Alyna dismounted Syra and walked over to Dalgron. Guards surrounded her, but they didn’t touch her. She knew one wrong move would change that.
“I thought you were one of mine,” Nemia said to her.
“You were wrong,” Alyna replied. “Let him go.”
Nemia threw her head back, laughing. “You make such a grand demand, but who has the upper hand here? Who has had the upper hand all this time? Despite your little deception with Vron, I’m still winning.”
Alyna winced at the mention of Vron. The thought of him lying dead on the ground sickened her. But she had to continue to fight. It’s what he would have wanted.
“Winning implies losing.” Alyna looked around. “It appears the orcs are still fighting. The battle rages on.”
“It’s only a matter of time.” Nemia’s lips pursed.
Good. Alyna knew her words were getting to the child. And really, that’s what Nemia was. Despite all her bluster, she was an untried child, playing at war games. She knew nothing of what she was doing. Whether she realized it or not, she was a puppet of Azlinar’s, and Alyna couldn’t wait to open her eyes to the truth.
“And once it’s over and all the orcs are dead?” Alyna said. “At least all the healthy orcs. You’ll be left with an army of undead. If you think the other orc cities will stand for this—”
“They will follow me! They will fear me, and they,” Nemia glared at Dalgron, “will bend the knee.”
“No,” Alyna said. “They will come to fight, and they will be infected by the virus that has mutated so many orcs into, well, whatever Azlinar has created. You will single-handedly cause the destruction of orckind as you know it. No one will remember you as a great queen. You will be the orc who decimated her own kind.”
“Don’t listen to them,” Azlinar said from under his heavy cowl.
Alyna could barely see his face. Just the tip of his hooked nose and one tusk sticking out to the side, deformed.
Nemia looked up at Azlinar, her eyes clouded and intense. Then she turned back to Alyna and Dalgron. “Kill him, but keep her alive.”
“What?” Alyna screamed.
The guards next to Dalgron ran him through before she could do anything to stop them. He sputtered blood from his lips, then collapsed to the ground with a thud.
“How—how dare you?” Alyna screeched.
Nemia mounted her horse as if she were preparing for an afternoon jaunt in the forest. “You will stay alive to eat your words. You will see what we have planned, and you will come to me one day, begging for forgiveness.”
“I’d rather die,” Alyna said through gritted teeth.
“Not today.” Nemia turned to her guards. “Keep an eye on her. Make sure she sees everything that happens. And for Drothu’s sake, don’t let her kill herself. And you,” she pointed to another guard, “get her horned horse and take it away. I may want it for myself later.” She kicked her horse and took off, galloping toward the edge of the encampment. Azlinar followed.
“No!” Alyna yelled again. “Not Syra. Run, girl, get far away from here!”
Syra’s eyes widened as two guards closed in on her. She bent her head down, pointing her horn at them. Before the orcs could react, she gored one right through the gut. She lifted her head, shook her strong neck, and flung his dying body at the other guard.
“Leave!” Alyna shouted. “We will find each other again!” Two guards grabbed her biceps, holding her, keeping her from running to Syra.
With a curt nod, Syra took off running, stabbing anyone who got in her way. She broke through the battle, then stopped at the edge and turned around. She let out a magnificent whinny, and her horn lit up. Then she ran off, just as Alyna had begged.
Alyna’s stomach roiled as she turned back to the still-raging battle. Orcs fell all around her so quickly she couldn’t even tell which side they were on. Maybe they didn’t know either. Was Nemia’s army so out of control that they were taking down their own orcs? Alyna could only hope. Perhaps Azlinar didn’t have as much control over them as he made it seem.
Alyna knew there was no point in struggling against the tight grips of her captors. Once more, she would have to rely on her wits. She wouldn’t just stand there and watch. She wouldn’t allow Dalgron and Vron to have died in vain. She had come to Agitar to help them fight—and against an evil greater than these orcs. This was only a distraction. She knew the real battle was against the being behind the xarlug, the being who was still now plotting against them far underground.
Alyna tried turning around. She wanted to see Azlinar. Really look at him. “Let me go!” she yelled at her captors. “I want to turn around.”
“The queen said you are to watch the battle, and watch it you will,” one of the guards said. He held his free hand over his eyes.
“It’s too bright out here for you, isn’t it?” Alyna said, trying to conjure up a mote of sympathy in her tone. “After all those years underground, I bet it’s hard for you to see.”
“Shut up. He’s fine,” the other guard said. “Another word and I’ll gut you.”
“I don’t think so,” Alyna answered. “Not unless you want to go against direct orders from your queen. She said to hold me and let me watch the battle. She said I am to live. If you kill me, I doubt you’ll live much longer.”
“She’s right,” the first guard replied, still shielding his eyes from the bright midday sun.
“Then why don’t we move under the shade of that tree?” Alyna suggested, pointing to the north. “You’ll be able to see better.”
“It’s not the worst idea,” the first orc said. “My eyes are killing me. I have no idea why anyone would live aboveground when the sun wants to blind them.”
Alyna kept her mouth shut. She thrived aboveground. The trees, the clouds, the grass, and even the sun were her lifeline. Underground she’d wanted to shrivel up and die. She probably would have if Vron hadn’t nursed her back to health.
“Fine, but don’t try anything funny,” the second guard said.
The guards walked over to the shade of the tree, gripping Alyna tightly with every step. She didn’t try to run. Not yet. There was something she needed to see first, something that had struck her when she’d first come up to Nemia and Azlinar. Under the tree, she’d be at the right angle to see her enemies, as well as the battle they so desperately wanted her to witness.
With a small turn of her head, Alyna was able to see Nemia and Azlinar’s horses just on the edges of the battle. Nemia’s horse cast a great shadow on the ground, and her body atop it was outlined in gray on the prairie grass. But as for Azlinar… his horse cast a long shadow, but there was no shadow of the orc atop the horse.
It was as if he wasn’t even really there.