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“You should hang back,” Hellion advised.
I narrowed my eyes at them. “Since when have I ever commanded from the rear?”
Nisang frowned at us. His forehead creased with worry, though he said nothing. He was thinking about that damned black stone. Damn him. Sometimes, I hated that there was just enough gargoyle in both of us to know what it meant, and not enough to listen.
I turned my attention forward to where it could do some good and lifted my right hand. It was the signal our people had been waiting for. Arrows rained down from the rocks on either side of the pass, embedding themselves in enemy shields. A few found their mark, but not enough to make a difference. After a second volley of arrows, I drew my sword and thrust it into the air, the signal to charge.
The cavalry led the vanguard, commanded by me, and with aerial support from Nisang’s unit. At range, the enemy’s best defensive units were Shadow Weavers, but lacking those, Brenna’s forces relied upon their djinn. They were lightly armored and commanded fire magic. Our troops were heavily warded against fire, the protective symbols painted on the flanks of our horses and upon our armor.
Flame seared the air on either side of me, deflected by the wards. The fire fell on empty air, burning no one. We cut down the first djinn with ease, charging through their line. I brought Phantasm down, taking heads and cleaving into armor with every blow. Salamanders closed, stepping in with hooked weapons to drag soldiers from horseback to the ground, where they’d spit acid in their eyes and stab them. I deflected two hooks while more arrows rained down from above.
I cut the head off a salamander, took the sword arm of a djinn… I killed and maimed so damn many in those first few minutes that I quickly lost count. The ebb and flow of battle became as mundane to me as kneading bread to a baker. This was what I had spent my life training to do, what I dreamt of, what drove me. Blood and sweat and victory. There was no fear of death or defeat in me. Such things were luxuries I could not afford.
Fuck the witch’s black stone prophecy. We would take Slayne’s Pass and send Brenna’s forces scattering into the hills beyond.
The enemy line buckled, bowing in the center. They broke and ran by the dozens. Drunk on our own bloodlust, or perhaps high on the prospect of an easy victory, we gave chase, cutting down runners all the way to the end of the pass. The high cliffs on either side fell away, giving ground to rolling brown hills and burnt-out farmland. Brenna’s army scattered with no discernable pattern, running for those hills.
My horse slowed as a shadow fell over us from above and a terrifying roar shook the ground. I turned my eyes to the sky and my blood chilled at the sight of a bone white dragon circling above.
“Dragon!” someone shouted. “Retreat!”
Our advance faltered as the dragon circled.
“No!” I brought my horse around, eying the line of Skaags falling back into the pass where they’d be easy targets. “Stand your ground!”
The dragon swooped in, flying low overhead with another mighty roar. Fire erupted at my back, hot and searing, setting my army alight. Weak shields of magic flickered into place, the Unburnt activating their defenses, but it was too late, and it wasn’t enough.
“Cian!”
I heard Hellion’s voice and turned, searching for them, but the sky had grown dark, a black inky fog roiling over everything. It was so thick, I couldn’t see more than a few inches on either side of me. My horse started shifting uneasily in the dark as screams erupted all around us.
And then the shadow came alive.
Inky tendrils shot out from the black air, four arms, eight, a dozen. There were too many to count, and each one bearing death. I cut through two and four more appeared, reaching for me. A shadowy tendril curled around my horse, tightening like a rope and cutting through.
The horse died with a scream, and I threw myself away from the body to keep from being crushed. I never found the ground. A dozen black blades made of shadow slashed at me. I parried as many as I could with my dreamsteel blade. The others weren’t so lucky. Without dreamsteel, they were helpless. I could hear them screaming, dying all around me. What the Shadow Weavers didn’t kill, the dragon fire would soon pick off.
We were done. The battle lost, and perhaps the war with it.
“Cian!” Hellion broke through the wall of shadow, weaving a spell of their own. Black shadow tinged in gold outlines extended from their back, rushing to push back the darkness. The two spells clashed in a deadly explosion of black magic. Shadowy needles jabbed at us from all angles, so fast that Hellion could barely keep them all back.
“Go!” they snarled, sending a blast of shadow to intercept an arm reaching for me. “Get to safety!”
“Go where?” I sliced through two more tendrils, knowing it was a pointless endeavor. “The pass is burning! We’re surrounded!”
With a shout, they turned and sent a wall of gold and black behind them, cutting through the enemy and the fire, carving out a path. Sweat raced down their temple and dotted their forehead. “Go! I cannot hold it for long!”
“Not without you!” I brought my sword up and sliced through the enemy spells, but there were so many I could barely make a dent.
Blackness swirled all around us, cutting us off from the army. I sliced at it to make a hole big enough for us to escape. If the dark magic enveloped us, it would crush us. Another slash and I could see through to the other side. The opening lasted only a moment before Brenna’s soldiers slithered and crawled out of the darkness, teeth and claws gleaming. We had seconds before we were completely cut off again.
“Go, Cian!”
“Not without you!” I shouted.
“Go! I will follow!” Wind roared through the pass, making their hair whip around in all directions.
“Hellion!” I gripped their arm, but they pulled away.
