Page 55

‘He can barely stand!’ Nymlaris yelled his frustration, and Areanel glanced over her shoulder to see him cradling their brother close, no longer caring about the state of his clothing.

Again, that shouldn’t be possible! Red. So much red coated him, sticking to him like a second layer of skin. He should have begun healing by now, but blood still poured and the wound hadn’t stitched itself together.

Panic bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Why wasn’t Sevain healing? This was all wrong.

‘Sev’s lost too much blood, Rea,’ Percival grunted at her side. He pulled another villager down to get away from the slew of arrows under the cover of the wagon.

Gritting her teeth, Areanel scanned their attackers, then the villagers at her back. Sweat beaded down her forehead; she had used too much of her power these last few days. How could she be so stupid?

‘I can’t hold this much longer,’ she said to Percival. The fractured shield punctuated her statement as another arrow sailed past, landing in the side of the wagon with a thud. Another scream from a villager shook her out of her thoughts, and as she stared at the arrow, a plan began to take shape in her mind.

‘Nym!’ she called his attention. When frantic eyes met hers, she asked, ‘How many can you jump?’

She knew how tired he already was, but with panic surging, Nymlaris seemed to forget all about his exhaustion. Areanel knew that, if anything, she could count on the bond Nymlaris and Sevain shared—they were closer to each other than any of the others, and that would spur him into action if nothing else!

‘I can take him.’ Nymlaris’s tone was determined, and his grip tightened a little on Sevain before it wavered. ‘But the others…’ A strand of his usually perfectly combed hair fell into his eyes, and he shook his head. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘Take as many as you can,’ Areanel ordered.

‘I won’t be able to come back for you.’

Staring straight into Nymlaris’s anxious gaze, Areanel commanded, ‘Get Sev out of here, Nym! That is your priority. Percy—’ Her attention swung to her twin, hands still held out, using what little energy she had left to reinforce the magic in her shield. ‘Help him. Once he is gone, I need you to get whoever remains into one wagon and run like hell.’

‘What about you?’ Percival asked, even as he rushed behind her, working to get as many villagers as possible to Nymlaris’s side.

‘Elmrynn and I will handle this.’ Her head jerked to the side, motioning to their attackers, where Elmrynn already shouted orders to the remaining soldiers. ‘I’ll draw their fire away from you. That should buy you enough time to run.’

‘But—’

‘That’s an order, Percival!’ Areanel poured the command into her voice until Percival ceded.

Concentrating on pulling her power, Areanel secured as much of the shield as she could, even though her fingers shook with the strain. The others worked to get Sevain and the villagers out.

Her gaze clashed with Elmrynn’s as he came to stand by her side. Weapon in hand, Areanel heard the satisfying crack as he rolled his neck. If there was one thing Elmrynn excelled at, it was battle. Even she wouldn’t want to be on the other side of his blade if she could help it.

The onslaught of arrows did not stop, and continued to pelt Areanel’s power. Cracks spiderwebbed her shield as each arrow hit its mark, and the sweat rolling down her forehead now beaded across her brow, racing down her neck.

It shouldn’t have been this difficult to hold up a shield! What was happening?

Areanel grunted as another arrow sailed through the forest, landing directly before her. Its black tip stared her in the face, marking her for death as it lodged itself in her shield.

How unusual. She had never seen arrowheads of this type of material before; the obsidian colour was almost as dark as shadow. Then Areanel felt it… a low thrum that seemed to draw in her power. Her magic coiled away, hiding from the arrowhead’s vacuum.

Directed between her eyes, Areanel snarled at the pointed tip that stopped inches from her face.

But still, her shield held. Areanel would hold them at bay. She had to! But her arms began to spasm with the effort as the arrows kept thudding against her shield at high velocity.

Then, they dwindled. Fewer and fewer hit the shield with every passing moment.

Nymlaris and Percival needed to leave immediately if they were to successfully get the villagers out of danger.

Areanel felt the way her shield fractured as the black-tipped arrows flew into them.

‘GO!’ Areanel yelled over her shoulder.

Nymlaris didn’t need to be told twice. His face pinched in pain, grunts audibly loud. In a whirl, the world around him twisted and warped. With a familiar pop, Areanel watched as Nymlaris disappeared with Sevain and a small group of villagers.

Her eyes turned to Percival. There was a moment of hesitation before his hands balled into fists, and he let out a frustrated huff. Turning his back to her, Percival slammed his fist into the back of the wagon and mounted Sevain’s tawny gelding. Ilymathar and Winter had not yet returned from their hunt. Areanel tried to reach for the tether that bonded her to her wolves, but her power was dwindling—being pulled from her by the arrowheads.