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“NO!” Garanthian roars through the thudding rain.
The wolf tries to rise back up and keep fighting, but the swamp dawpers attack ruthlessly, ganging up on its weak points, drawing a heavy cry from Ruth as she watches helplessly.
Fuck. We’re outnumbered!
“Form lines!” Garanthian’s son commands the pack of wolves, pointing for them to help usher us toward the gate. And they do, well trained and fierce as they fight the enemy while backing us toward the two men still holding strong.
“Make a run for it!” Garanthian shouts to us with the dominating tone of a true leader.
I jerk my head to Niles first. And he obeys without question, sprinting through the trembling gate as the men struggle to keep it up. I nod to Marilynn next, then to Warrose as they keep the wall strong, fending off arrows with Garanthian’s men swiping at them midair before they can hit a target.
“Go, son!” Garanthian hollers over his shoulder to me.
I back away with a few more steps, slipping under the gate.
They’ve formed a strong enough wall that they are good to follow me now. I form my hands around my mouth to increase the volume of my voice.
“We’re good, let’s go!”
Just as Garanthian looks back at me to exit, seven flaming arrows land on their newest targets. The two men holding the gate. It comes crashing down on their bodies, crushing their bones and impaling their backs.
“FUCK!” Warrose screams in agony.
“Get them out!” Ruth begs in a hysterical cry.
My jaw locks as I try to lift the gate. “Help me!” I beg the Stormsages, signaling for them to lift. But they don’t move. Even one of the wolves looks back at me with a look of honor that could almost pass as a human expression.
Garanthian bows his head to me.
“I can get you out!” I bellow through the storm. As Warrose comes to help me attempt to lift the impenetrable iron, Garanthian holds up his stiff hand.
“Garanthian!” I grunt, using every ounce of strength to lift this fucking gate.
“Dessin.” Marilynn places a hand on my shoulder.
“NO!” Are tears seeping from the corners of my eyes? My heart is collapsing on itself as blood rushes to my face and muscles.
“Go, son,” Garanthian says calmly, bowing his head once more.
And searing into my brain for the rest of my days, the alpha of the pack bows his head to me, too. In a chaotic outrage of soaring arrows, chomping teeth, and disembowelment—they join the rest of their pack to keep fighting a battle they will never win.
“Garanthian!” I scream through the bars, pressing my face against them with a helplessness I’m not used to feeling.
Warrose and Marilynn have to pry me off the gate as I struggle to hang on.
“We have to run!” Warrose tries to bark some sense into me.
And he’s right. I know he’s right. I have to think about keeping them safe, no matter the costs to those who came to save us. Those who have only ever shown me kindness.
We charge through the mud and the splashing puddles, hearing the fighting of wolves and beasts and clashing swords lower in volume, until it finally goes silent.
64. With The Strength Of A Thousand
Dessin
“We shouldn’t have left them behind.” My hands are shaking with guilt and shame. Their faces were so serene, at peace with the decision they’ve made.
“Dessin, we have to keep running. They’re following us!” Warrose slaps my back in encouragement, pleading with his glistening, sorrowful eyes to get me moving again.
