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Anger churned in my gut as I took in her fear.
Pride swelled my chest at the stubborn, defiant tilt of her head.
No matter how afraid Anaria was, she’d do this. She would never back down; she would never retreat. She would always, always fight.
As for me, I’d be the flesh and blood shield between her and whatever came out of the Caverns, and nothing would get through me.
With luck, they’d see her hair and hold back their magic and refrain from loosing the hounds. If they did come out into the open, then Tristan would keep them pinned down long enough we’d be on our way to rendezvous with Zorander and Tavion and come up with a real plan that didn’t include using Anaria as fucking bait.
I was her shield. I wouldalwaysbe her shield.
The words became my mantra, echoing in my every breath, every heartbeat, until the fear faded away, replaced by cold, clear resolve.
I drew my sword, eyes pinned on the opening in the sheer side of the cliff. They’d release the hounds first, then the soldiers would be sent out, some archers among them. Then the mages would come, bearing their death magic.
We had to stay out of range, but the forest pressed in from the right, forming a narrow corridor. The corridor Zor’s army would be trapped in if Tavion failed to stop his assault. We’d be trapped there as well, if we allowed ourselves to be.
“No matter what happens, do not stop.” I pointed my sword at the corridor, the enormous pile of rocks in the center. “We’ll make two passes. The first one will be straight past the entrance, the second…behind that rock formation, which will protect us from the arrows and the mages’ magic, if we stay close to the trees. Keep moving, no matter what.”
Once we made the turn, the hounds would be our biggest threat. Fast and deadly, they were vicious to a fault, but Tristan’s arrows would fell them…if he could get a clear enough shot.
“I won’t stop if you don’t.” Anaria kept her chin up, her eyes wide with fear, though she had no idea what was coming.
She had never seen war.
And she’d never seen a hunting hound.
“If I go down, you keep going,” I told her steadily, fear clogging my throat. “You keep riding straight for Zor. Do not stop for me, do not wait for Tristan.” She just narrowed her eyes.
“I mean it, Anaria. Swear to me you will not sacrifice yourself to save me. I’m not worth it.”
Her face lit with fury, her voice little more than a hiss when she was finally able to speak. “Don’t you ever say that to me again. You are worth everything to me, Raziel.Everything.”
Her words staggered me, filled with such rage and passion and utter conviction, leaving me breathless. But I couldn’t be deterred, not if I was going to keep her alive.
“Anaria…” I matched her stubbornness, but she just waved her hand in the air.
“Don’t go down and we won’t have a problem.” I gritted my teeth to stop from screaming. If there was any other choice, I’d drag her back up to the Wynter Palace, but we were committed now.
I had seen too much death. So had Zor. Even Tavion had seen battle. And if there was one thing I knew about war, it was that we’d all do unspeakable things before this was over. Things that would leave an indelible mark on our souls.
I’d protect her from that, like I’d protect her from everything else.
“Take a deep breath,” I warned her. “And keep your horse at a steady gallop. The terrain is fairly flat, and we’ll stay clear of the trees.” I wished there was more I could say, but I dug my heels into the horse’s side and the beast leapt forward with a grunt, heading straight for the dark mouth of the Caverns that marked the end of the Northern Road.
The last time I’d been here, we’d camped in the mouth of the Caverns. The main cave was big enough to hold two thousand men. The smaller tunnels leading off could hide another thousand. And yet, according to the old spider, only mages and hounds and a smattering of soldiers were contained in that darkness.
If the Oracle had lied, if there were thousands in there…Ridiculous odds. Deadly odds.
Magic was the only way we could fight those numbers, but I’d never ask Anaria to use her magic, not after what happened with Solok.
Not when I’d seen the price his death had exacted from her.
An impotent, blunt rage hammered at me as we raced toward the opening. Pale, shocked faces emerged from the darkness—ten…twenty. The sound of our steeds’ thundering hooves echoed from the sheer face of the cliff, mixing with the shouts of the mages and soldiers who suddenly realized who Anaria was.
And hopefully knew how much she was worth.
Anaria’s long, white hair streamed behind her like a war banner, and when the first arrows flew over our heads, I shouted for her to duck and picked up the pace, our horses’ manes whipping our faces as we entered the narrow chute between the cliffs and the forest.
