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We both knew how this was going to end. We didn’t have the numbers now that we’d split up our forces, and if the dragon was here, we had to fall back to Ezulari. Our only option was to force a siege and pray for allies, but someone had to buy time for everyone else to get out of there.
“I want you to escort the non-combatants back to Ezulari,” I said, tightening my sword belt. “Secure the castle and tell Devonay she has command. The information about the mountain wards is in my office. She knows where.”
“Cian.”
“As soon as everything there is secure, fly to Jaida and tell Gresh everything that’s happened here. If you hurry, you might be able to mobilize the cavalry and get it here in time to break the siege in our favor.”
“Cian!” Hellion’s hands closed on either side of my jaw, and they drew me into a firm, claiming kiss that left me breathless when we parted. “I left you to grieve alone once before. I won’t make the same mistake a second time.”
I lowered my head, fighting the tightness in my throat. “He might have survived.”
“You and I both know the chances of that if the battle was lost. Nevahn was far too stubborn. He wanted so badly to bring you a victory.” They kissed each of my cheeks through tears. “I will stand with you. For Nevahn.”
I inhaled and stood, donning my helm. “For Nevahn.”
“Cian!” This time, it was Xeltec. He ducked through the tent door and paused there, big eyes shining as if he were about to tear up at any moment. The old weapons master’s voice was tight as he asked, “Is there news?”
“No.” It didn’t matter that there wasn’t news. He was old and experienced enough to know what it meant that the enemy was mobilizing to attack. They wouldn’t do so unless they were confident in their victory.
“He might still be out there.” Xeltec took a step forward.
I gave him my back as I finished readying for battle. “You’re to go with Will and the other non-combatants back to Ezulari. Tell Devonay to be ready for a siege.”
“And what about you?” He clenched his jaw and met my eyes.
Hellion took up their khopesh. “We will wait for Nevahn and reinforcements from the survivors at Lach Ban-Lenon. We will hold the enemy as long as we can, until the last of us falls.”
“Cian,” he said, grabbing my arm. “There’s no reason for you to sacrifice yourself, even if he is gone.”
My gaze fell to the dry ground just outside my tent and the supernatural fog rolling over it. Nisang had said the same thing to me after Ren died. He and everyone else had encouraged me to live, even when all I had wanted to do was die to be with him. I wanted death in those days more than I had ever wanted life.
My friends had convinced me that living for vengeance was better than dying for love. But they were wrong, and Hellion had been right. Living for vengeance was just a waking death, a slow and painful decay all its own. Nevahn had shown me that and brought us back together where we belonged. He’d reminded us both that life meant more than battle plans and blood for blood. Life was forged nails and crimson coals burning late into the night. It was magic lanterns and secret hot springs, stolen smiles, and messages sent in the kiss of another, the coarse feeling of his beard hair in my fingers, and the sound of his laugh. To live was to love, and I had been dead for so long after losing Ren, it took the love of another to bring me back to life.
And now he was gone, too.
“Go home to Dorric, Xeltec,” I said. “And make sure the others make it home to theirs.”
The Nightmare conceded with a slow nod. “Gods watch over you both.”
The Scourge and the Unburnt stood in short columns, ready to march. They shifted to attention when I approached, Odan joining me in front of them.
I lifted a hand to get their attention. “The enemy is mobilizing to move against us. Even after dividing, their force is still many thousands strong, and we are few. They will come at us hoping to overwhelm us with their numbers. But I say every one of you is worth ten of them! We aren’t out here to conquer. We are not motivated by riches or a thirst for power. We are here because this isourland. Our blood has watered the soil here for generations. We have bled to be here, buried our children and our parents in this dirt. Our friends, our lovers. We have more than earned the right to die here. I cannot promise you victory, or glory. I cannot even promise that when the sun sets, there will be enough of us left to bury the dead. But I can promise you this. Stand with me, fight with me, and I will fight with you. As long as one of us lives, we will hold the mountain pass so that others can escape. And if today is the day we die, then so be it. I do not fear death. I fear only that I won’t take enough of those bastards with me.”
A rousing cry went up from the Skaags. Feet stomped. Spears and shields clattered. The sound carried into the mouth of the pass at my back, echoing as if we were more than a few hundred tired soldiers.
Hellion thrust their khopesh into the air. “To war!”
“To war!” came the answering cry, and we turned to march into the hills to meet our enemy at the narrowest point.
Iassistedthehealersuntil I couldn’t stand. Healing had never been a skill I possessed, not even in a non-magical sense. I couldn’t set bones, treat burns, or amputate limbs, but I could bring water. I could sit with the dying and hold their hands, listen to their last rattling breaths.
When they were gone and free from their pain, I could carry them to the pit where they would later burn in a mass pyre.
As the light came up and color crept back into the world, my knees finally gave out. I had to be carried to the makeshift medic tent, where someone finally convinced me to let them look at my wounds.
The worst was the cut on my back, but it was still nothing compared to what I had seen Nisang do to his own wings.
I sat on the cot, scars exposed for all to see while they cleaned and bandaged my wounds. Thorn lay across my lap, naked and dull. It would never again sing.
