Shield of Sparrows

My boot squelched in a puddle of blood.

There were too many to avoid. They soaked the ground as if they’d come from a heavy rain.

The stench of gore and death clung to the air. I walked through the rows and rows and rows of bodies in the courtyard, counting each as I passed. The number would never be accurate. Men, women, children. So many had met gruesome fates that it would be impossible to fit pieces together.

To make wholes from halves.noveldrama

Cathlin stood at the end of the last row, staring at the body stretched on the ground awaiting a grave.

My mother’s body.

A sheet covered most of her form, but I knew the skirts of her dress. The heels of her boots. They’d been my gift to her last year at the equinox.

Pain and grief swelled so fast they choked, but I swallowed the emotions down, pushing them deep where they could fester and grow. Where they would live to fuel my rage.

The fires that had broken out during the attack had finally stopped burning. A few buildings were nothing but cinders and ash. After the crux had died, the survivors in Ellder had managed to snuff out the flames.

The walls were still standing, but the gates leaned on each other like two pieces of straw, ready to collapse at the first strong breeze.

At some point while I’d been knocked out, my father and his surviving soldiers had left through those gates. The bastard. I’d deal with him later.

Cathlin wiped at her cheeks, at the endless tears. Her hair hung limp around her shoulders, and the hem of her dress was soaked red.

I stopped at her side and took her hand, staring down at my mother’s boots.

There was a good chance that another body would join these rows. Maybe two.

Halston was fighting for his life in the infirmary.

So was Zavier.

A healer, Geezala, had found Zavier’s body last night. She’d heard a whistle she’d learned from her time as a healer in Treow. She’d warned me to prepare for the worst. That no man could likely survive such a wound.

When Tillia had overheard, she’d told Geezala to fuck off and save Zavier’s life.

By sheer, stubborn will, Tillia would see that Halston survived his injury. And she’d see to it that Zavier lived to witness another dawn.

The circlet that normally kissed his brow was tucked away in my vest.

He’d sacrificed enough for Turah. For me.

If Zavier—Dray—lived, then it was time for his life to be his own.

No more pretending.

I pressed a kiss to Cathlin’s temple, squeezing her hand, then stepped past my mother’s body and walked to the one corpse that rested alone.

In the center of the courtyard, a woman’s naked body rested in a pool of blood.

I crouched beside the figure, surveying it from head to toe for the tenth time.

Was this real? Or were my eyes playing a trick on me? Had the crash addled my mind and memory?

After Odessa had fled to the dungeon with Evie, the crux had plucked me off the ground and carried me into the sky. Probably to drop me from some unfathomable height. But the bitch hadn’t counted on my rage.

I’d driven my sword into her chest, straight into her heart. And then we’d fallen from the shades.

The monster had taken the brunt of the impact, but I’d been thrown hard enough that when I woke, the faint rays of morning were kissing the horizon.

There should have been a monster’s lifeless body in the courtyard. There should have been a winged beast with my sword in its chest.

Instead, I’d pulled my sword from this woman’s body.

A woman with red hair, the spiraling curls a mix of orange and strawberry and copper.

Odessa’s hair.

I unsheathed a knife from my belt and sheared off a lock. Then I tucked it into my vest beside Zavier’s circlet.

My circlet.

I stood, taking one last look at the woman. The crux.

“Have you seen or heard of this before?” I asked Cathlin as she appeared at my side.

“No,” she said. “Any crux killed was just a monster. What do you think this means?”

“I don’t know.” But I intended to fucking find out.

I stepped over the woman’s body, looking to the soldier standing guard. “Burn it.”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded as I strode past him for the gates.

“Where are you going?” Cathlin called.

I kept walking.

“To find my wife.”