Page 18 of The Last Bell
My thoughts are still on the ache in my arms and core, the strain of keeping my power even and steady making it impossible to know whether I’ve been at it a minute or an hour, when I feel something ripple through the magic screen.
I blink, the sweat dripping into my eyes, making them sting.
The tug comes again, this time so harsh and deliberate that I’m certain it’s coming from the shield itself rather than some phantom pulse of my own fatigue. I frown, my offended magic lashing back at the intrusion—
And feel it ricochet right back at me. My breath stops, my body tensing as tiny little claws grip the magic cords I’ve been twining through the screen.
“It’s called a mirror weave, Leralynn,” a deep voice says. A male voice that seems to travel through the cords of magic itself echoes inside my core. Inside my magic. Not Owalin—someone else.
Tearing my eyes from the dark screen, I turn to check whether anyone else hears the words, but the two guards standing closest to me seem oblivious. My gut tightens, but I at least mark that the males and the assault units they were leading are well clear of the courtyard the shield conceals.
And whatever this is—whoever this is—I want no part of it.
Stepping away from the screen, I let my hold on it drop altogether, pulling my magic back inside me.
The little claws hold fast, keeping the screen and my magic in place. “Relax, little one. I only want to speak with you,” the voice inside me says.
“Who are you?” I ask, feeling absurd as I speak to the air, one of the guards turning to give me a quizzical look.
“I can see your lips moving, but Ifear I cannot hear a word you say, my dear,” the voice tells me. “Fortunately, that is of little consequence. You need not talk to me. You simply need to listen. Nod your head if you understand.”
I keep still.
The claws holding my magic dig in and yank, the pain spreading through my insides like a thousand exploding needles.
Stars.The pups. I nod quickly, breathing a sigh of relief when no repeat demonstration comes.
“Very good. Now then, it seems that I have something you might want. And I am more than happy to give it to you—all you need to do is come and get it.” The magic gripping my core starts burning again, the strands taking shape into an image I see not with my eyes but with my body itself. A figure, kneeling on the floor. A knife above her. A horrid ugly dress spilling around her knees.
Arisha. The bastards have Arisha. The magic image releases and I stumble back, able to stay on my feet only because of the stranger’s grip. “I am more than happy to trade you for her. Please make your way to the back of the keep and I will ensure you enter unharassed.”
The magic’s grip disappears, leaving me on my knees, the dark shield I’d been holding now staying up by the power of the Night Guard male. Keeping anyone inside the Great Hall from seeing my movements as I start toward the keep.
13
River
On the roof of the keep, River stopped at the edge of the rough stone parapet, the Academy and Great Falls spreading away before him, brushed in dusty pink under the lowering sun. Turning, he surveyed the warriors a final time. A hundred faces looked back at him, scents ranging from excitement to desperation, from steel to sweat. He didn’t envy the mortals who had loved ones inside, who’d be fighting two battles at once—one with their swords and the other with their hearts. It was only the stars’ fortune that Leralynn was not beside him now. That she was safe.
Putting his hands behind his back, River made his movements slow as he turned back toward the wall—and the Great Hall below. Slow was smooth, and smooth was fast. Battle was about being slow quickly, and the few extra moments it took to instill that in the ragtag mortal army before him were worth the time.
The Great Hall’s layout was as much a boon to Owalin’s position as a liability. On one hand, five doors leading inside—including the main entrance and the various servants’ passages—provided five points of entry for the hostage takers to guard. On the other hand, each of those entry points was a killing funnel, allowing one or two of Owalin’s warriors to stanch a whole flow of River’s fighters streaming through.
Which was why the initial force would make entry through the wide balcony, rappelling down from the roof on ropes Coal and Tye had snuck in and set up earlier. It made River slightly unsettled to be taking untested humans through a difficult entry. He needed them here—especially since he intended to extricate himself from the fighting on the mezzanine in favor of hunting down Owalin.
Hoping the rappel would leave no broken necks, River started to raise his hand to give the entry signal when his gaze landed on a pretty girl who was supposed to be elsewhere.
Swallowing a curse, he beckoned to Katita, the girl still limping as she came over. She wore her gray cadet uniform now, her blonde hair pulled back into a high bun for battle. “Your Highness—”
“If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with sending me back to herd the onlookers, you might as well save your breath for the fighting, sir. I’m a trained warrior, more experienced than many of the men here.” Katita crossed her arms over her chest and studied the structure.
Brilliant. Getting the one person who was able to make humans see reason killed off was going to be a great start to the venture. “There is no need to address me as sir, Your Highness,” River said politely. “And there is likewise little need for your aid here. Keeping the masses contained may not sound glorious, but I assure you that it is paramount. It’s where we need you most, and not because I don’t trust you with a blade.”
Katita turned toward him, lifting her face, the emotions there hidden well enough for a human to miss—but plain enough for River, who’d spent centuries in court, hiding his own. Desperation. Fear. Bravery. A need to protect what was hers. “I chose my form of address for a reason. As you made clear with your mate, there can be only one commander on a battlefield, and I yield that flag to you. If you are ordering me to go to the courtyard, I will obey. But is that truly the message you want to send to my people after all the trouble Leralynn went through to grant them ownership of the problem?”
River’s brow tightened, and he let himself rub his hands over his face. “Fine. But stay with Coal,” he said finally, turning back to give the go signal before any more news came his way.
The ropes slid easilybeneath River’s gloves as he rappelled down at Tye’s side, Coal, Shade, and a dozen of the humans sliding in just behind them.
