Igniting Darkness (Courting Darkness Duology #2) - Robin LaFevers Page 0,142

invisible signal, they all shove a wooden rod into the powder chamber and tamp down, the faint crunch of the powder no louder than the sleepy stomp of a horse’s hoof.

Then Lazare gives the signal, and we all scramble back, all except the six charbonnerie who will light the cannon. We retrace our steps, stopping when we are about half a mile away.

But it is not far enough. When the explosion comes, it feels as if it rips the very world in two. Brilliant orange light erupts from the camp, so bright we must look away as it shatters the silence and pulls the ground out from underneath our feet. The sound of it slams into our ears with such force that they ring like bells.

Beast looks at Sybella. “They will have heard that from Vannes to Guingamp.”

“Then we’d best be on our way.”

The Arduinnites have our horses saddled and ready to go when we reach camp, the charbonnerie close on our heels. They are fair humming with a nearly frenetic energy, wide grins splitting their soot-and-grime-covered faces.

“Come on,” Beast says, climbing onto his horse. “You can congratulate yourselves once we’re far enough away.”

Although we have decided to head north, we strike out in an easterly direction in order to cut a wide berth around Rohan’s lands. Beast is right. The explosion was likely heard for miles, and those who didn’t hear it will see the smoke soon enough.

* * *

Perhaps it is that thought that has my nerves strung tight, but the farther away we ride, the faster my heart races. At first I think it is merely the shock of it all—so many deaths, all the souls, the heartbeats. Not to mention the thunder of the explosion. I cannot tell if my ears are still throbbing from that or if—no. Are those hoofbeats in the distance? I tighten my hand on the reins to stop the jingling of my horse’s bridle, and listen. There are no hoofbeats. All is quiet.

Too quiet.

That is when I realize I’m not hearing anything, but feeling hearts beating in my chest again. More death is coming. I only have time to call out, “Ambush!” before a volley of arrows flies out of the trees. Pale glints of silver and flashes of movement lurk just beyond the forest’s edge—but they stay back for now, letting their archers do the work. I draw my sword and raise my cloak, although it is thin protection against arrows. The swell of heartbeats thudding in my chest grows.

I do not know how—some new gift from my god or simply from having lived together these last few weeks, but I recognize two of the heartbeats.

“Beast! Poulet!” I scream. “Get down!”

Both men throw themselves from their horses, tucking and rolling as they hit the ground, coming up with their swords raised as two arrows arc over their saddles.

Another familiar heartbeat. I whip around, trying to locate—“Lazare!” He flings himself to the ground in time to avoid the arrow aimed at his back. Quiet as smoke, the other charbonnerie slip from their horses onto the ground, staying low as they crawl toward the cover of the trees.

There is a shift among our attackers then, and I can almost feel the unseen archers aiming for me. My warnings have made me a target.

As the Arduinnite next to me takes an arrow in the arm, I yank my leg from its stirrup, then leap to the ground, the faint whistling of an arrow nearly parting my hair as I land. The injured Arduinnite and her sisters wheel their horses around and ride into the trees at the opposite side of the clearing. Within moments, they begin returning fire, shooting at an angle to avoid us and direct their fire into the trees. Soon, the arrows raining down on us begin to diminish.

As they slow, I hear the incongruent note of a thrush, then the mounted knights emerge from their hiding places into the clearing. “The rest are coming!” I shout.

The charge of the attack frightens the riderless horses, who bolt. But Beast already has a hand on his panicking mount and manages to leap onto its back. A maniacal gleam shines in his eyes as he rises up in his stirrups, battle-ax in one hand, sword in the other.

The pounding of hooves and clashing of blades is so loud it nearly drowns out the score of heartbeats thundering in my chest. I draw my sword and try to pick out any familiar beats,