“Fall back!” The shout came from the blond man near the inn. The remaining rebels didn’t need to be told twice. At the man’s command, they turned on the spot and ran, jumping over the bodies of their fallen Mages and villagers alike, a few tripping and falling in their haste.
“General?” Lex asked.
I hummed and called on my magic once more, the feeling still heady and euphoric, though with less urgency this time, and sent trails of it at the backs of the retreating rebels.
Subconsciously, I avoided the blond man and the few rebels who were in his vicinity. My magic touched the backs of nearly a dozen rebels, felling them as they fled, their screams dying abruptly in their throats.
The blond Mage pulled his horse to a quick stop and spun to face me, a look of respect and fear written in his gaze.
He gave me a jerked nod before urging the remaining horses into a gallop.
I watched his retreating back until I could no longer see it, knowing somehow that tonight wouldn’t be my last encounter with the strange blond Mage.
As the rebels retreated, the residual fire from their Elemental Mages wound down and eventually petered out completely, bathing the street once more in darkness just as the first rays of sunlight crested the horizon.
The sudden light from the sunrise shone on the street, bathing the carnage from the last few weeks in a radiant glow. But no amount of golden rays could mask the utter destruction and stench of death that blanketed the town.
I let out my breath as I looked around and ran a hand through my hair.
We have a long few days ahead of us,I thought, just as the door to the inn banged open and the mysterious woman, Faylinn, stepped through the door.
“About time you showed up.”
Chapter 39
Faylinn
Iwas absolutely livid, my body quaking from anger and pent-up frustration, and I was certain that my emotions were worn on my face, if the flinch from the man with emeralds for eyes and hair black as night was anything to go by.
But I no longer cared about anyone else’s opinion of me.
The village I called home for as long as I had memories was decimated.
The people I knew, healed, and protected were scattered and hurting, their families torn apart, their livelihoods taken.
The man I grew to love was dead or dying in a foreign city.
The woman I trusted, my mentor, deceived me and fled.
The only man to take me in as a child, the one who cared for me, and showed me the love of a parent, was dead.
My heart stuttered at that thought.
Don’t think about . . . him.
I pushed down the pain and the sadness, allowing only anger to fill me. Anger I could operate on. I’d find time to mourn my old life and the people in it later.
The sun was just cresting the horizon and it bathed the street in a soft golden glow. It would’ve been beautiful, if not for the wreckage of our town and the dozens of dead bodies in various states of decay it illuminated.
The air was hot and muggy, promising another scorching late spring day, and I knew that wasn’t going to bode well for the cleanup that would have to start today.
“What?” The question came from the man who had locked eyes with me during the battle earlier. His tone wasn’t accusatory, just curious, but I turned my furious gaze toward him anyway.
“I said, it’s about time you showed up. Are you deaf?” I crossed my arms in front of my body, partially to protect my broken heart and partially because I needed something to do with my hands that wouldn’t betray their shaking.
With the mayor and Holt dead, our little village was leaderless. I had tried to convince Sharol to take the mantle, but she simply shook her head and said it “had to be me” before disappearing. I looked everywhere for her, but something in my blood—in the runes etched on my skin—told me she was gone. Left me without so much as a goodbye. Left me alone to grieve and, apparently, lead these people. My anger with her was a palpable thing.
The Mages behind the man stiffened, a few calling magic to their palms, though it was weak and wispy. They were operating on reserves, if they had any magic left at all.
