Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,134

for cover, and for the panicked horses. I can just make out their commander bellowing to ready their own cannon. I feel a tug on my arm and look to see I am the only one standing. I quickly drop to my belly so we will not be spotted, and watch with the others.

A third cannon goes off, fire disgorging over the rampart as the explosion shakes the ground and trembles through my body, causing my bones and innards to rattle. Wood splinters and metal screams as the projectile strikes one of Rohan’s cannon. The men on the ramparts cheer, and it is all I can do not to join them.

A sense of happiness sneaks up on me, catching me unaware. All my life I have searched for happiness, but have never found it, or when I did, it was as fleeting as a glimpse of quicksilver.

But in this moment, I am the happiest I have ever been. It doesn’t matter that what we do is dangerous, or that our lives are in peril. I am surrounded by a newly formed family, and it anchors me to this world as solidly as the roots of an oak tree. I wish to preserve this moment forever, like a stray leaf trapped in ice, but ice that will never melt.

If only Maraud were here.

As the reverberations of the cannon begin to fade, I realize I can feel the beating of a heart. It is faint and far away. Moments later, I feel a soul drift up into the sky buffeted on the wind. It does not rush or feel angry or even carry many images. Perhaps because of the distance. I have only a sense of surprise and disbelief and then it is gone.

Rohan’s men—the ones not laid low by the cannon blast—hesitate for a moment before the commander bellows at them to light their own sodding cannon. As they scramble to do so, I hold my breath. Lazare is the expert and swore it would work, but I will not rest easy until I see with my own eyes that it has.

Two men load the heavy ball into the cannon, while another carefully pours powder from one of the kegs into the powder chamber. Or tries to. He shakes the small barrel, but nothing comes out. He gives a harder shake.

Another blast from the castle scatters them. Although I am growing more used to the sound now, it still feels as if the sky is being torn apart.

This, I think. This is precisely the sort of thing I imagined doing when I joined the convent. Not stealing powder or watching artillery fire, but things that mattered. Things that helped people. Things where I could make a difference. Turn the tides of war. Make desperate bids for victory. Sneak behind enemy lines. Not the endless waiting and making myself small and invisible.

The commander steps around the wounded to see what the matter is. The cannoneer gesticulates wildly, and the commander sends for another keg of the powder. The gunner wrenches it open and tries to pour, but the same thing happens—nothing comes out.

The commander casts it onto the ground, grabs a pike from a nearby infantryman, and stabs it into the barrel, then kneels to examine the black mess.

He looks up and begins shouting, and the cannoneers back away.

“It worked,” I murmur.

Lazare looks wounded. “Did you doubt me?”

“Knowing a miracle will occur does not keep one from marveling when it does.”

He turns away, a hint of a smile curling his lip.

The castle gets off a dozen more cannon shot, leaving the field below in disarray. Lazare pushes to his feet. “I’m going to get closer and see if I can catch wind of which way they will send for more powder. Then we’ll know where to set our ambush. Anyone want to come?” He looks at all of us, but his gaze lingers a moment on me. Aeva, Poulet, and one of the queen’s guards volunteer, but the rest of us stay at camp.

When they have gone, Sybella scoots closer to me, her eyes bright as she nudges me with her shoulder. “I think Lazare likes you.”

“He is enjoyable company.” I keep my eyes on the scene below.

“It would not take much to encourage him.”

“It wouldn’t.”

She draws back to study me. “You aren’t hesitating because he is a charcoal burner?”

I cannot help it. I laugh. “No!” As if I would ever hold anybody’s beginnings against them. After she continues to stare at