Page 94 of Ash and Feather

Aside from these things, however, the scene was less horrific than I’d anticipated. A sense of impending catastrophe hovered, yet something seemed to be holding it back—like a rabid, snarling dog held taut on a chain.

“I expected much worse,” I admitted to Dravyn, despite the prickling unease shooting down my spine. “More fighting, more elven infiltration. But it seems relatively under control here, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t answer right away, too busy watching the sea. Another unnaturally high wave was building, rocking the ships perilously about. The soldiers on the docks scrambled backward, abandoning their efforts to finish unloading things.

“These explosions…” Dravyn finally replied, “…they feel more like distractions than anything.”

Unease dug its claws more deeply into my heart.

Looking around, I realized how the scene felt unnervingly similar to the attack we’d faced in the middle-heavens weeks ago. We’d fought off group after group of invaders, only to realize—almost too late—that their true, larger target had been the Tower of Ascension.

So what were they truly attempting to destroy tonight?

“I assumed they were here to claim lives and deal a moral blow to the rising recruits,” Dravyn said, voicing my own thoughts. “They have the numbers to stage a full-scale attack…why aren’t they doing so? Too many of them are hanging back in the shadows for some reason. I don’t like it.”

“What else would be their end goal in this place, if not a massacre?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. There isn’t anything of particular value here, aside from those budding army regiments. There are much larger ports of commerce elsewhere, and more important infrastructure they could target if they truly wanted to make a declaration of war. Why go to the trouble of setting off a bunch of small bombs that are an inconvenience, at worst?”

“Maybe there’s a larger one somewhere?”

“Maybe. But they’ve drawn attention to the weapons now, so they would be jeopardizing their own plans by setting off warning explosions. It just doesn’t seem smart. We’re missing something.”

We moved discreetly through the shadows, watching the growing unrest, trying to make sense of it.

Skirmishes continued to break out. Small explosions rumbled on, the sound echoing in the humid, heavy air like far-off thunder. It added to the other noise that was slowly building to a deafening level all around us—clamoring voices, pounding boots, clanging weapons.

Approaching a fork in the road, we hesitated, debating where to search next.

“We should split up and keep looking for whatever their true target is,” I suggested.

Worry rippled through the connection we shared.

I had already latched on to this plan, though; I didn’t want leave his side, but each of my heartbeats felt like it might be the last before everything exploded into pandemonium. Time was not on our side, and we could cover more ground apart than together.

“I can find my way back to you through the chaos easily enough,” I assured him. “I always do.”

Though the feeling of worry didn’t ease, he agreed with a reluctant nod. “Be careful.”

“When am I not?”

He arched a brow. “You spent yesterday jumping repeatedly from the tallest tower on our palace grounds, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I’m still in one piece,” I pointed out.

He returned the smile I gave him, though the amusement didn’t reach his eyes; his gaze was elsewhere, distracted as he scanned our surroundings for immediate threats.

“I promise I’ll refrain from jumping off buildings,” I said, “and I’ll see you soon.”

He responded with magic rather than words, sending a wave of warmth flooding through me with little more than a deliberate look. I wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done—only that my own magic responded to it, and the fire that surged through my veins made me feel briefly invincible.

As we’d done when placing our walls of flames earlier, he went left while I went right. I moved quickly, my cloak drawn even tighter around my head than before.

Invincible or not, I was in a hurry.

I avoided making eye contact or lingering too long in any spot. I noted the numbers of both elves and humans, mapping out where and how they were gathering, trying to discern some sort of pattern. Something that would give me a clue about what points they were converging toward.

After several minutes of observing and searching, my attention snagged on a tall fire roaring in the distance. I drew to a stop as I stared at it, my sensitive nose picking up a nauseating smell. One I’d become far too familiar with over the past months: burning flesh.

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