Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy #2) - C.N. Crawford Page 0,20

pasture and site of the witch-hanging tree. Later, the British had used it as a camp for their soldiers during the American Revolution. It was only in the early years of the 19th century that the city had designated it a park.

Now, for the first time in its long history, it would be a battlefield.

I still wondered if I’d see Ali here, or if my visit from her had been a figment of my imagination.

Next to me, Revna shifted nervously. “Where are they?”

“They’ll be here soon.” My voice was quiet. I fought the urge to run across the Common, to search for Ali. I had to be patient and trust that she would be fine.

I glanced at the sky, now tinged with the faintest stain of peach. Dusk was almost upon us. If the Night Elves didn’t show up before the sun set, they’d forfeit the Winnowing entirely. And if that happened, I was certain Gorm would use it as an excuse to destroy them once and for all.

Behind us, the sun dipped lower, and shadows darkened the alleys between the townhouses along Beacon Street. I rolled my shoulders, trying to relieve the tension in my muscles. If this were a thousand years ago, my body would be electrified with battle fury. I’d already be looking forward to dipping my sword in enemy blood, dedicating each death to Freyr. As a lich, I’d forgotten the gods entirely for a thousand years. And now their loss had come roaring back to me.

But Freyr was dead; none of this meant anything anymore, and my mate was out there, in danger. The thrill of battle was as dead as the gods, and I only wanted Ali in my arms again.

If we won the Winnowing, my father would destroy the Night Elves. But if we lost, I’d be the first one the Night Elves tried to kill when they came into power. They wouldn’t succeed, but I’d have to exile myself.

The only question was if Ali would join me.

I clenched my jaw, trying not to think about her. She’d visited me then left, literally throwing herself out my window. Part of me wondered if some strange magic was at work, but she’d seemed as solid as the floor beneath my feet.

“There.” Revna pointed into the distance. “Do you see them?”

I squinted, wishing, not for the first time, that I had a bit of Ali’s Night Elf eyesight to help see in the dark. At this distance, I could discern only shadows—but then I spotted figures moving quietly between the red brick buildings. When they stepped into the light, I recognized the silver hair of the Dokkalfar. Definitely Night Elves. My heart quickened.

“They’re here,” I said.

Slowly, the Night Elves filed into the Common. My stomach tightened. Though there were three hundred of them, the same number as in our cohort, there looked to be far fewer.

They looked small, weak. Easy to break. Emaciated, their arms were sinewy. They brandished a motley collection of swords and shields. Worse, while I was dressed in a full suit of plate armor, I didn’t see so much as a single link of chainmail among them. They were woefully unprepared for the fight to come. Clearly, they’d agreed to this out of complete desperation. They were out here fighting for survival, sacrificing three hundred in an attempt to save the rest.

My stomach sank as they formed up into a loose line facing us. Fear coursed through my veins, as cold as the snow at my feet. If we were British soldiers, the Night Elves were the Minutemen. And, like the British soldiers at the first Battle of Lexington, I knew with gut-wrenching certainty I was about to participate in a bloody massacre.

I scanned the faces of the Night Elves. I couldn’t see Ali anywhere, but presumably, she was among them. Once I found her, I would have to do everything in my power to protect her. I had to keep her alive.

Even if I hadn’t seen her in my vision of the future, Wyrd had bound our souls, and I felt that more strongly than anything.

Again, I scanned the line of Night Elves. Worry snaked up my spine. She’d told me she’d received a mark. Where was she?

My muscles tensed as a shout rose from our ranks. King Gorm had begun to stride along the front of our line. Dressed in gold plate with an ivory cape slung over his shoulders, he looked every part the military commander. I wondered

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