Page 195 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"This way," he said gruffly.
Their small squad headed deeper into the capital, inching their way toward the castle. The destruction grew worse with every block. Somewhere, a loud screech pierced the air, and Kallie gripped her dagger tighter.
Up ahead, she spotted a child who was no more than eight years old tugging on his mother’s arm, pleading for her to get up. Large flakes of ash coated the child’s dark brown hair. The woman sat on the ground with her head leaning against the wall. She must have stopped to catch her breath as they were running out of the capital, believing she and her son were safe enough. Her eyelids were closed, and blood pooled around her. Still, the child knelt beside her, his tears rolling down his round, brown cheeks. Even yards away, Kallie could hear the boy’s sobs and futile attempts to wake his mother.
Another high-pitched, ear-shattering screech sounded from above, closer this time. Kallie tore her gaze away from the pair as a drakonis dug its talons into the brick siding, crushing the material and crumbling it into mere pebbles and dust.
In an instant, Kallie was sprinting, shouting at the child to move, but she knew he wouldn’t abandon his mother and she wouldn’t be able to get there in time.
The wind whipped through her hair, and a shadow rushed past her as Moris flew. He scooped up the child in his arms as thecorner of the building came tumbling down. Chunks of bricks smashed onto the ground where the child had just knelt. If they had arrived one minute later, the child would have been crushed.
Moris swung back around.
Graeson signaled for him to fly away. "Get him out of here!"
Moris nodded, held the child tighter to his chest, and flew past them.
Kallie’s hands flew to her ears when the drakonis roared in anger, the sound pounding against her eardrums at an ear-shattering degree. As the sound reverberated off the surrounding buildings, the ground shook again.
Then she saw it.
A hoard of drakonises barreled toward them. She peeled her hands away from her ears as Graeson ripped his blades from their sheaths.
A dangerous glint glimmered in his moon-bright eyes as if the dragon within was nipping at the edges of its confinement, hungering for blood.
Kallie chanced one glance back, spotting Moris' silhouette disappearing down the street. She took in a deep breath and twisted the dagger in her hand. For the first time in a long time, she was thankful for the training Domitius had put her through. Although he had taken plenty from her, he had at least given her the skills to shout with enough confidence, "For Frenzia!"
Chapter 80
MYRA
As the battle began,the camp quickly fell into disarray. More wounded soldiers arrived, their comrades carrying them back to the camp. Everywhere Myra looked, pain soaked the earth. It drenched her feet and soaked the soles of her shoes. It was like walking through quicksand, but Myra refused to let the stream of emotions drag her down.
She took a deep breath, steadying her racing heart, and kept her back to the capital, where smoke once again filled the skies.
I’ll come back to you.
Laurince’s last words wrapped around her, and she held onto them as tightly as she could. She tried not to think about whether those would be the last words he ever spoke to her, and instead let those words bolster her courage. Hoping and praying he would not be the next body that lay in front of her in anguish as the God of Death dug his claws into his next victim.
She lifted her hand from the soldier’s chest, his brow finally unfurling as she soothed his qualms. A familiar set of wings entered her peripheral, and she looked up.
"Anything?" Myra called out, both craving and fearing an update.
Moris shook his head. He already held the record for the number of return trips. Each time, he came back with no news of Laurince. Myra wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
"No news is often the best news," he reminded her.
Myra pursed her lips and swallowed the rising fear. No news also could mean that Laurince was already gone.
She tried not to think about that too much, though.
"Are Sebastian’s troops letting up at least?" she asked, begging for something that would give her hope. The battle had already been going on for a few hours. How many lives would they have to lose before someone ended it?
When Moris' mouth fell into a flat line, she immediately regretted the question.
"Sometimes, it’s best not to ask," Gerald, the healer, said quietly, peering up at Myra through his thin-rimmed glasses.
"I—I’m sorry," she whispered. "I’m not used to this."
