Page 91 of Ash and Feather

Whose side are you on?

I still wasn’t sure what the right answer was.

I only knew I didn’t want a bloody battle foreitherside.

“Can we focus on simply keeping them apart?” I wondered. “We could use magic to drive back the invasion. The main entry into Mindoth is relatively narrow, already cut off by high walls…if we help fortify it even further, maybe we can get the elves to turn around? At least for now.”

“The tunnels underneath are still a vulnerability,” Mai reminded me. “One that will be difficult to keep in check by any kind of barrier, magic or otherwise. There are too many entry-points, and we don’t know how well the elves have mapped out the underground cave network. They may already be worming their way inside and planting weapons as we speak. Speaking of which, did you get anything useful out of Cillian?”

“He didn’t deny that there were weapons planted, and more to come. He wouldn’t tell me the number, though.” I took a deep breath. It seemed to echo in my chest, like there was too much space inside of me—like my heart had finished the shriveling it had started in Cillian’s tent. “Which makes me think that number is…high. He wouldn’t try to hide it from me, otherwise.”

She sighed, gaze lifting upward as if she was considering retreating back to the divine realm above.

“I believe we’re beyond the point of not intervening in some way,” Dravyn said, pointedly.

No one disagreed with this.

After a brief discussion, it was decided—Dravyn and I would try to at least reinforce the defenses of the main gates of Mindoth.

Meanwhile, Mai would find Valas, and the two of them would focus on sniffing out any weapons that had already been planted, as well as any smaller entry-points that had already been breached.

We wasted little time fussing over details beyond this.

Dravyn and I decided on a direct approach, strolling straight for the main entrance of the keep.

As we drew closer, I realized the outer wall was the first of many. More were stacked behind it, and each seemed to be a different height, length, and thickness. A maze of barriers with narrow corridors and gates in-between—so even if you managed to scale one wall, there was no telling what new challenge awaited you on the other side of it.

“Another wall—one of flame—could add to the frustration of trying to march into this place,” I thought aloud.

Dravyn agreed, and we made our way to the outermost rampart with plans to create parallel barriers of magic in front of it.

That outer wall was actually made up of two stretches of stone with an elaborate metal gate between them. Both were wide enough to have multiple guards patrolling along their tops, and tall enough that staring up from the bottom strained my neck and made me dizzy.

Dravyn took the one to the left, summiting it with a running start, a few inhumanly powerful vertical strides, and the brief help of wings—flashes of fire-tinged feathers that were there one moment, gone the next.

As he disappeared from view, I scaled the outermost wall to the right, not with wings, but with a combination of my claws and my divine speed and strength. As I hurdled over the parapet and landed in a crouch, two guards immediately caught sight of me.

I straightened slowly, lifting my hands in a gesture of peace.

The one closest to me drew his sword.

My magic responded reflexively before I could even think of stopping it. Faint symbols glowed to life on my skin. Smoke and embers lifted from my pores. The torches all along the rooftop went out, their flames whisking toward me and swirling around my body.

In the suddenly darker surroundings, the fire building around me seemed even brighter, and the second guard—whose weapon remained in its sheath at his side—let out a gasp, blinking in disbelief.

“A divine being,” he whispered, taking a step backward, his expression shifting to a mixture of awe and terror.

The sword-wielding man’s eyes darted from his companion back to me, widening as if he was taking in the sight of me for the first time. He dropped his weapon and held up his hands.

Then both men knelt before me.

That’s new.

It was also uncomfortable.

The one who’d dropped the sword fumbled with his sleeve, nervous fingers rolling it up to reveal a divine mark on his wrist—one that resembled a lightning bolt.

Wrong court, I thought wryly. But he was clearly hoping it would still gain him some kind of favor with me. Enough to keep me from smiting him, or whatever other horrible thing he imagined I was contemplating.

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