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The ground shuddered. It rocked and cracked. Screams from the sea fae rose.
Gunnar and I stood shoulder to shoulder. Davorin winced against whatever tether Calista’s words had placed around his functions; he watched helplessly as the bit of bloodied earth beneath us shifted and ripped apart from the sea fae camp.
Harald’s tent tilted. Gunnar shoved the canvas aside. I knocked out the poles until the flaps, ropes, and posts tumbled into a crack in the bedrock.
I wanted the sea folk to see this. I wanted them to see it all.
“Silas!” Across the new cracks in the camp, Calista sprinted for us.
Her wild braids were like gilded chains in the sunlight. Her whole countenance seemed to ignite in beautiful light. Perhaps it was only me who could see the burst of her power in her veins, but she was damn radiant.
Amidst the dust and bursts of soil and pebbles, Calista sprinted for the space. “They’re coming! Sing with . . .” She let out a cry when she leapt over a widening piece of broken earth. Calista hardly took a breath before she sprinted for us again. She collided against me, arms around my waist, breaths heavy. “Sing . . . sing with me, Silas.”
I lowered my brow to Calista’s and wrapped her in my arms. Davorin raged, unable to move through the dream song binding him in place.
“You have the words,” I whispered. “We finish this now.”
Calista’s long fingers dug into my waist as the slow, deep tone of my voice tangled with her simple words. A song of safety and protection. A song of justice and the summons of the gifts of fate.
Four thrones of fated light,
Rise and claim your fight.
Each with a place, have it be known.
Rid lands of hate and claim each throne.
Davorin’s head cracked against the ground when another violent shudder knocked the posts of what was left of the tent. Blue flames rushed along the edges of the broken camp. It surrounded the bit of earth we’d robbed away to keep Davorin separate from them.
It ensured they’d keep a distance and left the battle lord to face his enemies.
At the sight of the pyre, sea folk ran about in chaos.
Elise and Valen emerged through the smoke and flames. The queen held a blade, shielding her husband as he lowered to the ground, closer to the edge than before. His dark eyes were locked on the sea folk, then to us.
Doubtless, Valen Ferus was going to attempt to trap everyone in place until the end. Taxing, but determination was carved over his face.
All the gifts.
As if Elise understood the toll it would take on his fury, she gripped his shoulder, the blade in her other hand. Fate was fickle. Elise Ferus was mortal, a non-magical being, yet her simple touch always seemed to burn through the Night Folk king like an amplifier of fury.
Cracks and ravines and bursts of jagged stone devoured the camp. Sea fae scrambled toward the water’s edge. Some were speared by Valen’s assault. Others fled for the trees, desperate to break away from the earth bender.
Some fell to their knees, grasping at roots or stones, cursing the gods.
“A queen of choice,” Calista shouted at the battle lord. He dug his fingers into the soil, cursing and trying to escape the violent shift of earth. “Their power lives in the earth of this land. It strengthens us, fuels us. And you did not defeat them!”
The ring on Davorin’s hand brightened again. A wall of darkness surrounded the camp. Any of the sea folk who readied to fight, who thought they might show a bit of boldness, lost their backbone.
Blades dropped. Sea fae raced away from inky shadows, keen to escape the horrors of the land.
Some succeeded and reached the water. Waves rose, swallowing them out to the depths where they called forth their fierce ships. Others were locked in the ring of shadows and met with every warrior, thief, and Rave from each realm.
At the edge of the broken earth, the Nightrender stepped out, his hand clasped with his Memory Thief.
“A queen of devotion,” Calista roared, her hands still clasped tightly around my waist.
Davorin didn’t try to stand against the rage of mesmer. He met her eyes with hatred in his.
