Page 144 of A Sword of Ice
And because humans could not see what existed right beyond their noses, they hadn’t noticed she was the Fae the emperor wanted at all.
It helped them breeze through the night as word of them traveled fast throughout the city, so that when it finally slept, they made it exactly where they needed to be.
They waited all night, their fingers moving quickly, quietly, as they stripped of their circus-like clothing and donned their uniforms of war.
All except Shula.
So by the time morning came and the light was bleeding against the dark, swathing the sky in hues of pink and light blue, Shula was walking into the military camp.
It wasn’t such a difficult thing to do. After all, they were strong, and no one would dare break into their poorly guarded stronghold. Julius and Clay took care of the guards who’d fallen asleep at the entrance, rendering the entryway free for Shula to step through.
She walked in alone, though not without backup. The others waited at the entryway while Shula stepped into the light. Clad in a similarly styled skirt that Iona had been wearing before, her golden-brown legs all but glowed as rays of sunlight sliced against her skin. Her arms raised and the bangles decorating her wrists slid down to her elbows. Slowly, making a show of it, she unwound the scarf from around the bottom half of her face and let it go so it drifted towards the ground.
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing here?!”
Shula smiled and pushed her hair back away from her ears. Their gasps cut through, sharper than wind, as they recognized the female from the wanted posters before they started forward, Shula began to dance.
Her feet moved across the ground in dexterous, seductive movements. Her body undulated, and danced like cresting waves of the ocean, falling to the shore. Her every turn was practiced and yet borne from somewhere deep in her soul at the same time. Like she ripped it straight from a place of pain and sorrow and spoke without saying. She cried without tears and laughed without noise.
In her dance she whispered the beginnings of a story.
And when the first human approached her, she lit him on fire with her words.
He screamed as he burned, metal melding into his flesh. Others soon followed and Shula didn’t need to open her eyes. Her senses saw for her and fire consumed, licking along the ground and reaching for anyone who dared to come too close.
The rapid succession of the flames chased along iron beams and tore through doors and walls. Soon, weapons were drawn and aimed, and they went flying at the fire Fae, only to be caught against a wall of solid ice.
Iona made herself known by then, creating weapons of blue and sent them flying from her fingertips as the magic consumed her from the inside. Her skin glowed blue, and she was encased in ice. A statue, an Elemental. Beside her, Shula’s own skin glowed and bled like fire as it danced from her veins.
Together, they tore through the military camp, their rage silent whispers between them, while their magic screamed and tore through the place, ripping it off its hinges. Iron melted and broke against fire and ice. They cleaved it apart layer by disgusting layer until the whole place shuddered and fell apart. Their magic was explosive, destructive. Just like the humans had been. As Castle Aileach crumbled, so did this place. Like the Fae were crushed beneath the rubble, so were they.
And when it finally ended, the chaos finally subsiding, Iona took her friend’s hand in her own, interlacing their fingers, and something akin to hope flashed through their blood like Mana whispering words of promise and destruction.
This is war.
56
To Dana
Valerio stared at the setting sun, the breeze soft as it pushed his hair away from the sharp jut of his cheeks. A storm rolled within his chest while his manner appeared calm and collected. His mind waged thoughts of war and his body longed for rest, for peace.
“We have officially declared war against the Emperor of Illyk.” He had heard Uric’s footsteps before the Fae’s voice came to him. He did not turn to greet his friend but stared straight ahead.
The sun dipped beyond the horizon. Crests and valleys decorated this part of Illyk. Lush green grass, a bright sun, and a sky free of smog reminded him for a single second of home. Of Tir na Faie.
“Good,” came his curt reply. “I want him to know who did that to him. I want him and his kings to bleed like they have bled us for years.”
They had left a single survivor in that camp. They had hammered his still breathing body to an iron pike with his arms spread wide and a message to be delivered past his stuttering lips.
“This means war.”
Ice wrapped around the human’s legs, keeping him upright, and Shula Azzarh had danced her fingers along his armor, leaving fire in its wake until he smoldered and screamed. She had put it out so as to not kill him, but just enough to leave a message.
“Is it wise to let the emperor know that you have the Elementals?” Uric questioned.
Valerio huffed a breath. “This is why I value your friendship so,” he said, and Uric tensed. “I know you do not want to hear these words, but you question me when very little do so.” For once, he lost the perfectly composed expression and dragged his fingers through the ends of his hair. “Perhaps it was a mistake, but then again, perhaps the emperor knows already that we have them. How else could he have found us at Castle Aileach?”
He had been asking himself that question since they stormed past the tree line and pelted the castle with boulders. They had been found somehow, the Emperor of Illyk had found them.
