Page 106 of Obsidian Throne
My stomach twisted as I pictured each of their faces in turn before I pushed that fear away. It wouldn’t help me now.
Instead, I focused on the dense layer of clouds in the sky, willing gusts of wind to bring them closer to the ground over the enemy soldiers. Then I counted slowly to a hundred, waiting for my men to emerge from the covering of the trees.
Unleashing every ounce of my rage and hoping like hell I had practiced enough to get the placement right, I called down a bolt of lightning right in the middle of the Elk and Wolf soldiers.
A bright light stretched through the air before the sound of something breaking echoed through the battlefield.
Then the screaming started.
Men cried out as their fellow soldiers flew backward or forward or sideways into them. The smell of burnt hair and skin wafted through the air, bringing with it a cacophony of chaos.
My knees threatened to give out beneath me, between moving the vast amounts of fog and the raw energy needed for the lightning. I took several slow, even breaths, recovering myself.
That was the only bolt I would be able to direct without passing out, but it had served its primary purpose. The men were scattered, injured, and distracted.
And that’s when my army attacked. It was an impressive sight to behold.
Arrows rained down in wave after wave, felling enemy soldiers one by one. It was a drop in the bucket, for now, but this was only the beginning.
While the opposing troops were still confused about an attack coming from the wrong direction, still lost in the layer of fog so dense they couldn’t see through it, my men were already at their backs.
Every part of me begged to join them, but I wasn’t quite finished here. The fog needed to go now that they were in the immediate fray. Using the smallest gusts I could, I lifted the mist enough for my men to be able to discern friend from foe.
Confused orders were called out, and it took the Elk and Wolf soldiers too long to register that they were being attacked from behind. Which is exactly what we needed.
Or more to the point, what Evander needed. Assuming he was the one in charge of this battle, I knew he would take advantage of this opening to turn the tides from his side.
Once I found my bearings again and my hands stopped shaking, I drew my sabers and finally joined them in battle.
I lost myself in ducking and whirling and lashing out with both blades. For all that Rayan’s skill had been impressive with the first sword he made me, these were something else entirely.
They were lighter than air, perfectly balanced, functioning like extensions of my arms. They cut through the enemy soldiers like a hot knife through butter.
The obsidian scales on my armor seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it, so I moved about like a wraith on the battlefield, slashing and fighting my way to the castle.
To Evander.
If he was still alive…
Panic gripped my insides, but I harnessed it, using it to fuel the adrenaline that was the only thing keeping me going.
He had to be alive. I would feel it if he had died. I would know, somehow.
A sword glanced off my torso with a bruising impact but didn’t penetrate my armor. I brought my left blade up to fend off that attack, simultaneously whirling my right one to the side.
When the man in wolf colors caught a glimpse of my long red braid, it was enough to distract him so that I could run my saber through the tender skin at his neck.
He gasped in surprise before falling to his knees with cold, unblinking eyes.
I left him to fight the next man and the next and the next until my armor was stained nearly as scarlet as my curls, sticky and coated with other people’s blood.
Still, I didn’t falter. I couldn’t.
Hours passed, enough time for the sun to peek over the mountains and bathe the crimson field in a golden, gory glow. And what it revealed was...impossible.
We were winning.
Bear’s forces had been able to advance while we kept the soldiers distracted from the other side.