Page 68 of The Princes of Stone and Steel

Steele, bless his beautiful heart, must have noticed my face turn green or my grimace or maybe even sensed my unease because he turned to me and held his hand out. I took it, squeezing gently.

He tugged me to lean in closer. “Mils,” he whispered. “They volunteered for this. They’ll fight harder because they know what’s at stake… and I will never leave your side. You and me, Mils. It’s you and me because it has to be. My life didn’t work without you. And I know it never could.”

Tertius broke into our little conversation. “Millicent Merchant. It seems we have company.”

“What?”

He pointed to the Papyrus land where, as they had yesterday, the men and women lined up and watched. Something told me they weren’t only there to watch and we had to keep our eyes on them too. That was all we needed.

“Stay focused on the fight, but keep an eye open,” I ordered him.

“As you wish, Millicent Merchant.”

The king, clearly unwilling to fight with his people, stepped to a balcony to the back of the castle to address us. “My son, she has bewitched you. Come back now, fight with us and I promise no punishment will come to you. If you refuse, you will die alongside her.”

“Then I’ll die alongside her,” Steele called out to the man.

While they hashed out ages-old daddy issues, I noticed movement from the Forfex camp. Stipator, in full combat gear, moved to the front of the line.

And after I’d saved him.

What a loser.

Sweat slicked my palms. The tension hung so heavily in the air, it raised the humidity level.

Thenboom!Stipator raised his sword in the air. “Forfex!” he yelled as he charged at me directly. The roar from his troops was like nothing I’d ever heard as they fell in behind him.

Capall reared up on his back four hind legs, kicking his front four, and charged forward with Làir at his side.

The Slippies took on the cavalry, liquefying to avoid sword strikes and congealing to catch soldiers off-guard, knocking them to the ground and trampling them. Everywhere I looked, swords clanked. The tree people whipped branches. We were evenly matched until the first cannonball soared overhead hitting a tree person. It splintered under the force of the ball and I heard its echoing cry on the wind. And then the tanks moved out.

Bursts of bright magic shot out from the sprites. Neon pinks and yellows lit up the field. Forfex soldiers dropped. But more tree people fell. And I watched, horrified, as a soldier sliced two legs from a Slippy, and it fell, bleeding water until nothing but a puddle remained.

The Papyrus must have decided the Forfex looked weakened because they rushed in, paper crows and paper airplanes divebombing at our heads kamikaze style. And when they crashed, they released a green gas causing their opponents to drop where they stood. The bodies of both outlier and Forfex soldiers littered the ground.

They sliced with paper swords, which made very deep cuts. A pale, wispy woman launched something into the air, opening up a swirling vortex in the sky above us. It darkened and lightning flashed. Thunder clapped.

I called for the outlier wind, who rushed in to counteract the vortex’s centripetal force by rotating in the opposite direction, but the vortex had gained too much power for his centrifugal attempt, sucking him in.

The roaring gale force knocked fighters off-balance and swallowed up their cries.

Steele slid down off Làir, barely missing the tip of Stipator’s blade.

“You won’t hurt Steele,” I called, sliding down from Capall and shot my hand out, fingers sparking with outlier magic, but I was hit in the shoulder by another’s blade and staggered backward. The slicing pain shot through me, like nothing I remembered experiencing in my life, and my head swam. It was a Papyrus blade. A poisoned Papyrus blade. Blood seeped through the tunic.

I watched, helpless as my friends were picked off one by one. Làir fell from trebuchet fire, injured but not dead because she hadn’t melted into a puddle. But she was fading fast. I felt her pain. Capall raced to her side, crazy out-of-control with fear for his mate. I sensed it all. Their emotions were my emotions. A tank rammed Maior, sheering a large limb from his body.

I turned to call for Tertius to help him and that was when I saw it happen. Slow motion, I screamed for him to move, but my words found him too late. Tertius fell.

My predecessor… My friend. And I had no time to mourn.

“Mils,” Steele called to me and my attention snapped to him just as another crow divebombed at my head, releasing a noxious gas. His bloody, battle-worn face dropped. His fear and sadness replaced everyone else’s on the field because he knew what I knew. We wouldn’t be getting our happily ever after.

Stipator struck him in the side and he fell to one knee. I failed. As the flesh, I failed to save Steele. To save the outliers.

My eyes dipped shut and I remembered the feel of his lips brushing against mine. The warmth of his touch. The way he held me while we slept. And then I remembered the lake and the power. I finally understood the taunting. “What will you give up?” In that moment, I knew exactly what I was willing to give up.

My life.

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