A Prince Among Killers - By J. B. Redmond Page 0,149
of her cousin and wrapped her sobbing twin in her arms. For long moments, Dari could do nothing but savor their connection even as she searched through the Veil for some hint of her husband and grandfather, or of Aron, or Stormbreaker.
Graal energy was still so muted from the attack of the children Thorn had stolen and trained for their own purposes. Dari wondered what had become of the poor little creatures. They were dead, surely, and if so, Dari hoped Lady Pravda had perished with them.
Stregans still in dragon-form surrounded them, an impenetrable wall of claws and teeth and fire. Beyond them, Sabor formed ranks in their gryphon forms, adding another layer of protection. No arrow or spear or pike would penetrate this wall of flesh and scales and fur.
Dari located her grandfather and joined her energy with his just in time to feel the rattling jolt of sword on bone.
Through her grandfather’s eyes, Dari watched as Lord Brailing’s helm flew off.
The old wretch spewed blood from between his pale lips, then fell forward as Lord Ross yanked his blade free of the man’s half-severed neck.
Kate and Dari snarled together, one sound, both human and Stregan, welcoming this victory, and letting Lord Ross know they were both alive and safe.
His shout of joy rang across the battlefield, and across the Veil.
Dari felt the shifts in energy as Platt directed and controlled the Stregans with his graal, working with their untamed energy, never allowing them to break free and feed on friends as well as foes. He dispersed most of the manes and mockers and beasts tearing into the armies of Eyrie. Those creatures attacking Brailing and Altar forces, he left alone, except to make certain they didn’t advance on the soldiers of Dyn Cobb or Dyn Ross.
Dyn Mab’s soldiers were the most numerous, but seemingly the most confused. They attacked without sense or direction, both a menace and a help, and Dari couldn’t understand their purpose as they plunged the battlefield back into absolute chaos.
Platt’s dark eyes weren’t focused on anything save for the main gate and keep of Triune. “You’re with child,” he said, matter-of-fact, and Dari turned Kate loose when she realized Platt was speaking to her.
Her hand moved to her belly, and Kate’s hand slid across hers. Kate’s dark eyes widened as they both took in the stirring of life in Dari’s womb.
“A son,” Kate whispered. “A son with powerful graal. Stregan and Mab energy joined together—just as the rectors tried to do during the mixing disasters, but failed so many times.” She paused, then added, “That’s good, Dari. For us, for Eyrie, I think.”
Platt grunted his agreement, then pointed to the tallest point on the right tower of the main gate and keep. “Would that be the father?”
Dari’s gaze whipped toward the tower, and her awareness leaped through the Veil.
Nic.
Cayn’s mercy.
Her husband was perched on the tallest point of the tower’s roof.
Nic! she called across the Veil, but he didn’t seem to hear her. His mind was so focused on his task that he had closed out the rest of the world.
As Dari watched, clinging to Kate and crying out with all the force left in her body, Nic spread his arms and leaped off Triune’s tower.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
NIC
Air blasted against Nic’s face and body, tearing at his skin, his senses, his mind as he dropped toward the hard battlefield ground below.
His stomach lurched upward, just like before, like the weightless blankness nothingness that took him when he sailed off the castle turret at Can Rowan.
What happened then was clear to him now.
I reached for something and grabbed hold of the future.
I called the future to me.
And I flew.
The ground seemed closer, and closer still.
He doubled his fists.
The miracle had to happen again, before he died, before Mab’s soldiers killed their countrymen and one another, before Eyrie descended into war after war, until there was nothing left but death and suffering.
If Nic didn’t unite his people, no one would.
The muscles in his back tore and ripped, and Nic shouted from the fresh agony, suspended in time, but not in space.
He threw the force of his will behind his intent, and with every bit of graal available to him, he pulled Eyrie’s future into his mind, into his essence. He let the future explode from the cells of his body, from his fingertips and toes, from his screaming mouth and disintegrating bones.
Heat rushed through him like the wind, transforming him into something beyond his own flesh.