Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 65: God-Slayer

Anna sprinted across the battlefield.

Everything was the sick crunch of bone, the smell of metal and burnt flesh. Anna carved a path towards the hill. Every blow sent impact shuddering up her arm. Everything felt so much godsdamn harder today. She was running on empty: no sleep, no food, no hope.

Still, Anna ran.

A faerie prince charged by, laughing as he dragged a struggling dayweaver behind his horse. Anna faltered but didn't stop. She was aware of Ryne and Sophie running beside her, their breaths coming in harsh gasps. There was no time.

The hill.

She had to reach the hill.

"There!" Sophie called.

Anna looked up.

She caught a glimpse of a woman standing on top of the hill. She was dressed in a flowing white gown, her hair rippling down like golden sunlight. Her grip on the sword tightened. That was Lucia; it had to be. Nobody else would be arrogant or stupid enough to show up to a battlefield without armour.

Sophie shielded her eyes. "She's alone."

"No," Ryne said grimly. "She's not."

Lucia raised a hand. Golden magic tumbled from her fingers, twisting into snarling shapes. A dozen sunhounds streaked down the hill, spraying drool and chunks of grass. Anna wiped a hand across her sweaty forehead.

"Shit," Anna muttered.

Sophie's eyes were dark. "Can you...?"

Anna half-closed her eyes, reaching for her magic. There was a puddle at the bottom of the well, but not much else. Certainly not enough for anything useful. "Not yet. I need another twenty minutes."

Sophie raised her sword. "Guess we're doing this the old-fashioned way, then."

"Go." Ryne's eyes were fixed ahead. "Take Sophie with you."

Anna shook her head. "There's too many. You'll be overwhelmed." She didn't say the next part: And they'll kill you.

Ryne dropped into a fighting stance. "And Lucia can create more. What's more important?" His green eyes met hers. "Applying ointment to boils or cutting out the sickness?"

Anna sighed. She hated when he was right. "Damn you."

She hesitated — just for a moment — and Ryne's shoulders softened. He caught her arm, his hands blazing through her fighting leathers.

"For what it's worth," Ryne murmured, "I meant what I said yesterday. Annoying as you are, Cidarius, I can't imagine a life without you. We might as well spend eternity together." He released her. "Think about it."

He tore across the battlefield, slicing through sunhounds with brutal efficiency. Anna palmed her knife. Her head was throbbing, but she forced herself to run, breathing through the pain that jackknifed through her. Sophie matched her step-for-step.

Sophie's blade caught the sunlight. "What did Delafort mean?" She wiped blood from her eyes. "About spending eternity together?"

Anna jumped as a sunhound snapped at her ankles. "It's not important." She thrust a knife into the hound's side, avoiding Sophie's gaze. "Come on. We have to move quickly."

They tore up the hill. Cannon fire rained down on them, and Anna dodged instinctively, zig-zagging to make it more difficult for them to hit her. An arrow whizzed by, close enough to stir the hairs on her neck. She forced herself to move faster. Smarter.