Page 449 of Of Empires and Dust

“Half of what?”

“Everything.” Freis stared into Ella’s eyes. “There may come a day soon where that sacrifice will be necessary, but we must bide our time. I can do more from here at this moment. I care for this world and I will not let him burn it.”

A searing pain raked across Ella’s back, and she lurched forwards, howling.

The light in Elyara’s eyes vanished, and Freis’s voice returned. “Ella!”

Freis wrapped her arms around Ella, her fingers coming away coated in glistening white blood.

Ella felt something tug at her, Tamzin’s voice booming in her ears. “ELLA! Come back to us!”

The world around Ella began to collapse, and she reached out her hand, grasping for Freis.

“No!” Freis shouted. She grabbed hold of Ella, hands clasping Ella’s shoulders. “I am here. I will never leave you. Your brother?”

“They’re alive,” Ella said, nodding frantically, Tamzin’s voice clawing at the back of her mind.

“They?” Freis’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widening, voice cracking. “Haem? He’s alive? How?”

“He’s alive, Mam. He came back to us.”

“My boy…” Freis’s eyes glistened, white light shimmering in her tears.

“Ella!” Tamzin’s voice thundered again, and Ella’s fingers slipped through Freis’s.

“Mam, no!” Ella felt herself pulling away.

“I’m here, Ella. I won’t leave you.”

Everything collapsed in on itself in a plume of swirling smoke, and Ella once more stood in Níthianelle’s mirror of Tahír un Ilyienë.

Screams and shouts and howls sounded all around her, Angan and druids battling.

A host of Aldithmar swarmed down the terraces, black smoke swirling around them. They tore through the Bjorna and Vethnir Angan, dark claws rending.

“Ella, can you fight?” Tamzin held Ella’s face, staring into her eyes, white blood smeared across her.

Ella nodded, her mind swirling with a blend of loss, confusion, anger, and sorrow. The wolf within her snapped and snarled, furious to be torn from Freis.

Her eyes fell on something she could not understand. Farda knelt in front of her, his sword buried in the gut of an enormous bear, his shirt and trousers in tatters, white blood streaming from a hundred cuts. He ripped his blade free, then stood andcut down a woman who charged at him with gleaming green eyes, her shoulders as dense and muscled as Haem’s.

Bodies lay all around him, the ground slick with white blood. Farda turned to her, grimacing and limping on one leg. “Are you hurt?”

Ella shook her head. She could feel the pain in her back where something had raked its claws across her, but she would live. Farda looked like he wouldn’t.

“We need to leave this place,” Tamzin said, looking about her. “The Bjorna and Vethnir have too many Angan, and they are too strong here.”

A roar like booming thunder rang out, and Ella spun to see Fenryr standing like a mountain, his claws buried in an enormous hawk, the branches of the Ilyienë tree bowing around him. The god roared again, his eyes gleaming with golden light, and the hawk’s body split, tearing from neck to feet, white blood streaming in rivers.

Shrieks rang all about, and Vethnir Angan dropped from the sky, smashing into the ground, lifeless.

Fenryr held the two pieces of Vethnir in the air and stared at a god that Ella knew could only be Bjorna. “You wanted me, brother. Here I am!”

He dropped the pieces of the dead god and lunged at Bjorna.

Ella stared in awe as the gods went to war. She pulled her gaze away, looking from Tamzin to Farda. “How do we get him out of here?”

“Leave me.” Farda dropped to one knee, his sword skittering against the ground in a plume of white mist.

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