Page 242 of The Call of Crimson
I have no way of knowing if the others made it to safety, but I feel my shadows snap, my connection severed as they pass out of range. The moment it happens, more shadows start to gather at my feet, forming into arrows of my own making, as the general speaks.
“My demand is simple.” He grins, the expression sinister and dark. “I want you, Queen of Shadows.”
“I have a name and that isn’t it,” I snap.
“Oh, but it is. It’s the only one that matters, anyway.”
“My name is Breyla. Come on, you can say it,” I taunt, trying to keep him talking. “Brey-luh.” I exaggerate the syllables like I’m talking to a toddler.
He chuckles. “It matters not what you call yourself as long as you come quietly.”
“Yeah…” I hesitate, raising the shadow arrows from the ground and pointing them at the army. “I won’t be doing that,” I grunt, unleashing them in one swift strike.
Several hit their targets, but most are blocked.
The general tuts. “You should not have done that.” He whistles a high, sharp note, and their arrows fly.
I duck, throwing up a shield of shadow at the last minute. When I’m sure the last arrow has flown, I survey the damage.
“No,” I gasp when my eyes find Zion to my left.
An arrow is lodged dead center of his torso. Poisoned or not, it doesn’t matter. Where the arrow has punctured, he will bleed out in minutes.
“I’m so sorry, my friend,” I cry, dropping to my knees by Zion’s head. I wrap his hand in mine, squeezing tightly as I look into his eyes for the last time.
Blood bubbles in from the corner of his lips, and he just shakes his head, giving me a soft smile.
“May the gods grant you peace,” I whisper as his eyes lose focus, glazing over as his soul finally slips away.
“I grow impatient with your games, Queen of Shadows. Consider that a warning for disobeying my request,” the Fae general sneers.
I wipe the tears off my cheeks, smearing Zion’s blood across my face in the process.
“Hasn’t anyone told you?” I snarl as I stand, my sword raised and ready for attack. “I’m terrible at following orders.”
The general’s voice softens, almost coaxing. “Then how about I make you a deal instead?” the general purrs. Something in his tone sets me on high alert. “I won’t kill your companions if you come peacefully.”
It sounds good in theory, but somehow, I know he’s lying.
“Sorry,” Darian shouts, stepping forward. “If you want Breyla, you’ll have to go through us.”
“Very well.” The general shrugs, falling back into line.
“Can you Travel us?” I whisper to Darian as the enemy advances.
“Not all of us. And not far. I’m nearly drained.”
“Fuck.”
We can’t run, or we risk them following and slaughtering the rest of the city.
“Together we fight,” Ryder says.
“Together we die,” Darian agrees.
“But we take as many with us as we can on our way out,” I finish.
Together, the three of us charge the line of Fae, knowing we won’t walk out of here again.
