Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,145

torn, feeling pulled in two directions. Do we investigate the darkness of the forest, or follow the sea elf’s prediction and head towards the sea? The army travelled through the forest and didn’t notice anything. Could the darkness have been cloaked in some way? The queen has to be somewhere, there’s no way she would have abandoned Galandell.

Feeling sick with indecision, I touch my goddess mark, opening my mouth to ask her advice when a shout fills the air. It’s from deep in the city, close to the palace. The sound is full of terror, and it cuts off abruptly. Eyes wide, I spin to look at my mates. Another scream sounds, closer this time.

“Forsaken!”

The cry echoes through the city, and for a few seconds, we’re all frozen in place, staring at each other as the messenger comes running into the square. He bends over at the waist, panting as he tries to catch his breath.

“They’re climbing up the cliffs!”

“Mother above,” I curse, realising what happened. In washing the forsaken away, I’ve simply delayed the inevitable. The only way to kill them is to behead and burn the bodies. How could we have been so stupid? I chide. We let our guard down, and now we will pay for it. I can only imagine the horror of the forsaken silently climbing up the cliff face and dragging our warriors over the edge. We may have given ourselves some time, and now we have the high ground, but I should have foreseen this.

Several curses ring out as they realise the same thing I do.

“Everyone into position!” Revna shouts, but many are already moving, hurrying through the square and down roads towards their warriors, shouting orders as they go. I notice Speaker Beck reaches for a seashell that hangs around his neck. Raising it to his lips, he tips his head back and blows with all his strength. A sound louder than I would have expected reverberates all around us. Dropping the shell, he bows his head to me in farewell before running through the city to join his people.

With a sudden bolt of horror, I realise we’re missing someone. “Where’s Naril?” How could I have not noticed before? Guilt and fear tears through me, my mind imagining situation after situation where he’s alone and in trouble.

Turning to Eldrin, I see he’s tense, his face set in a grimace, but he’s not freaking out like I thought he would be. “He took a group of elves to check the other side of the city.”

Swearing, I stare into the city as if I can see through the buildings and discover where my friend is. I want to go and find him, but I know we can’t, we need to find the queen. My heart breaks at the thought of abandoning my friend, but I know he would understand and tell me not to waste time looking for him.

Vaeril closes the gap between us, placing his hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be fine, he’s a fierce warrior.”

I know people are waiting on my decision, but I have to give Eldrin this choice. People are shouting and running around us, and I can hear the clash of weapons and screams of battle getting closer. Turning to my mate, I grip his arm. “Go find your brother.”

He surprises me by firmly shaking his head. “No, he can defend himself. He has centuries’ worth of training, while you’ve had less than a year. You need me.” I don’t feel any guilt from him through our connection, but what I do feel are the words he doesn’t say. While I may need him, he needs me just as badly.

A loud booming noise begins to shake the ground, and everything seems to move in slow motion as forsaken come streaming out from the buildings around us. My mates gather around me in a protective circle, my staff passed to me by unseen hands. Jacob and his human guards run over to battle a group of them, but before long, I lose track of them because the forsaken are on us. Their dead eyes and unrelenting attacks just keep coming. I don’t know if Grayson was expected elsewhere, but he stays with us, his hands glowing with magic as he blasts our foes away. My skin buzzes with the amount of magic in the air, both from him and the other mages, all my movements feeling sluggish. Tor is like a whirlwind, his axe swinging wildly as he roars his