Page 254 of The Cradle of Ice
Nyx broke away from Graylin and chased after Daal. Graylin bolted after her, but she shouted over her shoulder, reminding him that the Hálendiians were the least of their problems, “Guard Shiya! Help Rhaif!”
Graylin skidded and turned, realizing in his haste he had forgotten about the pair. He turned and saw Rhaif crouched near Shiya’s chrysalis, refusing to forsake the bronze woman. Graylin knew Nyx was right.
Nothing mattered if they lost Shiya. She remained the key to everything.
Still, he called in desperation to Nyx, “What are you—?”
She shouted without turning, “Going for help!”
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NYX FLED THROUGH the pall of smoke cast by the wreckage of a flaming sailraft. Bodies lay broken and burning all around it. She shied away and chased after the darker shadow of Daal.
She didn’t know how he was still on his feet after being so drained.
Ahead, Daal reached their two mounts first. They hissed and reared from him, blinded by panic, deafened by the blasts. Daal bowed low, arms raised, palms toward them. She heard him sing to them, like she had heard him do with Neffa. While there was a trickle of bridle-song there—all he had left—he didn’t need more. His compassion and concern welled out of him brighter than any song.
That was his truest gift.
Nyfka mewled and trilled her fear toward him, responding first. Metyl was slower, but Nyx shouldered behind Daal, adding her harmony, a blend of song and residual fire.
The two beasts calmed enough to accept their greeting, to allow fingers to be run along their necks to saddles. Nyx kept hold of the edge of her song, letting them know what they needed, to be brave one more time.
Daal nodded to her as he hooked a toe into a stirrup pocket, innately sensing what needed to be done. The two were still connected without any magic. He would rally the raash’ke, turning panic into purpose, both to defend and attack.
Nyx climbed atop Metyl but stayed low in the saddle. With both hands, she pushed fingers into the heat of her mount. She let her song shine brighter, burning through the last of Daal’s fire. She needed to be this close to one of the raash’ke to make the connection.
They needed help.
Daal could not do it alone.
She closed her eyes and cast out for one last ally, one that could truly calm and direct the raash’ke, to focus the few here into a strong army. Shiya needed to be protected—not just on the ground, but in the air. While Daal waged his war across the dome, Nyx would guard over Shiya.
To do that, she needed another’s strength and cast out a plea to the horde-mind of the raash’ke.
Help us.
To reach the distant horde-mind, she had expected it would take great effort. But as soon as she extended herself, it was there, waiting and expectant.
Nyx gasped at its enormity, its ancientness bared so nakedly to her. It was no longer a cold, eternal presence. It was a black wall of wrath, a towering wave of fury and vengeance.
In that moment, Nyx saw that it needed her, too. The distances were too great for the horde-mind alone. It had needed Nyx to reach out, to bridge the gap, so it could channel through her to reach the dome.
Its intent filled Nyx, wordless but clear in her head.
I see him.
That dark wave broke over and through her, flattening her to the saddle. Without Nyx’s bidding, her mount shoved off the copper floor. Its huge wings buffeted smoke and fanned flames higher.
Gasping, Nyx clutched fistfuls of Metyl’s fur to keep to her saddle. She sang to her mount, but he was gone, washed into the horde-mind, absorbed there. What she rode now was not a single raash’ke—but all of them.
To the side, Daal burst out of the smoke atop Nyfka. Unaware of what was happening, he turned and headed off into the fray.
The horde-mind drew her the other direction, toward the curve of the wall, following the tracery of green fire to its source. From the back of Metyl, she saw the Root imbedded in the crystalline matrix, still a torch of emerald flames, as impregnable as ever.
On her other side, she spotted Graylin and the others below, guarding before Shiya. One or two sailrafts must have landed safely and unloaded forces. Dark shadows, flashing with brighter sparks of armor, closed upon them through the smoke, all aiming toward the chrysalis, as if somehow sensing Shiya’s presence and being drawn there like iron to lodestone.
Behind her, raash’ke screamed with renewed determination as Daal rallied them, intent to let no other invaders breach his defense.
