AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t think so,” Soren said, feigning courage, although his droopy posture suggested otherwise. As soon as the thought occurred, Soren quickly straightened his shoulders, his gaze darting to me.
Out!I hissed.
Sorry.His shadow mouse returned to its hole.
Great divine and Lord of Light on a Sunday, that was getting old.
Harper and Lyra stepped off to the side. Harper whispered something to her. Lyra’s eyes were wide. She looked horrified, like she was on the verge of a breakdown.
“You should have stayed back at the manor.” Harper’s voice was no longer a whisper, worry written plainly in her doting gaze, her hands gently rubbing Lyra’s arms comfortingly.
Lyra trembled, her knees wobbling.
Harper took her in her arms, her hand rhythmically stroking Lyra’s hair. Lyra clutched on to her as if her very life depended on it, as if some horrible monster were lapping at her, threatening to drag her away.
“It’s going to be okay,” Harper reassured her as she gently tipped Lyra’s chin up and sealed her promise with a kiss. Under the light of the moon, they looked like a painted picture, sealed in one another’s embrace.
Ryker strolled to his sister’s side. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
She smirked, a visibly much calmer Lyra still held in her arms. “You’re on.”
Harper’s face was cast in a honey-soft glow as she nocked her arrow against the string of her bow. Her curved bow and arrow were both crafted of flame—simple and elegant, a testament to her craftsmanship. She kept the flame dull purposefully, so our location was not exposed. Elbow straight, her fingers drew the taut string back. The limbs flexed as the tension increased, and when she released the arrow, they vibrated with a sigh of relief. She didn’t lower her bow, her gaze transfixed on her arrow as it launched into the night, soaring over the wooden barracks and embedding itself in one of the cloth tents.
Her lips curled in triumph. “Bullseye.”
Lyra leapt up and down, sharing in Harper’s victory.
A gentle breeze brushed my cheek, caressing the ends of my hair before it tugged reluctantly away. Seconds later, Harper’s flame arrow burst into a monstrous, hungry flame, eagerly lapping at whatever it could taste—whatever it could burn. The fire leapt to another tent as if it had a mind of its own, but I knew, by the scent of his magic, the will of his power—it was all Von.
He did it all without moving a muscle.
The tents continued to catch fire, the flames jumping from one to the next, doubling in size by the second, until the air above was tinged with a smoky orange glow.
Men staggered out, screaming and shouting, alerting the others, telling them to get up. As the flames multiplied, so did the men. I was amazed how many poured out of one tent, wondered how they all fit in there—there would not be enough room for all of them to lie down. The training grounds buzzed with chaos, like a jar of upturned, shaken ants scrambling over one another, uncertain what to do next.
My eyes darted back and forth, trying to find Kaleb, but none of the men were him.
I tilted my face to the starry sky, a prayer on my breath.Please, Lady Light, let me find him.
One man grabbed as many buckets as he could carry. He shoved them into the hands of the others, rallying them to fill them with water from the well, to put out the flames.
My heart struck with such force it nearly fractured my chest in two—I knew that unyielding determination.
“Kaleb!” I screamed. I didn’t think—I just moved. I ran.
An arm cinched around my torso, nearly sweeping me off the ground. “You cannot just charge in there,” Von commanded, his voice firm in my ear, his grip constricting.
Imprisoned by my own sudden need to save Kaleb, I abandoned the plan and shoved against Von’s arm. “I need to get him out.”
“And we will. But we stick to the plan,” he countered, his arm slipping from my waist when he felt my fight calm. His eyes met mine. “It is your turn now.”
Clarity restored, I nodded and stepped forward. Concentrating, I reached within, my body mapping out every droplet of water that surrounded us. I focused on the well, whispering to the water within—coaxing it to seep into the veins in the ground, sucking it down, lower and lower, until it was no longer of use.
Until the well ran dry—not a single drop left.
And just as Von had planned, the soldiers were forced to abandon the well and go outside of the barracks, to the river north of the camp, making them farther scattered apart and harder for the soldiers to keep track of.
“We’ll keep them busy,” Ryker said as he raised his bow made of white flame.
