Page 115 of Between Despair and Hope

With the millstone behind me, I had nowhere to go, and he dodged me as I swung my tied fists toward his face, figuring he’d expect my kick. He crowded me, wrapping both arms around me and picking me up at the waist, dragging me backward to where Andron struggled to open a rift. I could barely stand upright, and I worried about the mill house falling apart, the structure holding the giant stone fracturing and sending it crashing to the ground. Rain had to be close. Filenti was next to the other master, screaming into his ear. Tor buried my face in his chest as I struggled, trying to pull away, stomp on his instep, anything, when I heard a voice I recognized.

“Masters, please. Let us discuss what you’re doing.”

Tor froze, barely holding onto me, and I stumbled back.

“Y-Your Holiness,” he stuttered out, and I looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, the Supreme stood in the doorway, white robes billowing out with the wind. He wore a thick, white cloak embroidered in gold filigree, and his hands bore white gloves. Lit from behind by the dull white of the storm, he looked sent by Aonara herself. But what did he expect to do? He was a healer, and he didn’t appear armed.

“The rift,” Filenti hissed, paying no heed to the Supreme.

“You won’t be able to rift. The mill house is warded.”

“Who?” Filenti demanded, turning to face the Supreme.

“A former novice. She was quite eager to help me in my task of finding you. You’ll recognize her?”

Nor stepped into sight behind the Supreme, and I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t seen her since building the dormitory for the novices we’d recovered from Darkhold, and the past few weeks had been kind to her. I knew she’d been training, something Elora had mentioned, but I had heard little more. Still narrow, her face looked healthier, the dark circles she had worn gone. Her clothes were dark, not the white of a novice, and light brown eyes stared at Filenti with powerful hatred.

“Of course, she’s fucking elvish,” Andron murmured to himself.

I hadn’t realized it when I met her, but looking now, I could see a slight point to the tips of her ears, barely noticeable. She had at least a drop of elf-blood. I slowly backed away, trying to put as much distance between the three men who still carried at least one dagger amongst them. Snow pinked by my blood was slick beneath my feet, and I slipped, falling to a knee. In an instant, Filenti was behind me, tugging on a fistful of my hair.

“Break the ward so we can go. We’ll leave her.”

“Why would I do that? The king will be here any moment. Can’t you feel that?”

“How did you find us?” Tor asked, hands loose at his sides as if he’d given up.

“I didn’t. She did.” He nodded at Nor. “She remembered the men who helped ferry her across to Folterra. She’s been waiting for you to make a misstep and alerted the city guard and me as soon as you did. I assume they’re not far behind the king.”

Nor and the Supreme set after us on their own? I glanced at the woman, her face set in a grim line. On the ground were markings, the side of a circle. Had she been drawing the boundaries and uttering incantations this entire time? Andron tried once more to open a rift and failed, and I hoped her ward would continue to hold.

The shaking ground caused me to pitch forward, and I would have fallen on my face if Filenti didn’t have a grip on my hair. He stumbled too though, and the twist of my body told me my rib was definitely broken. Groaning, I tried to steady myself the best I could.

“I told you. I’m barren. I’m of no use to Declan,” I gritted out, and Filenti jerked my head back.

“We’ll leave it up to him to decide.”

I heard Rain’s rift before I saw him. Filenti pulled me up, putting his blade to my throat and holding my body in front of him as a shield. I closed my eyes, remembering Elora being held in the same manner. I lifted my hands, grabbing onto his wrist and tugging it away from me, but he was stronger. Both Tor and Andron fell to the ground twitching, holding onto their throats as my husband pushed his way past Nor and the Supreme, Dewalt following behind a moment later.

“Let her go,” Rain demanded. An avenging god, his dark cloak billowed behind him, and his anger turned his expression to stone. He held one hand in front of him in a fist, giving himself a physical control on his divinity. Nonplussed by the twitching men on the ground, his eyes were on Filenti. An idea came to me. The Supreme was right there, and he could heal me as long as we were fast enough. I silently pleaded for Rain to look at me, to see the plan I’d worked out. With my hands on Filenti’s wrist and Rain taking his breath, it wasn’t likely he could do enough damage that the Supreme couldn’t fix it.

“Do you have the mark?” Filenti’s breath was hot in my ear. “Is it in as delicate of a place as it was on your sister?”

My stomach folded over on itself, and I wanted to retch. I knew what he spoke of, aware of my sister’s birthmark just below her hip—a spot of white shaped almost like a star.

“You’re disgusting. Let go of me,” I said, twisting in his hold, moving so the blade wasn’t over my artery.

“She said the same thing,” he rasped, and I threw up my elbow, trying to hit him in the chest. The blade bit into my neck, and I heard Rain yelling. He must have realized his only option was to take Filenti’s air, because the master stopped talking, and his veins bulged out of his neck as he pressed his blade against my skin. I held onto his arm, doing my best to keep the blade from digging in too deep. When Filenti fell to his knees, bringing me down with him, Rain was there, grabbing at his wrist with me, lending me his strength, as Dewalt pulled back the master’s head.

When blood sprayed over my face, I feared it was my own, but the hand against my neck went limp.

“Holy gods,” the Supreme whispered. Rolling flat onto my back, out of the master’s grip, I saw Dewalt standing over me, holding the severed head of the man who’d just tried to kill me. He tossed both his sword and bloody trophy down as my husband pulled me into his arms.

“Show me, let me see,” Rain said, voice frantic as he tugged at my braid.

“It’s not bad, I don’t think,” I replied, closing my eyes as I reached up to where the blade had pressed against me. Finding only a small trickle of blood, I sighed, thankful it hadn’t been worse.

“There’s so much blood,” he whispered. “Please,” Rain said, calling the Supreme over.

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