21

Kaylin

It’s a fine battle. I’m drenched in blood and water, smack in the center of the best massacre I’ve seen for some time. No reveling in it, though. A hundred horsed Aturnians and their new Gollnar friends are apparently about to run us down, with a thousand more to follow. Does Teern know about this alliance, I wonder? He’d have a spy or two in that camp, surely. But for now, I focus on escape, seeing only one way.

“They’re coming.” Ash jumps from her perch on the rock wall. “Too many to count,” she says louder, startling when Marcus emerges from the ravine, supported between Samsen and Piper. “Is he all right?”

“He will be.” Piper sounds proud. “Let’s get him on his horse.”

Ash heads for the frightened black mare. “Let me.”

Echo stands next to the Aturnian captain’s broken body, anchored by her reins tangled in his dead grip. I soften as I watch Ash soothe the animal. She has a way…

“Easy, girl.” She strokes the horse’s neck before prying the captain’s fingers open to release the mare’s reins. Once done, she lingers. Something attracts her attention on the ground.

“Quick is best, lass,” I call. “Company’s coming.”

Ash wrenches her gaze from the severed arm and leads the horse toward me. Samsen has Rita and Frost, but that is all. Belair’s bay is dead lame. He untacks it and shoos it away, tears in his eyes as the animal lingers over the donkey flattened into the road. The other horses, including Piper’s, are gone. As Ash leads Echo toward me, she passes a scout’s corpse slumped against the bank. His hand is up over his head, as if even in death he tries to ward off the assault. She stares for a moment and I see what catches her eye. A tattoo on the inside of his wrist. The Twin Suns.

My body stills as my mind races.

It can’t be. Not yet.

Marcus stirs, his hair thick with mud, blood running down the side of his face. “Well done, Heir. They didn’t have a chance against your warrior.” I have new respect for him. My plan for escape wasn’t nearly as fantastic.

Marcus gives a satisfied smile, though it obviously pains him. The fall wouldn’t have been pleasant. I lift Marcus into the saddle. He flops forward and we secure him in that position with straps from the donkey’s harness.

“We have to ride, and fast.” I go to Rita as Piper hoists herself behind Marcus.

“There’s no escape,” Samsen says. “This road leads straight toward the enemy.”

“Not that way.” I indicate the cliff. “Take the trail down to the Ferus River.”

“What trail?” Piper peers into the ravine.

I point to a deer track snaking over the edge. “At the bottom, there’s a path through paperbark trees. If the river runs high, we can board the ferry and haul ourselves across.”

“What keeps the Aturnians from following?” she asks.

“Once on the other side, we cut the ferry loose.”

Piper nods. “And if the water’s low?”

“We ford the river and keep running.”

“Do it,” Marcus says through his tangled hair. Piper throws her weight back as far as she can and urges Echo down the cliff. I watch until the mare’s black rump fishtails over the edge.

“Belair, you take Frost,” Samsen shouts above the downpour. “Ash, grab the extra saddlebags.”

Ash slings them over Rita’s shoulders as rain pounds her head, parting her hair down the middle.

“Ride, lass.” I boost her into the saddle.

“What about you and Samsen?”

“We’ll catch up.” A spear zings in and lands an arm’s length from us. Foot soldiers charge up the road with blades drawn. “To the river!” I shout and slap Rita on the rump. The gray mare leaps over the cliff, Ash clinging tight to stay in the saddle.

With her away, I turn to face the enemy, a grin bursting free. My blade! I spot it in the wreckage and sweep it up. Ah, but the sword feels good in my hand as Samsen and I meet the attack. There are only ten in total, but not far behind are a score more on horseback. I cut the last of the ten down and Samsen and I sprint away. The cliff is slick but the rain a blessing. I slide down and hit the trail at high speed. The rain plummets in sheets, and I can see only a few lengths in front and to the sides.

Ash, I think to myself. The distance stretches out between us and I can’t quite steady my feelings. But then she appears, waiting for me, halfway to the bottom of the ravine.

“I said to run, lass.”

“Just jump on the horse.” She has her foot out of the stirrup, holding Rita on the muddy slope. Samsen swings up behind Belair, who waits as well.

I sheathe the blade and vault into the saddle, my arms going around her tight. “To those scrub oaks.” I lick the fresh water off my lips and speak into her ear. “Thank you.”

Her breath comes in a gasp, and warmth spreads up her neck to her face.

For me, the sensations are all-consuming. Who is this wordsmith from Baiseen? I will make it my calling to find out.

We take off, slowing only to negotiate the narrow turns and rain-slick drop-offs. Again, I wonder how I have come to be on the back of a horse, my arms around this brilliant scribe, my sword singing with enemy blood? It’s not a question to answer but to relish.

I check over my shoulder as mounted Aturnians spill down the cliff behind us. Their horses don’t hesitate, so we’re barely in the lead.

Ash’s heart pounds through her sheepskin coat. I close my eyes for an instant, shutting out every other sound in the world but her racing lub-dub, lub-dub. I deliberately draw in a single breath and with it comes her scent. I can taste it on my lips, ocean and lilacs and a drop of blood. I savor her nearness for a moment more, then jump off the horse.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes are wide, rainwater running down her nose and spilling from the corners of her mouth.

“Slowing them down.” I hit the ground hard and turn to face the enemy. “Ride, Ash. I’ll meet you at the river.”

She hesitates as a spear flies straight toward my chest. I swerve to the side and grab it out of the air. The friction burns my hand, but I hold on and dig in my heels, sliding with it. In one quick snap of my wrist, I reverse the weapon and hurl it back at its owner. It goes right through the lead Aturnian. His horse careens in another direction as the rider falls to the ground. “Ride, Ash!” I draw my sword and charge. “All of you, ride!” But I’m not alone. The eagle phantom flies above, and the healer’s serpent streams behind.

I’m impressed by the raptor. It fights well as it breaks necks with a quick twist of its powerful talons, rending its victims like down-stuffed pillows. The healer’s serpent bites its prey half a chain away, injecting venom, dropping horses and then the riders. As more Aturnians attack, I slash and stab, taking an Aturnian blade in my left hand as well, cutting down the enemy.

“Tutapa!” I let loose my home island’s battle cry. As I stand at the bottom of the ravine, rain-soaked and flinging blood from my blade, the road above shakes with more and more galloping hooves. I signal the raptor phantom, then turn to the snake. “Go!”

The serpent disappears into the ground and I know Piper has received the message. Now it’s just dodge the arrows flying at my back and make it to the Ferus River, to my lass, ahead of this mob. The rain falls in buckets. With any luck, the river runs high.