Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 200096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1000(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 667(@300wpm)
Once inside the tower, I slip the mask on and then hurry up the uneven, steep stairs that remind me of Cirilea’s gray prison tower, except this one is even higher. But fear and adrenaline drown out the burn in my thighs.
When I reach the top, I find six Saur’goths dead on the floor, and the one I assume is the leader is toppled over a table.
All have arrows through their eyes.
The top of the tower is as Lord Telor described it—a circular room with two bridges connecting each side to the ramparts. The one on the right is no longer intact, crumbled after Caindra’s attack. I can see the entire city from here, including frightened faces that peek from the windows. There are still people hiding within.
From the corner of my eyes, a flitter of black moves. A Shadow, perched on a nearby roof, their arrow aimed at me.
I hold up my hands in surrender before slipping off my mask, my pulse racing.
They quickly find another target and fire below, hitting their mark with deadly accuracy. Is it their affinity or their immaculate skill? I would love to learn how to do that. But for now, I will simply appreciate it.
There are more Shadows stationed around the city, like dark blurs on the clay tile roofs, picking off Saur’goths below. The ramparts are littered with dead bodies, hunched where they fell, the ballistae unmanned. They’ve cleared the way for us just as Solange promised they would—without raising a single alarm—and no one below has any clue.
I blast a white light up into the sky, as high as it will go. Now for Elisaf to get that gate open.
Islorians and Saur’goths clash below, the Islorians outnumbered three to one. But Abarrane and Jarek join the fray, two blades each, spinning and lunging with impossible speed that the Saur’goths can’t match as they cut a vicious path toward the huddle of women and children in the center. There must be at least a hundred of them, some lying face down and still, many with torn clothing.
My rage foams, looking for revenge.
A rush of Saur’goths charge in from an alley on the left, heading toward the square. That is where I center my anger now, scattering them with bolts of fire.
The two Shadows hovering directly above finish the attack for me. The entire group erupts in a ball of flame, their screams distracting the others, making it easier for our people to cut them down.
I pick off the enemy one by one with icicle daggers aimed at their throats, clearing space closest to the tower’s entrance while some of Adar’s men usher the mortals to relative safety.
Footfalls pounding up the steps distract me. I spin around, ready to shield myself from an attack. But it’s Zander, smears of blood on his cheek and splatters over his clothes. None that is his, from what I can see. “They are moving the people into the tunnels, and Jarek holds the tower. How is it up here?”
“It’s working, but there are still so many of them.” I can hear them around the buildings, in alleyways, shouting, their blades clashing.
“They will be outnumbered shortly. I saw your signal.” He leaps over the beast bodies to join me, his eyes raking over the empty rampart first, then to the gate ahead, crawling open, and beyond.
“Can you see Telor and the others?” All I see is darkness.
A smile curls his lips. He must be so happy to see this plan fall into place “Yes, they are in position. I think it’s time you call in our winged friends.”
I step out onto the intact bridgeway. “Caindra!” I call out, knowing that, by some design I can’t understand, she will hear me.
Twenty seconds later, a chorus of earsplitting screeches reverberates through the night sky and three dark forms soar toward us from behind the mountain ridge.
I remember the first time I saw that wingspan above, how terrified I was. Now, I am in awe.
My ears catch the sound of horse hooves pounding on hard ground a moment before Telor’s cavalry rushes through the open gate. The Shadows ride in front, forming shields that bulldoze the waiting Saur’goths. They fan out as planned, driving the enemy back toward the square.
“Look!” I point to a dozen who have made their way back up to the rampart from a set of stairs and are charging toward the ballistae.
Zander draws a second sword and moves for the bridge, but stalls as a Shadow materializes from seemingly nowhere. Their eyes glow as they swing their arms out and bring them back together with a clap. Half the Saur’goths lose their balance and tumble over the edge to their deaths.
“They used the air,” I marvel.
Zander shakes his head. “I am so happy we have them as allies.”