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She landed beside me.
Beads of sweat popped out on Kelyn’s forehead, but he didn’t hesitate. He climbed behind me onto Seren as he yelled at Lord Mathonwy. “Meet me there. I’ll try to limit the damage until you arrive.”
Lord Mathonwy nodded. “Yah!” He spurred his horse on, and his company followed.
TWENTY-FOUR
Thick pillars of smoke lifted from every rooftop. The glint of fire filled the corners of my vision, hiding the stars in the madness.
Women and children screamed. Armed men fought against each other. Axes against pitchforks. Unjust. Unfair.
My heart kinked, and a putrid feeling crept through me. What sort of beings could do this? Who could light up the night sky? Who could set blaze to a peaceful landscape?
Cruel men.
“Niawen, you should help the women and children. Take them as far away as possible,” Kelyn said.
I couldn’t still the overwhelming surge of emotions. Terror rolled through me. Pure terror. Desperation and pain. These feelings were coming from the victims.
I felt something entirely different from the attackers. Lust, greed, sadistic fury. I clutched my stomach. Never had so many vile and gut-wrenching emotions clawed through me. Not ever in Gorlassar. Not ever within its magnificent valley where no war touched.
A man in black leather, with his double-edged axe held high, charged Kelyn and me. Kelyn drew his sword, but before he raised it, I blasted the man to the ground. In the flare of my light, his blood-streaked face—it didn’t hold an ounce of remorse or regret for whoever’s blood it was.
A harrowed woman, dragging a toddler in her wake, lurched up and seized my arm. “Please, Lexa, my baby, she’s inside.”
As the woman pointed, I turned, to what used to be a house, to what was a wall of inferno.
I threw her into Kelyn’s arms.
“Niawen, there’s nothing you can do!” he yelled.
I was already running.
Don’t die. Don’t die, little one.
I pulled light around myself into a shield that guarded from the onslaught of debilitating heat. I had never shown any mortal this. Emrys were firewalkers. Heat wouldn’t touch us if we didn’t let it.
Ducking under the flaming doorway, I saw nothing but orange in my vision. A child. I was searching for a child. I moved to the rear of the house. The flames colored the walls and, what might have been, curtains. I scanned the room, grateful the flames hadn’t engulfed the entire structure. In a basket upon the tabletop, with fire raining around it from the ceiling, was the baby.
You’re alive. You’re alive.
Relief almost buckled me.
I scooped her up, tucking her against my chest, within my safety of light.
In a hideous crash, the front of the room collapsed behind me. I cowered with my precious bundle. With no other exit, I created one. I blew a hole in the wall. Flames filled the gap, but I leapt through into fresh air—as fresh as the air could be with a village disintegrating to ash.
I raced around the side of the house where Kelyn held the hysterical mother.
Thrusting the baby into her arms, I said, “She’s fine. She’s fine. Look.” I uncovered the infant. Streaked with soot, but by the Creator’s grace, breathing. I dove inside with my light. Her lungs were fine. Impossible. But they were.
I had just saved someone. Adrenaline pounded my blood. All my senses heightened. This was real. This was battle. This was saving people.
Some of them. More would die.
The mother blubbered thankful words.
“Niawen, get them out of here! And anyone else you find.” Kelyn ran toward the village’s center.
