“He’s in shock,” Trystan repeats, his voice catching with emotion.
“It’s all my fault,” Aislinn sobs, shaking her head. “My father kept alluding to something like this... I should have found out exactly what they were planning to do.”
“It’s not your fault, Aislinn,” Trystan insists. “Everyone knew of the threats.”
Aislinn keeps shaking her head from side to side. “I knew the Mage Council was planning something...but I never dreamed... How could they?” Aislinn falls into Jarod, embracing him tightly, trying in vain to break through his haze. “Jarod, please, it’s me. It’s Aislinn.”
A frantic Ariel stalks out of our lodging, wings flapping, her crow on her shoulder, her two chickens trailing her in a panic as she treads down the hallway. She peers through the hallway window, out over the field.
Ariel turns, her pale green eyes wide. “They’re here.”
Yvan, Trystan and I rush to the window.
Andras is riding up the field with a large contingent of Vu Trin sorceresses, their black military tunics marked with glowing blue runes, silver stars strapped diagonally across their chests and curved rune-swords at their sides. Commander Vin is riding beside Andras, Ni Vin following close behind. And, to my astonishment, Andras’s mother, Professor Volya, rides on his other side, little Konnor held tight in one arm.
As soon as the Vu Trin reach the base of the tower, Commander Vin leaps off her horse and begins yelling out orders in the Noi language. The other sorceresses immediately dismount and fan out around the North Tower.
A heavily armed Andras rushes inside, his weighty steps echoing up the tower’s stairs. Trystan opens the hallway door, and Andras bursts inside as Rafe and Wynter join us in the hallway.
“The Gardnerians have taken out both the Northern and Southern packs,” Andras says without preamble, his expression steely. “They’re all dead. The Vu Trin just received a rune-hawk from the Mage Council. The Council sent hawks out to the Verpacian Council and the Verpacian military, as well—they’re demanding that Verpacia cede their land.” Andras looks to Rafe. “Vogel is on his way here. The Gardnerian military is coming for Diana and Jarod—they want Gunther Ulrich’s children. They’re already within the city limits.”
Determination fills Rafe’s eyes as he abruptly turns and strides back toward our lodging. Andras and the rest of us follow him inside as Rafe lifts Diana up into his arms.
“We’re getting them out now,” Rafe says to Andras. “Are the horses ready?”
“No,” comes Andras’s succinct reply.
Anger flashes across my brother’s face.
“We’re not taking Diana and Jarod anywhere,” Andras says firmly. “It would be suicide.”
Ignoring him, Rafe strides toward the hall, holding an unconscious Diana, but Andras refuses to budge from where he stands in front of the door. Rafe narrows his eyes darkly at him. “Get out of my way, Andras.”
“No, Rafe. Normally, I would respect your judgment, but right now it is compromised.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes,” Andras rumbles, “it is.” He tilts his head toward Diana. “Because you’re in love with her. You’re not thinking clearly. Where can you go, Rafe? Think. The Gardnerians have some kind of weapon that can take out large numbers of Lupines, despite their immunity to magic. They took down two entire packs in one night. And just look at them.” Andras gestures to Diana and Jarod. “One is unconscious and the other is in shock. They are in no condition to escape, much less fight.”
“They could Change us,” Rafe insists. “We can fight.”
“The full moon is more than a week away,” Andras counters. “The Gardnerians will find us long before then. They’re converging on this city right now. They’ll capture you before the day is out.”
“So, you want us to just leave them here for the Gardnerians to take?” Rafe snarls.
“No,” Andras counters. “I want you to leave them here for the Vu Trin to guard. They arrived first, so they can seize the higher ground and the advantage on this field.”
Rafe glares at Andras. Then he walks back to my bed and lays Diana down with exquisite gentleness. Then Rafe goes over to my empty desk chair and kicks it so violently that its leg cracks, cursing loudly as he does so, causing Wynter and me to jump in alarm. My heart thunders in my chest.
Rafe pauses to rake his fingers through his hair. “They should have Changed us,” he rages to Andras, “back when we had the chance.”
“They couldn’t have,” Andras says. “Not without pack approval.”
“Jarod might have.”
“No one knew it would come to this.”
Rafe’s face fills with anguish. “I can’t lose her!”
“Then listen to me carefully,” Andras says firmly. “There will be a time to grieve, but it is not now. We must all think, and fast.”
“You have to get out of here,” I tell Rafe, urgency welling. “Trystan, too. You attacked a military apprentice, and Trystan pulled his wand on them. They’ll arrest you both.”
Rafe blinks at me, his eyes a storm.
“You are no use to her in prison,” I doggedly insist, fear rising. “Go get Jules. And Lucretia and Fernyllia.”
Rafe holds my stare for a long moment, his jaw rigid. “I’ll get them.”
“The Icarals have to get out, too,” I say, my voice shaking. I turn to Yvan. “Ariel and Wynter have to get out of here before the Gardnerians come.”
Yvan nods, his gaze searing. “I’ll take them. I can bring them to Naga’s cave.” He looks to Wynter. “We’ll need to find your brother and Rhys.”
“I’ll find them,” Trystan volunteers, wand in hand. “I have an idea of where they might be. I’ll bring them to the cave. You get Ariel and Wynter out of here, Yvan.”
Wynter and Ariel immediately begin throwing together some of their belongings as Trystan leaves to find Cael and Rhys. Ariel’s chickens run frantically around her legs as she throws books and clothing into her ratty travel bag.
Andras crosses the room to stand before Brendan, who’s slumped down against a wall. “You need to come with me,” Andras says, his deep voice imperative as he holds out his hand for Brendan to take. Looking haggard, Brendan grasps onto it and lets himself be pulled up. “The Gardnerians don’t know that you and Konnor survived,” Andras tells him. “The Vu Trin are going to bring my son and my mother and me east. They’re prepared to bring you with us, as well.”
The full magnitude of this spears through me. Andras, Brendan and Konnor are leaving, and I’ll probably never see them again. Professor Volya, too.
Andras glances over at Diana. “It will all come down to her,” he says to Rafe, his face grim. “Everything rests on her shoulders. When she wakes, she needs to keep control of herself.”
“I know,” Rafe says.
“Rafe,” Andras continues, “self-control has never been her strong suit. If Jarod and Diana are going to survive, she will need to rein in her rage and give the Vu Trin time to formulate a plan to get them out.”
Rafe glares at him. “She’s the daughter of an alpha, Andras.”
Andras is unmoved. “Who just hurled herself off a cliff.”
“Diana knew that wouldn’t kill her,” Brendan says, his voice haggard. “She knew it would only give her a few hours of peace. That it would keep her from going completely wild and killing every Gardnerian she could get her hands on.”
“Go with Andras, Brendan,” Rafe says. “There’s no more time.” He looks to Andras and pauses, as if his throat is momentarily locked tight. “Be safe, my friend.”
Andras holds Rafe’s gaze. “You, as well. May we meet again in Noi lands.”
Andras and Brendan leave, and pain grips my chest as I watch them go. Wynter follows them out, catching my eye with her mournful gaze before she disappears from sight. Arie
l scoops up her chickens in both arms and gives me a conflicted look as she departs, her raven flapping out behind her.
Yvan pauses before me, a million unspoken things raging through his gaze. I reach out for him at the same time he reaches for me and we hold tight to each other’s hands.
“Keep them safe,” I say raggedly, his fire streaking through my lines. “And keep yourself safe, too.”
“I will,” he promises.
My fire lines clamor to hold on to him as he pulls away from me and walks out the door. I’m lost for a moment, overcome by a sense of vertigo and feeling as if the ground is unsteady beneath my feet. I draw in a long, shaky breath and go out to the hallway, rushing down its length to peer out the window.
My pulse ratchets higher.
Over a hundred Vu Trin sorceresses surround the North Tower. More are riding in by the minute, and behind them marches a contingent of Elfhollen archers in the pale gray uniforms of the Verpacian Guard.
And at the very far end of the field, a regiment of mounted Gardnerian soldiers has just reached the base of the long field and is paused there, as if calmly surveying the situation.
“Aislinn,” I gasp, and she looks to me, her eyes wide with fear. “They’re here,” I tell her. “The Gardnerians are here.” Her expression of terror gives way, her eyes suddenly blazing with reckless courage.
“Rafe!” I call out, quickly rushing into my lodging room. Once inside, I skid to a halt. Diana’s head is moving lazily back and forth as she lets out a low moan, Rafe’s hands tight around her arms.
“Rafe,” I say again. “The Gardnerians are here.”
Rafe’s gaze whips toward me. He opens his mouth to respond, but then Diana cries out and opens her eyes. Rafe turns back to her, and she stares at him quietly for a long moment.
Then she begins to scream.
“Oh, Diana,” Rafe says brokenly, trying to hold on to her as she twists and writhes in agony.
“My pack!” Diana screams. “They killed them! I’m going to kill them all!” Her voice breaks off into a long, tortured wail that shatters my heart. “My father! My mother! My sister! Oh, Kendra! Kendra!” She sobs uncontrollably. “We’re all alone! Jarod and I are all alone!”
Boot heels sound in the hall, and then Ni Vin appears at the door in full uniform, weapons strapped all over her body. “Everyone but the Lupines must leave,” she orders. “The Gardnerians are coming.”
Rafe takes Diana’s head firmly in both of his hands. “You’re not alone, Diana.”
“Yes, we are!” she cries, her eyes tightly shut.
“Diana, look at me!” Rafe says, his voice breaking. “You’re not alone. I love you. I love you. I’ll love you forever. Do you understand?”
She opens her eyes to look at him, violently sobbing as he holds on tight to her gaze.
“I know that right now you want to take them down,” Rafe says. “That you want to kill as many Gardnerian soldiers as you can before they cut you down. But I need you to live, Diana. And if you only live for one thing...live for me. Can you do that, Diana? Can you stay alive for me?”
“My people!” she wails.
“What would your father want you to do, Diana?”
“He’s dead!” she snarls.
“I know, love. But what would he want?”
Diana pauses for a moment, looking up at him. “He’d want me to live!” she cries.
“And your mother and your sister? And the rest of your pack?”
“They’d want me to live!”
“What would they do, Diana? What would your father do?”
She’s breathing hard, staring intently into Rafe’s eyes as if grabbing at a lifeline. “He’d wait,” she chokes out.
“And then what?”
“He’d wait and fool them.”
“What else?”
“He’d get out. Somehow, he’d get away.”
“And then?”
“He’d form a new pack. And once they were strong enough—” her face twists into a mask of hatred “—he’d come after them.”
Rafe’s hands grasp her shoulders. “That’s right, Diana. That’s what he’d do. And you’re his daughter. You’re strong, like him.” His voice breaks. “And I love you.”
“The Gardnerians are here,” Ni Vin says urgently. “You must leave. Now.” She turns, distracted by the sound of more boots thudding up the stairs.
Diana is sobbing, crying out like she’s mortally wounded. Rafe kisses the side of her face and clings to her, his expression wildly conflicted.
“Rafe,” I prod, panic mushrooming inside of me. “You need to go. Go find Jules and Lucretia and Fernyllia. Tell them what happened.” When he doesn’t move, I add, “They will arrest you. And the Gardnerians know what you and Diana are to each other, especially after what you did back in the dining hall. They’ll execute you for a traitor if you stay, and you won’t be able to help her if you’re dead.”
Rafe stills, then bends down to kiss Diana’s forehead. “You need to be strong,” he tells her, his voice distraught. “As much as you want to, don’t kill anyone...yet. Play the part of the docile prisoner and keep your mind on how much I love you. I will be back for you. Don’t forget that. No matter what happens, remember that I’ll be back for you.”
Rafe gets up and looks to me as Diana curls into a grief-racked ball.
“Go, Rafe,” I staunchly insist. “Go get the Resistance.”
Rafe hesitates, then nods, a storm of emotion in his eyes. He takes one last tortured look at Diana, then leaves.
CHAPTER SIX
BALANCE OF POWER
Moments after Rafe makes his departure, I hear a sharp, commanding voice outside my room.
“Who is that?” the voice demands as I rush to the doorway. Commander Vin is standing in the hallway with her sister, her penetrating gaze set on Aislinn. Four more Vu Trin sorceresses are gathered behind them.
“I’m Aislinn Greer,” Aislinn bites out, her hand tight around Jarod’s. “And I’m staying right here.”
Commander Vin looks to her sister, fury spiking in her eyes. “Please tell me that this is not the daughter of the Mage Council’s ambassador to the Lupines.”
Ni Vin shrugs helplessly, and Commander Vin lets out what can only be a string of curses in the Noi language.
“Shall we drag her out, Commander?” a spiky-haired sorceress asks.
Commander Vin looks around like she wants to kill something. “No, there’s no time.”
Boots sound on the stairs and a gray-skinned Elfhollen soldier rushes into the hall, the small white star markings of higher rank on his slate uniform, his bow and quiver attached to his back. I realize, with a rush of surprise, that this is the young Elfhollen soldier Lukas was friendly with at the border, when he brought me to Verpacia at the beginning of term.
“Kamitra,” he says to Commander Vin, his expression shaken to the core. “What are you doing?”
“We’re placing the Lupines under our protection, Orin,” she replies, hard as ice.
More boot heels sound, thudding up the stairs. Three more Elfhollen archers filter in behind Orin, looking stunned.
“They’ve wiped out both the Northern and Southern packs,” Orin says to Commander Vin, slightly breathless. “We just got word. They’re more powerful than we could have ever imagined, and they’re coming for the Ulrich twins. They’ve sent us ahead to retrieve them.”
“Well, they can’t have them,” Commander Vin counters. “And neither can you.” Her sharp gaze tightens on him. “We could use your help, Orin.”
Orin shakes his head, stark indecision in his widened eyes. “How can we possibly go up against them, Kamitra? We’re part of the Verpacian Guard.”
“Break with them.”
Her words vibrate on the air.
Orin’s eyes c
ast around, as if searching for a way out. The other Elfhollen soldiers seem to be holding their breath as they wait. “My family...I can’t...”
Commander Vin’s expression is unyielding. “Verpacia is going to fall to the Gardnerians. What kind of life will the Elfhollen have under Gardnerian rule, Orin? Both the Alfsigr and the Gardnerians revile you as half-breed Elves with Fae blood. How do you think your family will fare?”
She waits for this to sink in. “Join with us, Orin. We’ll give your families refuge if you fight with us. We will let the Elfhollen through the pass this very day and give them safe passage to Noi lands if all of your archers join with us.” She narrows her gaze. “Or do you expect the Alfsigr Elves will give you refuge?”
Orin’s expression shifts from fear to savage resolve. He turns to call out directives to the archers behind him in the Elfhollen language.
The Elfhollen nod, all of their eyes turning just as fierce. They hoist a young soldier up toward the trapdoor in the hallway’s ceiling. The young Elfhollen forces the hatch open and climbs through. A moment later, a tattered rope ladder rolls down to the floor. The other two Elfhollen archers climb up the ladder to the lookout tower above, Orin trailing behind.
“Commander Lachlan Grey is here, Commander Vin,” a new sorceress says as she pokes her head through the staircase door.
Commander Vin curses to herself. She turns and her eyes bore into me. “Stay here for now,” she orders, then follows the other sorceresses out.
I run to the window. There are now even more of the region’s Vu Trin ringing the tower, the Elfhollen interspersed among them, arrows set into bows, a steady trickle of new Elfhollen archers coming into the hallway and climbing the ladder to the roof. An additional twenty or so Vu Trin are in tight lines by the North Tower’s front door.
And facing them, a short distance away, is a sizable contingent of Gardnerian soldiers riding in, led by Lukas’s father, Lachlan Grey, High Commander of the Gardnerian forces. I search for any sign of Lukas, desperate to find one Gardnerian soldier I might have a chance of influencing. But Lukas is nowhere to be found.
Commander Grey dismounts from his horse and walks toward the tower. He’s bracketed by two men whose black garb bears the Mage Council seal—the golden M insignia on the shoulders of their cloaks. My stomach lurches as I recognize Aislinn’s father, Pascal Greer.
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