Page 110 of The Ashborn

Tristian held his attention, his own body low with waves of exhaustion. He’d given Danek a lot more than he should have. He studied Connak’s posture…how he paused short of kneeling beside them. How he glanced once at Kienna, and then away, jaw working. Connak’s mouth moved once, lips pressing into a line. A flicker in his gaze passed toward the hills behind them, where the bridge once stood. Tristian hadn’t noticed until now that it had fallen.

Connak stepped closer. “They need you on the front lines,” he said, softly but firmly.

Tristian narrowed his gaze, seeing the strain behind Connak’s usual reserve. It was more than a request. He couldn’t say what he needed to. Tristian feared the worst, but he tried to remain brave, fighting the thrashing ache trenching its way through his chest.

“Now is not the time,” he said, but his voice cracked halfway through. Tristian cleared his throat roughly, forcing it steady while hoping Connak wouldn’t notice the slip.

Connak’s brow twitched. His attention drifted to the sea as his nostrils flared. “You’ll want to go, High Commander.”

The break in his voice nearly tore Tristian in two.

He had to remind himself who he was. He cleared his throat and stood. “Will you stay?”

Connak nodded without hesitation. There was no need for words. Tristian picked his armor off the ground and took one last look at Kienna. Her eyes were open, her chest panting heavily. He followed her gaze to the sky. The clouds cleared. Stars overtook the night with milky globs.

Kienna survived this, but at what cost? How much more did Tristian have to lose before this could be over?

He started up the hill toward the desolate city. A quiver escaped at the corner of his mouth the farther he climbed until the bridge surfaced. No sight of the Shade. His brother.

Despite his attempts to hold it in, Tristian’s hands shook with each hurried step.

Maybe Connak was wrong.

Chapter 44

—Connak—

Connak was a shell of a man, not ready to accept what he had seen on the battlefield. His mind had to be here, ready to help Danek and to bring Kienna out of a painful fight to recovery. He knew if they didn’t do this right, her body risked going into shock. The overload of power alone should have killed her. If the shock didn’t take her, a fever would.

“Are you okay?” Connak leaned over to Danek.

“I’m running out of energy. I don’t know if I’ve done enough,” Danek grunted.

Danek didn’t have the strength to heal Kienna fully. Even the most versed healers of ancient tongues would struggle to heal magical burnout. Connak caressed Kienna’s face, pulling the clumps of hair out of the wounds barely closing on her cheeks. She glanced wearily at him. He could see her working hard to keep her mind wandering, but she didn’t speak. She took large breaths, blinking furiously. Danek remained strong-willed, his passion for Kienna driving him.

Connak realized he was going to give up everything to help her, but that he was also faltering. The battle of Kienna’s body against Danek’s would eventually kill them both if they didn’t find a solution. Connak placed his hand on Danek’s shoulder, lighting the magic in his bones with fire. He’d done it with Broan once, and the Eternal Mother deemed him worthy to bend his magic beyond his will. He had to hope the same for Danek.

The heat rushed from Connak’s body into Danek’s. He glanced at Moira, motioning for her to do the same. Moira’s fingers crossed onto his. Her energy pulsed through Connak and into Danek’s, something that reminded him of childhood. Danek’s body eased further with the flow of her magic. Ruva placed her head on Danek’s lap, a kind of energy that was fierce and untethered. The wolf panted but held strong.

Kienna’s eyes widened, her chest thumping heavily. Connak heard it through his own mind. The flow of magic into anyone’s body was an uncomfortable experience as it weaved through the natural order of things. With the number of injuries Kienna sustained, the level of discomfort must have been heightened. Regardless, she remained lock-jawed and silent, though tears flowed from her eyes now and then while Danek worked.

The people on the beach surrounded them, pouring their hands into the mix. A gleam flickered in Connak’s eyes. Hope brushed through his hand, a gentle whisper of waves erupting into an unyielding storm.

“I’m done,” Danek whispered, visibly shaken. His breath exhaled in tremors, but the moon shone on him with all its might. The kiss of light illuminated his head, a blue streak flowing from his temple, winding around through his faded black hair.

The Mother’s kiss of magic—like Broan. Well deserved.

Yet Connak barely looked at it. The significance was there, but the weight in his chest dulled everything. In a perfect world, he would have praised Danek and celebrated in the Lysiria. Danek gaining approval from the Eternal Mother was a sign of his ascension, an affirmation that the goddess found his place in the world. Connak’s chest begged him to overflow with pride.

Only heaviness remained in his heart.

“Is everything alright in the city?” Moira whispered while Danek held Kienna.

Connak sighed.

“Shift, you bastard!” Connak screamed it repeatedly. Tislin never shifted. He bellowed into the night, bringing those closest to him to their knees as Connak’s magic erupted.

He swore he would protect Tislin. Connak could never protect Tislin from himself, though, and that bit them in the ass every single time. He stared at the Goldmere, hoping he’d see his Shadowmaster fly out. He escaped death many times before. He could do it again. A Shade didn’t have to be the deadliest thing one could fall to.