“Farron!” Billy shouts. “What’s happening? It’s the Battle of Coppershire all over again! Perth Quellos…when he raised the dead…this is the same thing!”
“No, no, I’m not like him!” I shout, but my voice is lost in the growing din. How did this happen? Is it because I didn’t take enough care? Because I didn’t lovingly retie their threads as I did Dayton’s? There was no time, no time…
The risen turn, their bodies moving in staggered, jerky rhythm, arms reaching. Not for the enemy. Forus.
The Green Flame surges in my chest, but something yanks at it, pulling it away from me.
A laugh slithers through the air. Caspian’s voice, silky and triumphant. “Oh, Farron. What a lovely gift. You really are too kind to offer your entire army as my thralls!”
I spin, but I can’t find him. A shadow casts over me. I look up.
There he is, above us, suspended in a cradle of thorns. Vines coil around his arms and legs, holding him aloft.
I feel it then—my connection to the soldiers unraveling, slipping through my fingers.
He’s taking them. Just like he took Dayton and me at Frostfang.
I scream and clutch at the flames burning in my soldiers’ hearts, trying to reel them back to me, but they won’t answer. The flame still burns, but the will driving it is no longer mine.
Baron!I cry in my mind.Help me!
There’s only a painful, echoing silence.
Dom swings his sword wildly at the encroaching horde of our own risen army. “They’re everywhere. We’re surrounded!”
Goblins pour in from behind the undead ranks, cackling and snarling, closing the circle. My brothers press against me back-to-back, blades up, panting.
Above us, Caspian lifts one elegant arm. A sword grows in his hand, long and gleaming, made of vines twisted around a thorned core. It hums with magic, bleeding shadow from its edge.
He levels it at me.
“Now,” he says, voice sharp with joy, “I will make you suffer.”
I don’t know what else to do, so I close my eyes. The last thing I see is Caspian arcing his sword down toward my neck.
A torrent of icy wind erupts at our side, followed by a shower of dagger-sharp icicles. Goblins and risen soldiers alike scream as they’re pummeled to the ground. Caspian is flung back amid the storm, landing in a heap at the base of his briar tower.
A massive shape leaps over me and the twins and lands in a spray of ice and ash before us.
Two ice knives form in Keldarion’s hand as he turns to face me, his long, white hair blowing, his eyes blazing with blue fire. “Farron,” he snarls, “you are a fucking idiot.”
26
Keldarion
Ican’t remember the last time I felt so fucking angry.
What was Farron thinking? No forewarning to any of the other realms. No strategic planning. No backup. Just a full-fledged assault on the Briar.
I might expect this recklessness from Dayton or even Ezryn if the mood strikes him wrong. But from Farron?
He was always the one to keep us in check. Now, he’s run headfirst into a mess there’s no way to clean up.
If it was just his own life, that would be different. But he’s brought legions of soldiers. Brought hisbrothers.
If we survive this, I am going tokillhim.
With a roar, I cast my arms out, creating a barrier of jagged icicles to encircle myself, Farron, and the twins. It won’t stop the Below’s army, but it will slow them down.
