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.