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The ladder jerked, and something huge pulled at Iryana’s leg. She looked down, knuckles white as she clung to the ladder as hard as she could. Claws dug into her boot.

Iryana screamed as she fought to hold on, and the ladder dropped a foot. She looked up, eyes wide with fear as she realized the ladder was falling.

In that moment, only the thought that she’d given her clan a little more time brought her some peace. Everything else was fear.

For a moment, she thought she was looking at her dead body, that she’d been killed so fast she didn’t realize it. Then she realized it was her sister’s face, leaning over the wall, hazel eyes narrowed with rage and tension sharpening her cheeks. Her hand was at her cheek, drawing an arrow.

Misha let go, the arrow flying so close to Iryana’s head that she felt a puff of wind on her cheek.

The force trying to pull her down suddenly disappeared, and then the ladder was yanked up so fast she bounced against the wall. She heard thuds as the dakii threw themselves at the wall beneath her. Hands grabbed her arms, the ladder still rising.

She tumbled over the side of the wall, someone’s arms wrapping around her to slow the drop. Everything was spinning; everything hurt.

Iryana forced her eyes open, body shaking as she tried to breathe. Pyetar stared down at her. His eyes were wild, his breathing heavy. All his words from the night before slammed into her with the desperation of his gaze.

With Iryana still half in Pyetar’s lap, Misha collapsed on top of her. “I thought they were going to get you!”

“No, you saved me,” Iryana croaked, body aching where Misha clung to her.

Then she took in the sounds of fighting, registered the rocking wall as more dakii slammed into it. The soldiers would try to hold the wall like they had the ledge.

Iryana tried to get up, but her body refused to listen now that she was out of immediate danger.

“Get her off the wall,” Pyetar begged Iryana’s uncle, and then Dinhal lifted her into his arms.

Iryana resisted at first, but Pyetar caught her eye. “Let us hold the wall now.”

She nodded, but only because she had no choice.

Her uncle carried her to where Levek sat with the other injured soldiers, the single water-forged healer bandaging his leg. Iryana grimaced at the sight; he would need stitches and wouldn’t be able to walk on it for a while. Not without serious magic. Misha collapsed at her side.

Iryana looked around in a daze. So many orders and shouts sounded from the wall that Iryana couldn’t understand a single one. The formations of soldiers between her and the wall were tense and ready to fight. The injured around her moaned.

Someone gave her a bottle filled with something that tingled like water-imbued magic. She drank it absently, ears ringing.

She’d seen their forces tiring, had seen them losing ground. Had planned for the eventuality of them needing to retreat. Yet, part of her didn’t truly believe the wall could ever fall. They needed to hold one more day, but she didn’t think they were going to make it.

She had failed, and that realization gutted her.

A little voice in her mind whispered that maybe her mother had been right.

Tremors crawled up her limbs, sending her already racing heart into a desperate gallop.

A healer asked where she hurt, if she was injured, but Iryana ignored her, staring at the wall. The wood groaned, and the length of it rippled. Everyone on the wall clambered for the ladders, some jumping off to avoid being crushed.

Iryana scrambled for Misha’s hand.

Loud cracks shot through the air and Iryana jerked. A long section of wall snapped from the rest, crashing down. A loud, vibrating thud radiated from where the wall struck the ground.

Dakii poured through the gap.

A falcon’s cry sounded three times in quick succession.

Chapter Forty-Two

The post had fallen.

Iryana was stunned, frozen in place.