Page 271 of When Sisters Collide
Alena blinked. “What?”
“The tribesmen—they’re attacking our rear line,” he gasped. “One of the Rasennan legates is controlling them. Mind magic. They’re not themselves.”
“Legate Tarxi,” Leukos spat the name like venom.
A cold knot twisted in Alena’s stomach, but before she could reply, a clap of thunder shattered the sky, followed by a blinding flash of lightning that illuminated the battlefield.
The bolt struck with ruthless precision, tearing into the attackers. Screams ripped through the air as men fell, bodies flung aside, scorched and smoking.
Leukos didn’t flinch. “The Westerners called the Thunder by his true name. And he answered.”
His focus returned to the river, rain streaking his face. Katell was already halfway across—each step unhurried, eerily calm.
“They’ll deal with Tarxi,” Leukos said, “while we hold the line here.”
Alena bit down hard on her lip, forcing her gaze from the chaos behind them to the river ahead. Katell was the threat now.
With a breath, she summoned the Cyprian’s Gift. Magic shimmered across her skin in pearlescent light, forming the mother-of-pearl armour that gleamed with the soft radiance of moonlit coral. Her mother’s torc rested just above the collar, its familiar weight steadying her pulse, anchoring her amid the storm.
Katell appeared, with Dalmatius a few paces behind—and at that moment, Alena saw her chance.
“Keep him busy,” she said to Leukos and Nik. “The Makhai are holding the river. Katell’s exposed—I’m going to try to reach her.”
Nik froze. “You’re going towhat? Gods, Alena?—”
“The sooner we snap her out of it, the sooner we can help Volcos,” Alena cut in, her words clipped and urgent.
Leukos seemed ready to argue, but his attention snapped past Alena, fixed on the river path. “She’s right. The river’s holding them in.” His eyes swept over the channel, calculating. “If we pin them here, they’re trapped—no room to retreat ormanoeuvre. If Katell falters, the Rasennans will drown in their own ambition.”
Nik shook his head. “If Katell doesn’t come to her senses, she’ll strike at Alena first.”
“Then guard her back,” Leukos replied, frost already crawling down his arms to his fingertips. “I’ll keep Dalmatius occupied.”
Lightning forked above, illuminating the valley in stark, unnatural white. Rain poured in sheets as Alena took off, heart pounding. “Buy me time,” she shouted, words nearly lost in the storm’s roar.
Leukos and Nik followed in her wake. Behind them, the wolves loosed a low growl, ears pinned flat as they crept to the river’s edge, watching their rear.
Then all three slipped into the riverbed.
The tumult of wind and battle faded behind the sloped banks, muffled as if buried in stone. Rain still fell, but the wind had calmed, its breath curling in strange, ghostlike echoes along the riverbed walls. Lightning flashed again, its glare fractured by the mist hanging in the air.
Alena pressed on, boots slipping through mud and ankle-deep puddles. The parted waters of the Rodanos quivered just beside her, barely held back by the two Makhai.
The world above was mayhem. But down in the river, the silence was worse.
Katell stood alone, poised in the middle of the path. Her cloak clung to her damp shoulders, hands at her sides, unmoving. Her eyes—blacker than shadow—fixed ahead, holding no recognition. No fury. No fear. Just a hollow, terrible calm.
Nik stepped forward, face grim. “Kat?—”
Dalmatius emerged from the mist, golden breastplate shimmering with magic, coils of flame snaking along his armsand over his shoulders. He walked with the confidence of a man who had already triumphed.
“It’s too late,” he said in flawless Koine, smooth and almost pitying. “She only listens to me now.”
The certainty in his words made Alena’s stomach turn.
Beside her, Nik’s whole body went rigid.
“The fuck she does,” he spat, something raw blazing behind his blue eyes.
