First one speck sped over a crest and down toward the battlefield, then another. Suddenly, there were hundreds of horsemen thundering down the hills, galloping with savage speed. Each horse bore two riders, one in black and yellow, another in red, the color of flame.
The riders drew up to a shuddering halt just outside the battlefield, where the revenant horde surrounded the circle of defenders. Petryan elementalists leapt off horseback and formed a long line, hundreds of them.
Even through the haze of the battle, Amber saw the cuffs at their wrists light up with fire as they linked their power in a way she’d never known was possible.
Bright light traveled from one elementalist to the next, darting from wrist to wrist, and then the elementalists lifted their arms.
A wall of flame rose up, spreading to fill the air along the length of the elementalists. The wall rolled forward, and through the conflagration Amber saw the elementalists step forward in unison, moving the wall ahead of them, sending it speeding ahead like the detonation wave that rushes from a huge explosion.
The wave rolled over the revenants in a fury of heat and flame, and Amber turned her head away from the sight.
From the other direction came the thunder of hooves.
The Hazarans smashed into the enemy, horses crushing revenants beneath their hooves and warriors slashing scimitars into sinew and bone. A revenant ran straight onto Amber’s sword. The hilt fell from her limp fingers, and then suddenly the wave of heat reached the defenders.
Men whose spirits had been crushed suddenly had no choice. There was only one direction they could go: away from the flames.
It was a rout and a charge all at the same time. The soldiers fleeing the flames rushed into the mass of the enemy, and the strength of their momentum met the relentless force of the horses, crushing the revenants in the middle like a block of iron between a hammer and anvil.
Even as she was carried with the soldiers, Amber felt a breeze on her cheeks, and then the wind picked up pace until it was a gale. The wind tore through the battlefield, blowing away the cloud of dust in one great sweep.
There were suddenly Tingarans everywhere.
“The Legion!” Amber heard the cry. The soldiers who’d fought in the dust to keep the helpless citizens from the enemy had finally broken free of the cloud. Now thousands of huge men with heavy armor and shaved heads fought among them. There was no order to it; everyone was all mixed in together, but for once their numbers were far greater than their opponents.
Amber was carried up in the frenzy, unable to break free. As she was pushed, she desperately searched for Miro.
In the distance she saw Dain Barden, gasping and panting as he sat on the ground. At his feet was the broken corpse of a gray-robed necromancer. The Dain of the Akari didn’t look like he was going anywhere anytime soon.
Finally, Amber found him.
Miro was kneeling by a body. From his armorsilk the fallen man was a bladesinger, and his skin was white as snow, drained of all color, the blood that had once filled his veins pooling around him.
Amber saw Miro also had a wound on his chest, but he appeared unaware of the blood running down his armorsilk in rivulets.
“Miro,” Amber cried as she ran to his side.
He looked up at her with haunted eyes. Amber put her hand to her mouth.
The fallen man was Rogan Jarvish. His eyes were closed, as if he were sleeping.
Together, Amber and Miro struggled to stanch his terrible wounds.
64
Ella floated in an empty void. Her consciousness was somewhere far from her body, tossed in eddies and currents like a leaf in the wind. She could barely recognize her thoughts for what they were, each disappearing before it could be properly formed.
She remembered a cavern and a fight to the death against a creature of pure evil. Just when she’d thought she’d achieved victory, the cavern had vanished, and now she was here.
She was dimly aware of voices, and she heard her name. One of the voices, a strong, masculine voice, was familiar.
Killian?
Ella tried to say his name, but then the wind came up, and she was suddenly far away again.
She fought to come back to the place where there was thought. The swirling gusts tore at her every time she tried to press forward, and try as she might, she couldn’t return.
Ella drifted for a time.
Then with force, more sounds came to her. Shouts and explosions, and a colossal fall, the sound of a mountain crashing down.
And then Ella’s thoughts shattered like pieces of glass, tumbling away with her fear. She saw a radiant light and fled to it, and with a soft sigh she once more felt peace and harmony settle over her awareness, but she’d felt this sensation before and she fought it as much as she’d fought her fear. She struggled as the ethereal wind picked up pace, tearing at the last glimmers of knowledge about who she was.
Ella tried to cry out, but her voice was taken from her, along with her ability to think.