Rise of the Seven (19 page)

“
Push back,” I yelled,
releasing only a portion of the strike I had planned to unleash. As
soon as the wave fell back into a flood, I searched the line for
Camren, but it was too late. Her body lay crumpled on the ground.
She’d given her last breath for this retaliation. Two villagers
moved to kneel beside her and I looked back just in time to see the
water wash back over the temple floor, flushing at least a handful
of council members with it as it crossed between the columns and
out of the structure.

We surged forward then, taking the last of
those council members to leave only thirty remaining above. The
leaders of Grand Council.

“
Dratva Sprego Drangia
Rema.”

The words fell from the balcony, heavy with a
vow of devastation, and I looked up to find their source. It was
Elden of Longarten, the man who’d set fire to the gates of the
castle during the massacre. They’d not wanted anyone to escape.
They’d wanted all of us to burn.

Like my mother.

As the spell took hold of the others, fury
spread through my veins like that fire so long ago. Hot, burning
anger devoured every part of me until it seemed to burst, snapping
any connection I had to calm, rational thought. If the ground shook
again, I did not feel it. If the spell attempted to harm me, I did
not know. The only thing there was, was rage.

I stared into the eyes of my mother’s killers
as the stone cracked and split.

I saw Nyle, who had drowned the young sentry
in his own blood.

I saw Sandon, who had slowly choked the
serving girls with bay vine while chaos reigned around them.

I saw Fawn, who had opened the chests of the
watchmen, a smile playing at the corner of her honey-rose lips as
their insides spilled onto the castle floor.

I watched as the balcony gave way.

I watched as they fell with the floor beneath
them.

A cloud of dust rose as the heart of the
temple crumbled onto the floor in front of us. Lightning flashed
and thunder boomed, the wind whipped as though a hurricane centered
among the columns. Fire and screams tore through the air in a
battle so reminiscent of the massacre, my chest hurt. But the
knowledge of this final revenge didn’t ease the pain. Even as I
watched those who were guilty take their dying breaths, the ache
only grew.

Body after body fell. What remained of the
fourth line advanced, and we surrounded the last of the council
leaders. A flash of light shot out, so intense it brought me from
the trance of anger that had destroyed the temple. I was moving but
Rider was faster. He threw himself forward to let loose an
explosion of power so violent it seemed to burn my skin.

Wincing against the flare, I turned back to
see it strike its target and issued an attack of my own. They were
few now, but they were strong. I felt twin blows punch my chest but
pushed them back before they could tear me apart. Anvil stepped in
front of me just in time to catch a third, and I felt a jolt as it
collided with his shoulder.

Chevelle moved forward then, as we all
advanced on them, and deflected two more before Rhys and Rider
moved to the front. Their skill was incredible as they pooled their
energy to defend and attack. I shifted to throw another strike, but
faltered when Ruby fell beside me.

I had to force myself not to reach for her,
but I had seen. Her red curls had slipped loose of their binding
and dropped flat, lifeless, onto the temple floor, now muddy with
dust and blood, as she’d collapsed. I could not reach for her. I
had to keep fighting.

My feet were frozen, afraid to so much as
disturb what lay beneath me as my eyes fell again on the enemy. The
ache in my chest had intensified, risen to choke me. I could not
bear to think of the possibilities, could only attempt to channel
the hurt and anger.

I swayed, the power roiling through me,
searching for escape, and the others turned, as if sensing the
change.

Energy cracked through me and I nearly lost
the capacity for control. I felt myself begin to lurch forward, but
somehow held fast, just long enough to discharge the shattering
force. Eyes narrowed, willing myself to focus, I watched as
something inside them seemed to burst.

There were no more. They had all fallen.

The realization found me keeled over, braced
against my wavering knees. For one long moment, my eyes were
closed. For that moment, I felt as if my world might fragment, as
if my being might dissolve.

As if my insides might find their way
out.

I managed a shallow breath against my tight
chest and let it out without gagging. I opened my eyes to find Ruby
staring up at me from the ground at my feet.

“
Huh,” she
coughed.

I didn’t know if the sound was impressed or
stunned, but I choked out something like a laugh as I fell to my
knees with relief.

Chapter Twenty-two

Summoning

I watched numbly as Grey carried Ruby away.
They’d assured me she wasn’t terribly hurt, but it was obvious she
wasn’t terribly okay either. Blood had smeared her face and shallow
breaths had seemed to wheeze out of her.

My hands were still wet from lifting her
matted curls from the muddy floor. There would be blood on them.
Not hers. The lifeblood of the men and women of Camber.

I started when something brushed my arm, but
quickly relaxed when the warmth of a familiar hand settled onto the
small of my back. I gave Ruby one more moment before turning my
gaze to Chevelle beside me.

His deep blue eyes were intense, questioning
and comforting at the same time. We had done it, we had crushed
this one obstacle. We had avenged my mother, the north. But it had
cost us. I stared back at him, hoping to convey my answers, to
offer him some comfort in return, and he reached up to place his
palm against my cheek. I closed my eyes, breathed deep for the
first time since the battle, and felt the last of the trembling in
my limbs subside.

When I opened my eyes again, Chevelle slid
his hand free, covertly brushing the damp from my cheek, and we
turned to survey the damage.

River Temple lay in ruin. Half of the columns
were rubble. The rest were covered in ivies as the council members
had tried to elevate themselves above the flood waters. Patches of
floor had dried from the winds, dust and blood leaving rust-colored
stains. In a matter of weeks, the damage would look centuries
old.

Several men were climbing over the remains of
the balcony where it lay on the ground, searching the dead. I
didn’t need to check, their faces were seared into my memory. What
I was concerned about, however, was our men. From our position at
the front of the line, we hadn’t been able to see who’d been
injured.

I scanned the area, surprised to find that
most of the wounded were already being tended. A few of the Camber
warriors were limping or bloodied, but the majority of them
appeared well. They had taken their place among the front, but
council had targeted the townspeople anyway. I tried not to count
as I watched them being carried away, but I couldn’t help it.
Fourteen dead.

And Camren among them.

We approached the marble tablet where Bayrd
and Emeline were cleaning up the injured.

Bayrd looked up from his work. “Lord Freya.”
He dipped his head respectfully, causing his patient to flinch as
he pulled against the stitches. He smirked before deference fell
back in place to address Chevelle. “Excellent battle.”

I glanced at Chevelle, but he didn’t seem as
surprised as I was to find them in such good spirits.

The large, leather-clad elf beside him called
out as Emeline set his shoulder back in place. “There you are, good
as new,” she promised. He didn’t appear to believe her, but he
stood, shrugged his shoulders twice, and dipped his head toward
Chevelle and me before leaving.

Emeline turned to us. “That about finishes
things up here.” She glanced toward the clearing the warriors had
made. “Except for the ceremony.”

Bayrd tightened his last stitch.

“
I’d like a messenger to
notify the villagers. Some of them will have family here,” I
said.

Emeline nodded. “Merek will go. He’s a fast
rider.” She eyed the afternoon sky. “Likely he could make the
rounds before dawn.”

“
Thank you,” I
said.

She smiled. “Lord Freya.”

Emeline brushed past me, and by the time I’d
turned around, Merek was mounted and kicking a slender black
stallion up to running.

All evidently taken care of, we went to find
Ruby.

The task was easier than expected, because we
could hear her fighting with Grey before we took the first step
into the forest.

“
I
said
I was fine,” she argued in a
raspy voice. The declaration was punctuated by the sound of her
slapping his ministrations away.

There was a sharp gasp as he ignored her
assertions and pressed against a wound. And then a low curse from
Grey as she retaliated.

We came through the trees to find Anvil
sitting on a stump laughing while a grim-faced Steed attempted to
hold her still.

“
Touch me one more time,”
she warned the both of them, “and you will pay.”

Grey held out a finger, considering, and she
narrowed her gaze on him. Steed’s mouth screwed up as he waited,
clearly reassessing his position.

“
Ruby,” I cut in, “are you
well?”

She shrugged Steed’s hands free. “Yes.
Quite.”

I felt my chest ease a bit, though she still
looked a little pale. I glanced at Grey who, while annoyed, no
longer seemed fearful.

“
Great,” I said. “Clean
yourself up. We’ve got a ceremony to attend.”

She smiled sincerely at being discharged, and
then smirked at Steed before turning an eyebrow up at Grey, daring
him to challenge her.

Anvil laughed again.

The ceremony was completed as the sun fell
beneath the horizon. We stood in full dress as the flames licked
the air and trailed smoke into the twilight sky. The others would
see it. The families of the council members would know we had lost
as well. But there would be nothing left but ash.

As I watched the fire dance, I could not help
but think of my mother. She had burned with no honor. But I could
lay her to rest now. When the blaze subsided, I could let this go.
This battle was over. The fire that had haunted me for so long
would be gone.

I closed my eyes and breathed deep, letting
the sharp scent of night flowers on the wind cut through the last
of the acrid smoke. But it was only the briefest reprieve, because
when I opened them again, I saw a warning flicker among the
trees.

I felt my jaw tighten, but held fast. It
would wait. We would see the ceremony through.

As the final ember darkened, I looked to my
guard. They were still, somber, and had apparently not noticed our
audience.

I waited until the first shifting boot
sounded before directing Steed to ready the horses. He moved to do
so without reservation, but I saw the question on the others’
faces.

“
We will not ride back to
Camber,” I answered. I glanced to the trees, searching for sign of
any remaining fey. “There isn’t time.”

The townspeople were preparing for their own
return, but I was certain they would make it to Camber safely. It
was only a scout. A warning.

“
Are you sure?” Ruby asked,
inspecting them skeptically as they packed their weapons and
armor.

I wasn’t sure.

“
They are loyal,” Rhys said.
“With this, you have won their trust.”

Anvil shifted, still favoring his injured
shoulder. “Aye. You have them.”

I nodded, watching a limping Bayrd climb onto
his horse. I could only hope they were right. But it didn’t matter.
“We have no other choice.”

“
Where do we ride, then?”
Anvil asked.

I sighed heavily before answering.
“Junnie.”

There was no doubt they were concerned by my
words, but the set of my shoulders, the way my eyes scanned the
trees, made it clear now was not the time to discuss it.

“
I will inform the others,”
Chevelle said, heading toward Emeline and her husband.

“
Shall we gather the
scrolls?” Ruby asked.

“
No, leave those for the
villagers,” I said. “They are of no use to anyone now.”

She glanced around, at a loss, and dropped
her arms to swing loosely at her sides.

I forced a smile. “You fought well,
Ruby.”

She was caught off guard, her expression fell
blank. “Did I?”

I nodded, and then cuffed her on the back.
“Next time try to take no more than your share.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Anvil’s
mouth tweak up in amusement.

Steed rode up then, mounted on a fine black
stallion, and tilted his head toward the waiting group of horses.
“They are fresh, ready for whatever you’ve got planned.”

I resisted the urge to sigh again. “Thank
you,” I said, glancing over my shoulder for Chevelle.

“
Here,” he said from beside
me and I noticed he was carrying a large satchel over his shoulder.
He saw me looking. “The townspeople wish you well and have sent
provisions so that we may travel speedily.”

My eyes narrowed on him. How would they know
what we needed? But he only shrugged.

Steed called the horses to us, and as I swung
onto my own, several of the townspeople bowed their respect. Among
them, one form stood out.

Cold dark eyes met mine before a gloved hand
raised in a gesture that vowed success. It was Camren’s son.