Page 65 of Veinblood
He’s good. Better than most. But I’ve got years of pent up fury, and he’s fighting in my domain. I feint left, then reverse direction. My blade slides past his guard and opens his throatto the spine. Blood fountains across the rocks. He tries to curse me, but only blood spills out, and he collapses, body twitching before going still.
“They’re all dead.” One of our fighters comes up behind me, breathing hard. Blood runs from a cut on his forehead.
I look around at the carnage. Bodies are scattered across the rocks like broken dolls. Blood pools in the cracks between stones. The water runs red where Nyassa’s flood swept the dead downstream.
Fifty-seven soldiers came to take us. Fifty-seven soldiers died among these rocks. None are left alive to report our location or the direction we’re going to take when we leave.
Weakness spreads through my limbs. I’d forgotten the price of channeling this much power in such a short space of time. My hands shake slightly, and there’s an ache behind my eyes that warns of depleted strength. Shadows respond slower to my call now. I’ve drawn too heavily on Voidcraft and shadows, pushed beyond what I should without rest, and exhaustion sinks bone-deep, but I force my stance to remain steady. Three hundred lives are depending on leadership that shows no weakness.
I walk slowly back toward Whiterock, taking stock of casualties. Six of our fighters bear wounds. A crossbolt took Kael in the shoulder. Dren’s arm hangs useless from a sword cut. All but three have survived, and that’s all that matters.
We gather in the main cavern where Stonehaven’s people wait. The wounded receive what treatment our supplies allow.
Nyassa leans against the wall, her face pale. The water magicshe wielded during the battle has clearly taken its toll, but like me she masks it well, straightening whenever anyone looks her way.
“The Authority patrols have been dealt with,” I say to the gathered people. “But Whiterock is no longer safe. We need to move everyone before more soldiers come.”
Greenvale represents the only real hope for shelter. If they reject us, it could result in the deaths of our most vulnerable.
The northwest pull tugs at my consciousness as we plan our route. Ellie’s presence calling to me across the distance, stronger than it was in Chicago. Part of me wants to abandon everything, and race toward her with a single-minded focus, but duty anchors me here among those who depend on my leadership. Three hundred souls moving through mountain passes because I am convinced we can trust in the mercy of strangers.
“You keep looking northwest,” Varam says quietly. “Is something wrong?”
“I can feel her.” I don’t need to tell him who I’m talking about. “She’s distant, but she’s alive.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Just that she is somewhere in that direction.” I gesture northwest. “And she’s scared.”
Varam studies my face in the flickering light. “She’s strong. She’s a survivor. You need to focus on what you can control.”
His words anchor me to the present. Focus on the people here. On the choices that matter now. Let the future take care of itself.
“Prepare everyone. We will leave for Greenvale at first light.”
Soon we will discover whether compassion can overcome fear, whether memory proves stronger than Authority intimidation.
And if one blacksmith’s courage can save three hundred lives.
Chapter Nineteen
ELLIE
“The condemned often carry the keys to their own liberation.”
Fragments of the Lost Veinwardens
The world tilts sideways,and I have to grip the edge of the table to keep myself steady.
There are Veinblood families who survived the purges.
The words refuse to settle into anything that makes sense.
Survived?How is that possible?
Sacha told me the Authority wiped out all the bloodlines, and hunted Veinbloods to extinction. He witnessed it,livedit. But these people are sitting across from me saying otherwise.
“How many?” I have to force the words past lips that feel numb.
