Page 100 of The Ashborn

Wind catapulted him into the air. He rode the waves of the breeze into the barrier. Danek needed to find Baila before her shadow weapon could do any damage.

—Tristian—

The traps on the bridge never went off, but they heard the soldiers. Tristian tightened his fingers against his palms. Near the hills, bombs exploded. It wasn’t enough. Their first line of defense failed. Now they relied on the outer ridge of the city in hopes that they could dwindle the army enough to gain the upper hand.

Flickers of light waved around them. The barrier formed by the Ironbinders rumbled like lightning in the sky, threatening to break at any moment. Commander Brennic stood rigid beside Tristian, his ink-black hair spilling over his shoulders. Harsh lines cut across his face, the curve of his Elvish ears barely visible through the dark strands. His tunic, black as midnight, gleamed with dragon scale leather. He tightened his grip on his Elvish blade, its glowing runes pulsing like fire under his fingers. While Brennic loved the flair of a magical blade, Tristian preferred his own strength to that of a forged weapon. The Elvish weapons only made them lazy and drew out too much of the power that he needed to keep hidden. His hand wrapped around the hilt of his own sword.

A wave of air tore through the city. The barrier crumbled, and arrows shot across the sky. Between Connak and Jayel’ric, their voices carried with the wind. The command: “Rain it down!”

Grunts of men amplified through the crystals of Serenya’s army. The archers fired again, followed by the Hollow Blades leaping from the roofs and into the city streets. Animalistic gurgles echoed through the crystals.

River Storm was officially in the city.

Soldiers moved about, a harsh clatter of steel joints grinding and plates ringing with every step. They’d hit the Emberreign battalion next.

Tristian nodded to Brennic. “Commander.”

“May the Eternal Mother know our names by nightfall,” Brennic said.

Fire erupted ahead of them. They could see the soldiers now, charging full force. The men of the enemy were slowed substantially, but the Umbrin pushed by with ease, slicing through their forces without a second glance.

Crackling energy pulsed beneath the surface of Tristian’s skin enough for strength, but nothing more. The heat bled into his fingers as he pulled his blade. The Vorthakai leapt off walls in the alleyway, crawling unnaturally forward. They’d die tonight by his blade. He’d make sure of it.

Brennic lifted his sword in the air. “Blades high!”

The Thornclad soldiers behind them lifted their own swords.

“Forward!” Tristian yelled.

The army charged through the streets, and their blades met the dead.

Chapter 39

—Kienna—

Pacing didn’t help the writhing anger fuming in Kienna’s blood. She shook, breath ragged, to contain whatever heat accumulated. The last thing she wanted was to explode with fire. Even with the charm secured on her wrist, the magic would not relent. Her fist went into the wall, dust spewing around her. She coughed and then grunted.

Moira placed her hand on Kienna’s shoulder. “You’re scaring the children.”

“This is shit, Moira,” Kienna snapped. “People can’t be up there dying while I’m down here. I have to get up there.”

Moira touched Kienna’s other shoulder, firmly holding her. “Maybe they asked you down here for a reason. You should stay.”

Kienna laughed, shaking her head. The women closest to them moved further away. Guilt tugged at Kienna. Moira was right, as always. Her nerves continued to bounce, intermixing with frustration. She tried to call out to Ruva for help. Then her gut twisted, and her vision blurred. She’d gotten so concerned with bringing the woman and her children to the barracks that she forgot about Ruva and… Kienna had to sit.

“Oh fuck, Moira! We never got Ash. I told Ruva to get him, and now I can’t hear her over whatever is going on up there.”

Panic seized Kienna’s heart. Her breath eluded her, and tears filled her vision as she buried her head into her knees to keep from scaring the others even further. Moira squatted next to her, arm over her shoulder. She let out a gentle shushing, running her fingers through Kienna’s hair. Kienna fell into it, the soothing tingle in her scalp sending a message to her brain that she was more than okay. Her heart settled. She was safe. Moira shushed again.

Kienna sighed, and then her eyes shot open. She didn’t have time for this. She bolted upright and clawed at the boxes and barricades blocking the tunnels. “I’m getting out of here.”

“Kienna, dear,” Elowen said, joining them. “I can give you something to calm down.”

“No,” Kienna said, the anger rising again. “I don’t belong here. I should be fighting. I should⁠—”

Elowen pulled Kienna and forced her into a tight hug, one so motherly that Kienna stopped flailing. She fell into the embrace, and Moira covered her from behind.

“Listen, child. You know you need to be down here.”