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Hands at my side, I shoved through the growing crowd of Northern soldiers.
“I need archers!” I shouted. “Now!”
Raum caught sight of me, brow lifted. He stood beside the Northern fae who seemed to command the armies.
“Archers.” I shouted at them, then pointed to the higher peaks of Valen’s wall.
Raum’s gaze dropped to my misty hands for half a breath before he and the Northern fae roared into the night for arrows and anyone with a bow to follow the Eastern queen.
I did not wish to be queen. In my mind, I was not. But in this moment my steps were led by mesmer, as if the magic in my blood knew how to protect my folk, and if it meant they called me a ruler, so be it.
“Where, Mal?” Gunnar asked, breathless, but his bow loaded. “Tell us where.”
At my opposite side Herja notched an arrow. I had so many questions for the woman. I wanted to falter beneath her grace, her fearsome battle paint, her scrutiny. But she gave me a mute nod, as if signaling she awaitedmyword.
“Take the highest position you can. Set the damn arrows aflame,” I snapped. “Listen to my commands on where to shoot and everyone else be ready to strike when we weed them out.”
“Tor!” Herja called out after a Northern warrior had doused the line of arrows in oil. “We need fire!”
Not more than a few moments passed before a stern Night Folk man stood next to us. The Northern folk moved like a flawless dance. Then again, they’d battled together before. Worked as one perfectly honed unit to defeat an enemy army. Still, their speed was impressive.
Tor held out his palms. I fought to hide my surprise when blue fire ignited over his skin. In quick steps, he raced the line of a dozen archers and ignited their arrowheads.
I took a deep breath and focused on the skydguard. They were nothing but snakes hidden in the grass. The Black Palace guards had memorized the route through turns of training. I’d take those memories for myself.
An icy rush flooded my veins like a frozen river. All my focus fell on finding any skydguard. Did Kase find fear this way? Did mesmer open his mind, leading him to the perfect target? I didn’t know, but at once, images and thoughts that did not belong to me formed in my head.
My eyes flashed open. Smoke and ash built new shapes in my mind as the shadows slithered into the alleyways, dug into the sewers, climbed broken trellises of tenements. The more I desired to invade every memory, every preconceived thought of the skydguard, the sharper those images became.
I didn’t know what guard’s mind I invaded, or if I’d invaded many at once, but I knew the path they took. Thoughts of recounting steps, recounting the plan in their heads, and now those thoughts were mine.
There was an alley that dropped into a short tunnel. The tunnel’s mouth opened a mere ten paces from the shoreline. The skyds used it as cover and would emerge mere paces from the gap any moment.
“Gunnar, aim there!” I pointed at a mound. From this angle it looked like nothing but a lump in the soil with shrubs and briars.
Gunnar pointed his arrow at the same moment five skydguard broke through a concealed opening behind the shrubs.
The first guard fumbled out. He looked around for half a heartbeat, as if he could not recall how he’d ended up there. A giddy thrill burst through my heart. More skyds spilled out with the same befuddled expression. I’d stolen their memories, left them lost and confused. The poor bastards had no clue why they were fighting in this place and this time.
We didn’t give time for any guards to figure it out before a fiery arrow split through the first guard’s heart. Screams of the dying lifted the hair on my arms as our archers ignited the hidden tunnel in flames before the skyds could breathe the sea air.
Mesmer pulled me back to another thought, another mind. Shapes formed in my head as the shadows coiled around a new skydguard hidden somewhere in the dark. The guard’s memories revealed he was currently running behind one of the tall wooden gates lining the edge of the inner township. A distance of fifty to sixty paces.
I studied the gates and saw nothing, but the ashy filaments in my mind proved they were there, scurrying like rats as they worked their way toward us.
The memory gave up that the guard was huddled with other skyds and Alvers. Rifters and Black Palace Elixists were there, ready to peek over the tops of the gate, then break us, or burn us out. Kase and Valen were the most exposed as they built the walls and would be the primary targets.
Then, the Alvers of the palace would point their mesmer and poisons at us in the gaps.
Once the Alvers took out enough of the threat, the skydguard would follow with steel and cut us down.
“The fence!” I shouted.
From here it was impossible to see any sign of movement, but they were there. My mesmer stole memories. I was seeing the skydguard’s past thoughts, so they would be steps ahead of the memories I was reading. It cut down our time to prepare.
I did not know when they’d strike, only that the plan was to strike, and soon.
“Be ready,” I cried. “They have Rifters and Elixists. There are at least two units of skyds.”
