Page 174 of Kissed By the Gods
How much time do we have?
“Not enough.” It’s Nyrica. His voice has a harsh snap to it. It’s only then I realize I’ve been speaking aloud.
“We lead them into the Peaks,” Nyrica continues. He’s finished stitching Thalric up, and has his forehead pressed to Thalric’s. “Stay with me,” he murmurs, no teasing. A plea. “You’re not done yet. We’re not done yet.”
Nyrica wipes rain—or maybe tears—from Thalric’s face with bloodied, trembling hands. Thalric doesn’t wake, but his chest moves in a rise and fall.
“The draegoths won’t survive the cold. We leave the dead to the sea,” Nyrica looks toward Faelon clutching Caius to his chest, “and carry the wounded and the children on the able-bodied beasts. The adults walk and pray for mercy.”
“The people won’t survive the climb,” Aruveth says. “It’s too steep. No one’s equipped for winter. The cold will kill them as surely as the draegoths would.”
“We go through the adamas mines,” I say.
Aruveth’s head snaps toward me. His mouth tightens. I’m sure he’s thinking of the danger—the mines are a labyrinth of hollowed-out mountains. But after a beat, he nods.
“It could work,” he mutters. What he doesn’t say is that we have no other choice. He surges to his feet and strides away, shouting orders for his seconds, snapping the remains of the Altor into motion. I stay where I am, holding Leina closer, her small weight burning against my chest.
Nyrica surges to his feet. “I need to make a harness for Thalric,” he mutters, striding off.
Faelon presses a kiss to Caius’s now-cold forehead—a whisper of a touch, the kind meant for someone still breathing, for someone who might come back if you loved them hard enough. The kind meant for a father.
For the first time, the grief hits me full force. Guilt rips through the numbness, my chest tightening, my throat burning with it. But I clamp it shut like a tourniquet on a wound. We don’t have time.
Not yet.
I watch as Faelon wades into the crushing waves, as he lets Caius go, as the sea takes him with greedy hands. Faelon drops to his knees in the surf, his head bowed, the rain mixing withthe salt spray. He mumbles something I can’t hear. And then he stands. Without another word, he moves to join the work of saving the living.
The healer backs up from me, hands raised. “I’ve done all I can for her, Altor.”
I stand, settling her more firmly into my arms. Einarr chuffs, pawing the sand near Vaeloria’s prone body. The healer who was working on Vaeloria also backs away, nervous eyes on Einarr.
“The faravar doesn’t have any obvious fatal wounds. I think it’s resting,” he reports.
I nod my head, acknowledging him, but I speak to Einarr.
“Can you carry them?” He’s exhausted. He used his own energy to buttress mine during the battle, but I’ll drag them all across the desert myself if I have to.
Einarr snorts, tossing his head sharply, feathers ruffling. “Save your doubt for someone who’s earned it, Lastwall.”
I rest my forehead on his, calming both of us, before I lay Leina next to Vaeloria, tucking her up against the faravar’s chest. It will do them both good to be near each other. I don’t tell Einarr to stand guard. I don’t have to. He steps over their unconscious, vulnerable bodies, straddling them, then spreads his wings, making a shield no one would dare test.
I turn away, scanning the chaos for Aruveth. We’ll need leather. A lot of it. I have a harness to make, too. One that can carry a beast.
“The mines make the perfect cradle for Selencian boys on the cusp of manhood—buried beneath mountains so deep, not even the gods dare look. Guarded by only the most loyal soldiers, we cull the Altor from among them before they awaken to their true power. And until that day, they dig—unearthing the kingdom’s most priceless commodity next to the Altor: adamas.”
Letter from the King of Faraengard to his general in Year 33 of the Eternal Wars
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
LEINA
It’s dark.
But it’s not the darkness of the Veil. Not that soft, comforting part of me that I’ve come to embrace. This is one that presses down with unnatural weight. The air is stale here, too. But not like in the Veil, where it’s not needed.
