Page 44 of Song of Night

“I think that they must,” she finally says.

“Okay, then.” I touch both her and Asher on the shoulder. “We travel together until we cross the river into Daemonium territory. Though, I have a feeling no one is going to interfere with our journey. After that, we split up, and we gather back at the river in three hours time.”

“I’ll be hard pressed to reach the south side of the city and return that quickly,” Jaylen says.

I nod. “I know. Just as quickly as you can.”

She nods, and we begin to move. I realize after a few steps that I’m going to slow everyone down. In my horror at the state of Night, I’d forgotten that one of those spider monsters had stabbed through part of my calf. A groan of frustration rises from my throat.

“I can heal your leg,” Jaylen says, moving toward me.

“Don’t!” I snap, raising a hand to block her. “The wild magic is too unstable. I can feel it.”

“Me, too,” Asher says. “It’s deteriorated greatly since we left.”

Jaylen looks back and forth between the two of us. “You’re telling me you two have that much control over the wild magic?” Her eyebrows shoot up dubiously.

“I was its anchor for over two hundred years,” Asher says gravely, shaking his head. “And then we discovered your sister could link to it same as I could.”

“So, when we lost our magic in the explosion, Night lost that anchor,” I say softly.

Jaylen’s eyes widen. “Well, how do you get it back? Other than…well…” she drops off.

“We don’t know yet.” I sigh. “Part of me thought since we’ve regained partial use of it, that once we stepped foot back in Night, it would all come back.”

“I hoped that, too,” Asher says, looking at me.

I avoid his gaze. “Until we figure it out, don’t use any magic. The city had deadly flares of magic before, even with an anchor. I can’t imagine how bad things must be now.”

She nods and we continue our trek to the river, which thankfully is a short distance. We see not a single soul on the way, and at the river, none of the Syreni can be seen above the surface. Everyone is either engaged in battle or hiding.

After we cross over via a narrow bridge, much smaller than the one in the central part of the city, Asher points down a street slightly to the east. “There’s a stable down this way. A cavalry outpost for my spies.”

Within a few blocks we reach it, and when Asher strides through the front door, a huge fire wolf looming at his side, the Daemonium on duty falls to one knee. “My lord. We were told you were dead.”

Asher gestures for the man to get up. “Not yet. We need three horses.”

“I only have two at the moment, my lord,” the warrior says in an apologetic tone.

“Two will suffice. Which one is fastest?”

The warrior leads the way down the aisle of the stable and points out a pure white horse. Asher gestures to Jaylen. “You’ll need speed more than we do.”

The Daemonium, a fire type with two red horns protruding from his otherwise ordinary forehead, helps us put bridles on both of them. But after he puts a saddle on the white horse for Jaylen, Asher shakes his head. “We have only a short ride. We’ll forgo the saddle.”

We walk back out onto the street, which is filled with smoke even though the battle is more than two miles away. Jaylen mounts her horse and gives us a nod farewell, her eyes lingering on mine for a moment. “See you soon, sister,” she says, and she gallops off into the dusky night.

Without a word, Asher lifts me onto our horse, a huge bay with a white blaze down the front of its face. Then he turns to his warrior. “I need you to shift to scout duty. Relocate closer to the river. If the battle reaches there, inform me at once.”

The warrior nods. “Understood, my lord.”

“Are the others still at the palace?” Asher asks.

Another nod.

Asher swings up onto the horse behind me and urges it to move on. I can feel the heat of his body as his chest presses into mine, and his arms brush my sides where he holds the reins on either side of me. His breath tickles my ear from behind. I hate how it affects me, how my heartrate increases and my breathing hitches.

The horse prances beneath us, uneasy because of the three huge wolves circling us, the smoke filling the air, and the distant sound of battle; blasts and screams and resounding booms. At a command from Asher, the horse shoots forward into a gallop. When we reach the end of the street we turn right and head for the Palace of Night. The movement sends pain shooting through my leg, but it’s much less than if I were walking on it. Asher leans into me as the horse flies through the streets, one hand on the reins as the other wraps around my waist to hold me in place. The wolves are streaks of glowing coals and flames against the gray of the city.

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