Page 250 of A Dawn of Gods & Fury

“Okay.” An unexpected calm washes over me, knowing that after centuries, this is the end. I have my Elijah back, if only for a few moments.

“In Za’hala then,” he rasps.

I lean forward to kiss him. “A fool’s dream.”

His lips pull back with a smile. “A fool in love.” With one final rattling gasp, his heart stops.

I sink into his still body, pushing the blade in deeper, and let the agony turn to numbness, then to nothing, and the sounds of war around us fade away.

91

Romeria

Elisaf acts as my crutch, holding me up as we peer at the chaos below.

Sofie lies over her husband’s body, protecting him, her green ball gown a silken heap of vibrant color among steel and death.

“Is Malachi gone?” The words sound hollow, unbelievable.

“I think it is safe to assume both he and the key caster are. They have not moved in some time.”

“Who killed them?”

“I did not see the killing strike.”

Because he was picking me up off the ground where I collapsed, a split second after the wall of fire broke.

Malachi is gone and yet the Saur’goth army fights on, the ruin Malachi has brought to this world is still very real.

The cage with the daaknar sits empty. The other two remain untouched, my parents curled into balls in the center as if to get as far away from any one side and a blade that might push through.

I want to protect them. I want to go to them. But I can’t do anything. I have nothing left inside me. I can barely stand.

“Where is Zander?” I’ve lost him in the shuffle.

“There.” Elisaf points out where he fights alongside Jarek and Abarrane. A dozen legionaries and Shadows surround them.

Drakon falls with an ax in his back.

Abarrane’s left arm hangs at her side, useless.

Caindra circles them, fighting with fire. A glint of gold shines in her claws. She’s carrying Atticus, and he’s directing her to attack where it’s most concentrated. He’s trying to help.

But it’s not enough.

“There are too many of them.” Our catapults fly and our dragons burn but no matter how many Saur’goths fall, more flood in to fill the void. The casters’ affinities will be depleted long before we run out of enemies to kill. “We can’t win.” The moment the words slip from my lips, my gut tells me it is the truth.

A pain-filled screech echoes, snapping my attention to where Caindra spirals down, two bolts in her wing. She skids across the battlefield, crushing dozens of fighters, but more swarm in. Her injured wing stays close to her side as she breathes fire.

I can’t pick out Atticus’s armor anywhere.

Valk and Xiaric dive to her aid, but they’ll be of little use. She can’t get back in the air and she’s a sitting duck on the ground.

The fight isn’t just outside anymore. Shouts to retreat to the keep sound below, inside Lyndel. They opened the gates and the enemy are pouring into the city. I see their helmets. They’re rushing the stairs.

“Lean here.” Elisaf props me up against the wall to free his hands. He draws a second sword. “Shadows!” His voice booms, but it doesn’t veil his panic. He senses the impending end as surely as I do.

The dozen remaining casters on the rampart rush to our sides, forming a buffer.

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