Not dispersed, it is now a smog draped over the snowfield.

Denser by the moment, darker with each explosion that shuddered the summit, I can hardly make out Mika and Daxeel anymore, and Aled’s impaled body is vanished to my eye.

I can use this.

Invisibility.

I don’t run straight ahead, into Daxeel’s line of sight.

I stumble to the left. I take cover in the smog.

“Nari!” Daxeel’s voice strikes me like a sword. “Nari?!”

The panic lacing his call is enough to thicken my throat. There’s sincerity in it. Concern for my life. A fear bubbling to the surface.

Again, his shout splinters through the smog. “Nari, where are you?”

My face twists with a pained grimace, and my mouth thins shut. Still, I stagger onwards, I trek through the torn snowfield—away from his call. Because it is only evate, not love that fuels his panic.

It is dedication to his mission that has him seeking me.

Distant, I hear the faint calls of another. “Heartbreaker!”

Dare is far. His shout comes from the right, beyond Daxeel’s.

I trip over a torn limb, a leg without a body. My boots are quick to stumble, to catch my balance before I can fall, but they fail—and I crash down on my knees with a thump.

Again and again, Dare and Daxeel call out for me. It will not be long before they come looking for me.

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