Page 230 of Season Warriors & Wolves

White Bishop takes F7

Thora

Nilsa’s body lay torn beside me. She had not survived long against Vas who had now disappeared gods knew where, limping, burned and injured. Finally struggling to heal. Her fire had turned the once snowy ground into a miry slush. Blood and melted skin had soaked through it and even given it an argil tint. Whatever bile tried to raise up my throat from the smell and the feel of it beneath my soles went down really quickly when the khamir beasts overwhelmed us again. Pouring—endlessly, relentlessly, killing with a single graze.

From the distance, I saw Jayre crash on land, beasts already crawling and feasting on his body. I couldn’t even allow myself to close my eyes for a moment to mourn either of them.

A hoard of beasts suddenly stopped as if on command and all turned to face me, growling and slowly prowling in my direction before launching into the air to attack.

I ran toward them with all I had and so did my ice creatures, forcing my feet to move quicker than they had ever moved, but before I could slice my dagger through their limbs, they all went still. Eyes and mouths aghast, collapsing to the ground.

Gooseflesh rose on my skin when the rest of them crumpled to the ground one after the other, leaving the battlefield bare from beasts. The slithery, scaly skin they wore peeled back to reveal human bodies. Some dead. Others almost there.

Nia.

Nia had done it.

“Oh gods.” My hands shook, my breath shook, too.

Nia had done it!

“Your turn,” Visha’s voice boomed in my head, and a portal opened a foot away from me.

My turn.

It was my turn.

Sucking in a steady breath, I clutched my weapon tighter and ran inside of it.

She had portalled me inside Tenebrose castle, right in the middle of the quiet winter gardens. Everything was the same as I’d remembered it. All that terrified me, nightmares and reality stood still and solid, close enough for me to touch.

Shaking the memory away, I ran towards where I felt a hum of familiar magic—towards the same sensation Snow had described feeling. Like a call, it summoned me toward it. Like calls to like.

Someone appeared before me, but they drew their weapon back soon after. The woman blinked stunned. “You’ve made it.”

“Skadi?” I asked, and then I had no answer for what possessed me to launch forward and hug her.

She stood frozen. “P-princess?”

“It is nice to see you.”

“Uh, nice to see you as well. Are you here for—”

“My father.”

Pulling back, she pointed toward the red rose gardens. “All the Crafters protecting him are dead, but I do not know where he keeps his Magi Healers that are feeding him life. They are linked to him.”

“Then I will have to kill him until all his lives are run through.”

She nodded. “Elias and I will keep every soldier away. He is all yours.”

“Thank you,” I offered, slipping between walls that hid layers and tunnels, hoping that the ember salt was enough to mask my magic from the guards. Twists and turns later, I felt the same hum sing to me, as if luring me in its direction.

Then I saw him. Sat in a steel dais in the middle of the red rose gardens that overlooked the war beyond the ruined walls of Tenebrose. His armour glistened despite the murk and smoke covering day, it glistened with something else, something unnatural.

Alone.

At last.