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Nobody paid good money for something they didn’t plan to use.
Hadn’t Torin warned me he’d use me as leverage? And I had no illusions about how—in whatever way suited the Shadow King best.
Better I take control of my life now, while I still had the chance, before I was caged behind stone walls and iron bars with no options at all.
The Shadow King was mostly myth, controlling a dark, endless army that swallowed most of the eastern section of what used to be Old Valarian. I’d told Ember so many stories about him over the years—adding my own embellishments to the already dark, gruesome tales—I could hardly remember what was real and what I’d made up.
But now…I was running out of time.
I had to sleep with one of these males before we reached Blackcastle…but how?
We still had to cross a barren flatland, ending in an enormous chasm, the rocky ravine so deep I couldn’t see the bottom, just sheer stone walls that fell straight down. Beyond that, obscured by a fog of smoke, loomed the faint outline of buildings. “How long to the city?” I asked through chattering teeth.
Tavion smirked, as if he relished my fear. “A day, providing we’re not fighting our way to the bridge.”
One day.
I had one day to claim this magic, or I was on my own in a place that would most likely kill me.
I didn’t know what I thought I’d do, seduce one of these four males—two who despised me, one who barely tolerated me and the last, who I couldn’t even touch—behind the nearest tree, but I never got the chance.
Zor insisted we keep going until we reached the bridge, and when I saw what crossed the ravine, my heart stopped. I didn’t have to worry about surviving Solarys, because this…we’d never make it acrossthat.
The rickety span was little more than a few warped wooden boards strung across the gaping chasm, with some flimsy ropes on the sides, nothing to keep us from plunging off to our deaths.
Tavion, Zor and Tristan huddled together, scanning the worn path leading to the bridge, dust covered and exhausted. I was so sore I knew my legs wouldn’t hold me once I dismounted.
“We can’t…isn’t there another way?” I turned to Raziel, the high winds whipping my hair around my face.
“Not with only two horses.” He said quietly. “There’s a stone bridge twenty miles north,” He jerked his head to our left, “but that would take too long. This is our best option of getting you into the city alive.” Somehow, I highly doubted that.
“How is your arm?” He nodded to the wound he’d healed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t go slower. I know it hurt.”
I tried to smile. “I’m just happy to not be bleeding.”
The city rose just beyond the bridge, the solid stone structure seemed so impenetrable, I saw why Tavion called the place a stronghold. The Keep was surrounded by a wall twice as tall as Tempeste’s, and beyond that, spread out in all directions, was the Solarys army.
All I saw were lines of tents and barracks and campfires, horses and patrols marched in formation, puffs of dust and black smoke rolling across the bare earth, hardly a tree in sight.
“Welcome to Blackcastle, Anaria.” Raziel said softly. “When you reach the Keep, you will have to…”
He never finished, because the stonewraiths attacked.
Zor was already moving to meet them, sweeping his blade like a scythe, leather armor glittering in the sun, but there were so many. They seemed to come up out of the earth itself, as if the dry, barren dirt gave birth to these horrors.
Raziel fought shoulder to shoulder with Zorander, clearing the way for Tavion to launch himself onto the stallion behind me and dig in his heels, sending the enormous beast hurtling toward the deadly bridge.
I turned in time to see three creatures latch onto Raz and take him down. I’d barely shouted for Tavion to help him when the stallion jerked forward in a horrifying crunch of bone and a high-pitched whinny, pitching me through the air as the world blurred.
I slammed into the ground hard, my shoulder taking most of the impact, tasted the copper tang of blood while I tried to catch my breath. Gray, bony fingers shot toward me, but I was already rolling away from the flailing stallion, away from Tavion, who climbed to his feet, mopping blood off his face, bellowing orders I couldn’t hear.
I rolled over something sharp, and I came to my feet with Tavion’s sword in both hands. I gripped the enormous hilt, realizing this wasn’t Tavion’s weapon at all.
The sword was Julian’s.
And far too heavy for someone like me.
I tipped the sword toward the wraith’s chest, at the same time Tavion fell on another creature with his knife, hacking off chunks of rock. The creature kept coming, impaling itself onto my blade, shoving me backwards. I barely avoided being crushed, dragged the blade free and surveyed what to do.
