57

Ash

“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?” After making it down the three-story-high building, I haven’t let go of Kaylin, forcing him to swing his blade one-handed. I’m wielding a short sword with my free hand as well, but even so…

He drops his eyes to where I cling to his sleeve. “You could never hold me back, lass.”

“Liar.” A dozen times already I’ve nearly been killed by the swinging blades of enemy phantoms and savants. Ousters slam us into walls and callers snatch our weapons away as quickly as we pick up new ones. Many of the warrior phantoms are short and strong-limbed, like Destan’s, and fast as snakes, armed with spears and blades, spiked balls and war hammers. The main boulevard is slick with blood. Puddles and streaks of it. The catapults knocked the strength out of us before we knew what was coming.

Kaylin motions to the south. “The other side of the field. By that line of trees near the stables. They’re moving off the road.”

The field is filled with phantoms and savants who fight each other around mounds of debris, twisted doors, upturned carts, and strewn bricks. “I don’t have your eagle eyes.”

“Trust me.” Kaylin takes my hand and we’re off.

We cut our way through, but by the time we reach the center of the field, the enemy closes in again. Kaylin loses his sword to an ouster and sends his other toward it, end over end, skewering the phantom through the middle. I cringe as it starts to gush ichor and more ousters step up, twitching their fingers, gathering air. My arm falls, aching as I use both hands to hold the thin blade in front of me. It’s not much of a shield. The ousters have a straight shot to us, and I can’t see a way out until spotting a flatbed wagon with big iron wheels. “There.” I point, meaning we can hide under it, but Kaylin has another idea.

He pulls the wagon around, tipping it on its side with some kind of leverage. I can’t see how he does it, but we jump behind as the first blast strikes. It blows off the wheels and flings them through the air like saucers. The next strike hits harder, pushing us back, wagon and all, as we brace behind the floorboards. Another hit and the metal straps rip from the wood and the whole thing breaks apart, leaving us exposed again.

“I’ll be right back.” Kaylin takes my sword and springs into the air, disappearing as I crouch low, covering my head with my hands.

The next blast never comes.

When I peek around the rubble, Kaylin is bounding back to me, a blade in each hand, face splattered with blood, smile bold as dawn.

“You got them?” I ask, taking one of the swords.

“And their savants.” He offers his hand again. “This way.”

“He’s quite talented with a sword.”

I fight for my life and this is what my inner voice wants to comment on? Where have you been?

“You seemed busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

I shake my head, too distracted to answer.

By the time we reach the other side of the field, we run without challenge, the battleground littered with bodies. The gates have fallen, and the stable is demolished, the roof gone. Rock, rubble, and blood cover the road. Broken bodies and crushed bones are everywhere. My eyes well and the tears fall unchecked. “Marcus?” I can’t see him anywhere.

“Over here.” Kaylin leads me around the corpses, but my boots don’t always come to rest on hard ground.

“Ash! Kaylin!” Samsen calls.

I see them! Off to the side of the road.

When we’re a few steps away, my hand goes to my mouth as my stomach heaves.

Marcus looks like raw meat. His phantom’s gone to ground, the ruin around us overwhelming. Belair lies unconscious with a terrible bleeding wound on his chest and face. Piper’s phantom has its double-headed fangs into both of them. I drop to my knees beside Marcus, not knowing where to touch or how to help. Tears well again as I hold his beautiful tapered fingers in my hand. His palms are full of holes and packed with blood and dirt. He is so badly harmed, I can’t make out where one wound ends and another begins. “Marcus,” I whisper and press my forehead lightly to his. He doesn’t seem to know I’m here. “Marcus, you’re going to be fine.”

I feel Kaylin’s hand on my shoulder and turn to look up at him.

“We have to get off the island,” he says softly, his eyes on Marcus.

“Retreat to the ravine,” Piper says. Her snake releases Marcus and Belair before entwining her neck. “We’ll make a plan there, out of sight.”

Marcus stirs and turns toward me, and I’m forced to swallow back tears. “Where’s my sword?” His voice is gravelly, his eyes swollen to little more than slits. I am certain he can’t see a thing through them.

“You’ll not be needing it just now,” Samsen says. He and Piper pull Marcus up and walk him toward the deep ravine to the right of the road. I grab his sword while Kaylin hoists Belair over his shoulder as if he were a sack of feathers. At the bottom of the narrow ravine, we stop to assess.

“I suggest you take the Heir back to his realm as fast as you can,” Kaylin says. “Aku has lost this fight.”

“Agreed, but how?” Samsen asks. “We’ve seen the docks and the southwest shore. They’re ringed with warships.”

“We could work our way north and hide, but without supplies, stretchers to carry them…” Piper doesn’t have to finish her thought.

“Aye, Aku’s besieged,” Kaylin says. “But I know a way off the island, if we go now.”

We all stare at him.

“The leeward cove, one bay over from the main docks. There’s a small sloop there, not heavily guarded.” He tilts his head skyward. “Send your hawk to confirm, but I guarantee it’s the only way out.”

Piper looks from Kaylin to Samsen. “The road’s swarming with enemy phantoms, and the beaches are full of savants.”

“Trust me,” Kaylin says. “I can secure the ship.”

“With Belair over your shoulder?” I ask.

“I might have to put him down for a moment.”

Samsen and Piper seem skeptical but relent. “What choice do we have?” Samsen asks.

“Follow along with Marcus as you can.” Kaylin adjusts the unconscious Belair. “I’ll have the ship ready.”

“I’m coming with you,” I say.

Kaylin nods and we take off toward the leeward cove.