Page 26 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
The hundreds of arrows falling down upon us all was NOT normal.
I gripped Evie’s hand tighter as I whirled us around as a fresh wave of jagged death hissed through the wind, aimed straight at us.
The garden erupted with the screech and stench of fear.
My own terror shot up my spine, my protective spell wavering, as I saw the arrows hitting every body unlucky to cross their paths. Blue, green, red, it didn’t matter.
Everyone here was a target.
Who had the balls to attack the Protectorate, the Serpents, and the Blood Brotherhood at a Clan wedding?
This is impossible.
Someone was either stupid or powerful enough to even dare strike all of us.
Or both.
I pulled Evie underneath the altar arch, seeking cover between the twisted wood, ivy, and myrtle flowers, which should have signified a grand, eternal union, not a bloody massacre. The priest cowered underneath the arch, holding his sacred book to his chest like it could cast a protective ward, lips moving fast as he uttered a desperate prayer, begging the gods to protect him.
I clutched Evie’s shoulders, trying to hide my fear and failing.
“Find the stone steps, go to the grotto, get on the boat.” My voice cracked and I hated it and myself. “You don’t stop until you reach the stronghold in Aquila. You do not look back–"
Evie jutted out that stubborn Vegheara chin we all had. "I’m not leaving without you. These people are dyi–"
I was dying inside because my people were being slaughtered and I was powerless to stop it. “You can’t help anyone. Someone has voided our magic, Evie!”
The words I’d never thought I’d utter tasted bitter on my lips.
I was supposed to protect them. Each and every one of them. I was the First Daughter they all looked to for guidance. But they were dying all around me.
Evie needed to understand. She didn’t have the training we all carried, the bruises, the scars.
She needed to escape.
If I died, she’d have–
An arrow hissed through the ivy, right between the two of us.
Blood sprayed the side of my face.
Hot, metallic, andwrong.
I turned with horror, only to see the priest’s body falling between me and Evie, an arrow shot straight through his left eye.
His remaining eye, wide with disbelief, was fixed on me like an accusation.
Like he’d waited for me to save him.
Like he’d expected it from the First Daughter.
And I’d let him die.
The arrow had taken him, not me, though we were both trembling barely a breath away from each other.
I recoiled, yanking my hands away from Evie as he tumbled, like I’d never seen death before.
He fell with a final, sickening thump, his book trampled by the dozens of people rushing past in a blind panic.
