Page 9 of War Of Fire and Fortune
Chapter Three
Emelyn
The western peaks of Woodhaven appeared below. Baetos's wings cut through the warm air with powerful, rhythmic beats as we soared closer to the mountain range. My heart thudded in my chest from anticipation.
I scanned the rugged landscape below, searching for any sign of life. Then, a faint trail curled into the sky. Smoke from a fire. I nudged Baetos gently, and he understood, descending toward the ground.
As we closed in on the source, my eyes found the irregular patterns of tents and the haphazard placement of barricades. This was it, the rebellion camp, nestled in an almost invisible valley between the mountains. I felt the wards the moment we hit them.
“Steady, Baetos,” I whispered, bracing myself against the feel of them.
His shadow swept over the camp like an ominous cloud. The moment Baetos's talons grazed the earth, chaos erupted. Figures emerged from the tents like disturbed ants, weapons drawn, their faces etched with panic.
"It’s Emelyn!" I called out. Recognition dawned on the weathered faces of the rebels as they lowered their weapons, murmurs of disbelief rising among them.
The Peacebringer has returned.
With the tension dissipating, I swung my leg over Baetos's scaled flank and leaped down onto the trampled grass of the encampment. My boots sank slightly into the dirt, still damp from an earlier rain, the scent of petrichor mingling with the smokey tendrils escaping the nearby fire pits.
No sooner had my feet found purchase, than a flurry of movement caught my eye. Shay, her face showing nothing but relief and despair as she moved for me. I braced myself just in time for the impact of her tackle.
"Emelyn," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion as we held each other close. The swell of her belly pressed against me, a poignant reminder of the life she carried—of hope. I was determined to make this world a better place if only for the sake of that babe. "Fuck, I'm so glad you're alive."
“Me too,” I said, and she let out a noise that sounded like a sigh and a chuckle. Stepping back from Shay's hold, I managed a smile.
A figure broke free from the rest, striding toward us with purpose that commanded attention. Atreya, her dark armor reflecting the dying day, scanned for the cause of this sudden intrusion.
The lines in her face softened, and relief shined in her eyes. I had returned to them, to the heart of the rebellion, and inthat moment, it almost felt like coming home. But someone was missing.
"Where is Ace?" I asked, and no words were needed. The truth was laid bare in the sorrowful tilt of her brow. "He was left behind, wasn't he?" My question was a formality, a futile attempt to reject what I already knew. Cold dread settled over me.
"Where the fuck isCrow?" I didn't use his real name. I didn't even know which name was his real one. Had he lied about that too? Did Atreya know of his dual allegiances? The web of secrets just kept getting bigger.
Atreya's silence was another answer of its own, but whether it stemmed from ignorance or discretion, I couldn't tell. Then, as if conjured by my very fucking thoughts, the air seemed to thicken, shadows clung to the trees, and Crow stepped into the clearing from his Hollow.
"You're dismissed," Atreya commanded, sweeping her gaze over the gathering of warriors and creatures alike. They hesitated for a heartbeat before they scattered back to their posts. Soon, the camp was bustling again with the low murmur of orders and the clanking of weaponry.
I didn’t wait for a second longer. I rushed Crow. His shadowy figure stood still. Even his tendrils of shade didn't dare move. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. His body jerked to the side, but he didn’t fight back.
"Where. Is. Ace?" My hands were fists at my sides, my heart hammering against my chest like a caged beast desperate to be released. Crow's expression faltered, the lines of his face tightening as if bracing against the storm he knew was coming.
"Emelyn . . . ," Crow started in a whisper.
"Tell me," I pleaded, my voice cracking. The strength I'd mustered on the ride over here, the resolve I'd clung to—it all threatened to crumble at the mere thought of Ace, of where he was, of what was happening to him.
"He was captured by Valla during the battle, but he's alive, I swear it. I'll keep him safe."
He was alive, but for how long?
My thoughts raced, images of Ace in chains, suffering at the hands of Valla flashed before me, each one like a corkscrew twisting deeper and deeper into my soul.
Baetos shifted uneasily behind us, his large wings rustling, sensing my distress. I drew a shaky breath, trying to ground myself. It wasn't working. Kade’s shadows tried to steady me, but I grabbed the front of his tunic to hold myself upright before the fabric bunched under my fists as I started to beat against his chest. I hadn’t even realized I’d moved into his embrace. My vision blurred, a cascade of tears distorting my sight.
"Bring him back. Bring him back now!" I cried.
Kade's grip was gentle as he steadied my thrashing arms, grabbing my wrists he halted the battering I was doing against his chest. His hands moved to cradle my face, tilting it upward so I had no choice but to meet his gaze.
"Emelyn," he repeated. "You know I can't do that, not yet."
