I jerk back as Eve leaps into movement, building into a charge in seconds. The deafening clamor of hooves fills my ears as, like one enormous creature, our army storms forward.
Wren’s hair streams as she urges Eve on, keeping her level with her father’s white mare. I can hardly breathe for the force of the wind, the stunning pace at which we ride.
There’s the first flash of lighting, sapphire-white behind the ceiling of smoke, and in the afterglow I make out the winged silhouettes of Merrin and Samira.
“Bird demons!” Merrin shouts.
Ketai flings his arm high. “WATCH THE AIR!”
They drop from the clouds they’ve been using for cover with the next burst of lightning, a rush of speeding winged figures.
The White Wing have swollen the Tsume’s ranks. There are two hundred, maybe even three hundred birds headed straight for us.
Wren draws a sword. It reflects the lightning—as a volley of flaming arrows rains down from the approaching birds.
“HEADS!” Ketai yells.
Wren flings an arm around, yanking me down. Air whirrs as she spins the sword over our heads, deflecting the arrows. Others aren’t so lucky. There are shrieks of pain. Stumbling hooves as falling soldiers trip up those behind them.
I straighten as Wren lets go, my blood surging as I take in the sight of the bird demons, so close now I can see the colors of their plumage, the metal beak coverings and talon razors strapped to some—and the stone slabs others haul between them.
Merrin and Samira fly at their center, causing their tight formation to split.
Ketai punches his arm high. “ARROWS!”
From behind us, a hundred arrows hurtle into the air. There are yells. Grunts. Winged figures tumble from the sky.
A chunk of rock crashes down with one of them, right in our path. Eve leaps it. We land with a judder, only to swerve as two birds pitch another slab our way.
“SPLIT!” Ketai commands.
The world turns neon white, lightning illuminating the bird demons—just as they set upon us.
The plains resound with cries and screams, the shrill clash of metal as fighting erupts. Thuds punctuate everything as the heavy rocks slam down.
Wren draws in line with her father. Behind him, Kenzo is hunched over the neck of his bear. An arrow juts from his left shoulder. He cracks it in half and tosses the feathered end away as simply as if he were brushing off a fly.
“Father!” Wren shouts. “The wall, are we still—”
She cuts off as a feathered figure wheels toward us. Wren has her sword ready, but an arrow cuts the bird down before he reaches us: Khuen.
There’s a sickening crunch as Eve’s hooves trample the fallen demon.
We’re nearing the Bamboo Forest now. A wall of towering flames rises like a tsunami of fire. The heat lashes out, sticks my thin clothes to me with sweat.
“SHAMANS!” Ketai shouts. “PREPARE YOURSELVES!”
Keeping my arms firmly around Wren’s waist, I risk a glance over my shoulder. Behind us, the shamans—three rows deep—each mimic the same position, holding on to the reins of their horses with one hand, the other thrown forward, palm open. Their lips move, forming words I can’t make out over the burr of the flames and the crush of hooves, gold characters already spinning from their lips. The magic travels down, circling their outstretched arms to the tips of their fingers.
I spin back around. We’re meters from the inferno.
The heat is unbearable, searing the air and sucking the breath from my lungs. The flames writhe high, coiled with ribbons of smoke, the bitter taste filling my mouth.
I bury my face in Wren’s back; brace for the burn—
“SHAMANS!” comes Ketai’s bellow. “NOW!”
There’s an astonishing blast of wind and light.
And the heat explodes.
My first thought is that we’re in the forest, and we’re being scorched alive. Even with my eyes clenched, face pressed to Wren’s back, the light is so bright it sears my eyes. Electric waves race over my skin. The howl and the heat and the buzz of magic builds into a formidable mix, until, just when I think I’m going to suffocate from the force of it, there’s a sudden rush of air—
And it all falls away.
I lift my head and open my streaming eyes.
I once saw shamans put out a fire with a dao that transformed into water. This enchantment used air.
As Eve slaloms through the blackened husks of trees, the immense wall of air the shamans unleashed charges ahead in an all-consuming wave. Row upon row of blazing trees are snuffed out in an instant. The smoke is dispersed, too, pushed up to where it coils overhead in black clouds. And as the air in front of us clears, the walls of the palace come into view.
I’m cast back in time to the first moment I saw the palace. The way the curtain of ivory-green bamboo drew apart to reveal towering walls, golden characters swirling within the marbled stone. The might of the magical vibration coming off them. The demon guards flanking the perimeter and patrolling the parapet, each so terrifying I’d understood why the King felt invincible within these walls.
Almost a year since, and I’ve proved—we’ve proved, me and Wren and all the others—just how wrong he was to ever believe he was safe.
I look up at the walls and think of the King hiding behind them, and a satisfied smile twists my lips. Because I know this time, he does not feel invincible.
He knows we are coming for him.
And he knows exactly what we’re capable of.
Ketai swings his horse close. The shamans’ magic reaches the last of the flames, extinguishing them in a final billow of air before slamming into the walls of the palace themselves. The banners lining the parapet are ripped from their poles. They swirl through the ember-flecked wind, a cascade of red and obsidian.
The shouts of the royal soldiers are discernible now. There are demons everywhere: on top of the wall, before it, birds from the Tsume and the White Wing still swooping low over our charging ranks, their number cut in half but still too many.
Straight ahead, the main gates are blocked by a contingent of heavily armed soldiers. They’re reassembling after the shamans’ wind knocked many off their feet. To each side of the gate stand stone pecalang, the pair of guardian statues carved into the likeness of bulls. They are gigantic at over twenty feet tall. The braziers in their hooflike hands are still lit, unaffected by the enchanted air; like the walls, they must be protected by the royal shamans.
“Wren!” Ketai yells. “At some point they’ll be forced to open the gates—make your move then!” He addresses me. “Stay close to her!”
It sounds so innocent, as if he’s telling me for my own protection. But we both know what he means.
“Lei!” Wren draws her second sword. “Get your knife. When we reach the soldiers, we jump!”
I let go of her waist with one hand and fumble for my dagger. Its bronze blade flashes in the stormlight. For the briefest moment, my eyes are reflected in it, and I catch a glimpse of the thing that has brought me so much wonder and pain for what will be the last time.