The last chapter of Sea and Smoke. Thank you all for coming along on the ride. A battle, a reunion, and a third book that comes out next week. Enjoy!
Chapter 25 - Fiyr
"For Thundria!"
Sir Cawle's battle cry seems to rock the earth as it's taken up by the entire patrol. United by a common enemy, I open my mouth and join in with a yell. It works to wake up the edges of my limbs that had fallen asleep on the ride to the castle.
I unsheathe Fireheart as the rest of the patrol and I pour down the slope and into the battle. In the moonlight, I catch a glimpse of Sir Strommer's white hair as it disappears into the throng of knights on the other side of the castle.
My sword quickly finds a target in a young man whose trace says Rivien. His dark hair and deep-toned skin conceal him mostly in the darkness but I'm fighting with one foot in the Trace anyway so it's not hard to pinpoint his location despite the half-invisibility. I have an advantage atop Blitz, though I know I'll need to send her out of the battle soon to avoid losing her forever.
"This isn't your fight," I hear him call to me as our swords meet and bounce away with a resounding metallic clang. "Stay out of Rivien business!"
"You made it our fight when you attacked an innocent kingdom!" I shout back and summon all the heat inside me that the winter night hasn't sucked out already. Flame blossoms in the air with a fwoosh! and my assailant's face is illuminated. He's got something of a smirk on his face until he realizes where the fire's coming from. I send the flame barrelling into his face and though he dodges away, his smirk doesn't reappear and neither does he.
I decide tracking him down again isn't worth it and take the opportunity to swing myself off of Blitz and give her a firm strike on the flank to send the horse out of the combat. Just before I can return to the Trace to locate another target, I hear a very not-human growl behind me.
Oh, shit shit shit. I don't even need to slip into the fifth dimension to know what produced that. "Leaparra."
"Lady Fore, to you," she rumbles, her voice suspiciously similar in tone to the growl of her life-forced-summoned leopard.
I turn and summon a flame in my hand to illuminate my vicinity and see the captain of the Rivien guard rendered nightmarish in the flickering light, with her hand resting on the head of a snarling leopard. He looks angry.
"Get him, Peaches," she growls, then whips out Leopardfur and launches herself at me.
My sword's up in an instant, muscle memory taking over in place of my brain's reflexes, blocking her strike and sending it glancing off my shoulder. I throw myself to the side as 'Peaches' leaps at me. Come on, couldn't he have a more dignified name? Will the history books really have to say, 'Sir Fiyr Harte of Thundria, torn to death by Peaches'? Why couldn't it be Ripper? Bloodtooth. Murdercat. Anything else?
Leaparra is swinging for me again and I throw up my sword but her strike is too strong and it's all I can do to keep my grip on Fireheart as our swords meet with a clash that makes my teeth rattle. But I've barely recovered when something collides with my right side, sending me sprawling to the ground. I land hard on my left wrist and cry out. A set of jaws clamps around my right forearm and a chill of fear surges through me when I feel the hot breath of the leopard through my leather armour. It hasn't made it to skin yet, but I can feel the pressure increasing by the second and a shout of pain escapes me. My arm is about to snap, I can feel the teeth in my skin—
My eyes meet a pair of glittering amber eyes in the moonlight. Implausibly, I instantly know who it is. Sir Cawle is going to watch me be torn apart by the captain of the Rivien guard and her pet monsters and do absolutely nothing about it.
Time slows to a crawl as I grab Peaches's face with my free hand and let out a wail as its teeth dig into my skin. I try to jab my fingers into its eyes but the leopard twists its head like a snake. At the rate it's going, I'm certain that Leaparra is forcing it to drag it out. The growl in its throat certainly makes it sound like it's desperate to swallow me whole.
If Sir Cawle's just going to watch me… My yell hitches higher until it's a piercing scream of agony. The teeth of the beast are like the coldest ice, igniting my blood. I might as well give him a show.
The trace of my own life-force rises on my tongue and I squeeze my eyes shut, digging deep inside myself for the power lurking there.
The darkness of my eyelids is lit in blood-red light from outside and my eardrums pop as the sound of an explosion rocks the ground beneath me. The jaws around my arm are torn away and I hear an animalistic wail of fear and pain mingling with Leaparra's human shout, then a thud. My body buzzes and I roll over, panting with pain and fumbling with my left hand to assess the damage on my right forearm.
The leather is torn, and my fingers come away smeared in blood, but it doesn't seem deep. I flex my fingers and there's barely a twinge in my arm, though I have to guess that's more from the adrenaline pulsing through me than the severity of the injury. Still, it seems shallow. Guess I don't get a badass leopard-bite scar. But no scar is better than my right arm being out of commission for the rest of the battle.
When I look up, I suck in a breath. The tips of the grass all around me is lit or burning out into cinders that litter the moor. Leaparra and Peaches are gone and there's a wide ring of empty ground around me; beyond it, the grass isn't lit on fire and there are knights stumbling to their feet or rolling around to put out fire.
What makes me suck in a breath isn't that I've thrown the leopard that was trying to chew me up ten metres, it's that this isn't the first time I've… exploded like this, for lack of a better term. And last time it happened, I nearly killed the person I would die for by accident.
I need to get a grip on that. I'm nervous, but at least I have a moment to catch my breath as the fighting slowly re-invades the circle I cleared out.
I have a few moments before someone attacks me and I get to my feet and brush myself off quickly. Fireheart is lying on the singed grass beside me; I hadn't even noticed it slipped out of my hand but I'm relieved it didn't get thrown further.
I've barely picked up my sword when a blow to my back sends me reeling forward onto my knees. I let out a grunt of pain and roll before whoever it was can put their sword through my back.
Sure enough, a swing comes down on me and I cross Fireheart in front of my head, grabbing the flat edge of the end and bracing. I absorb the shock of the strike and throw off the enemy's sword, then vault to my feet using my last memories of my acrobatic training and get into a standard position, ready to swing.
"Oh shit." She's the one to say it, but I'm thinking it as well.
Silaverre Strime, daughter of King Crukkedaro Star and beloved of who was my best friend until she destroyed our relationship.
I stare into her eyes, blue but almost silver as they reflect starlight, and feel a hint of disgust. So this is her. This is the one that Graie is giving up everything for. I raise my sword, unfazed by recognizing her and after a heartbeat, she does the same.
Then let's see if she can fight. It only takes a thought to ignite my sword in flame and I give her a cold smile. Far from running off like the other knight I fought earlier, she merely returns the joyless smile and points her sword at me with the kind of languid movement that doesn't even spark a flicker of movement from me. I tense all the same, ready to swing, but she shuts her eyes and I see a sparkle on her hand. Life-force? What kind?
Then her sword starts to get longer. That's when I consider running away. It shoots toward me like a silver arrow and I dodge to one side. Grabbing it with her other hand, she swings the staff-length sword and I duck, then thrust my sword toward her stomach.
"Stop! What are you doing!" My heart drops when I hear the shout and I drop the point of Fireheart to the ground.
Graie runs up to us, eyes wide and panicked. "No! You can't fight!"
This has gone too far. "She's the enemy! I don't give a shit if you two are—"
"Please, Fiyr, don't!" he begged, throwing Graystripe to the ground and dropping to his knees. I'm stricken. He can't do this, not here. But his eyes are deadly serious. He looks terrified. He looks furious.
"Graie—" the Rivien pleads, stepping forward, her sword having shrunk back to a normal length.
"Sila." He looks from me to her, the same desperation in his eyes. "I love both of you, you can't hurt each other."
Emotion wells up in my throat despite everything. After so long? "Graie…"
He looks to me and shakes his head. "Don't. Please, just for—for the Starlaxi's sake, for my sake, leave each other be."
I look at her. She's stone-faced, but a crack appears as a tear streaks Graie's cheek and she softens and reaches out a hand for him. He clasps her palm in his and stands shakily. I can't help hating her; she acts like he's hers. He's more hers that yours, my conscience reminds me. You both made sure of that.
Though Graie and the Rivien aren't brazen enough to embrace in the middle of a battle between their kingdoms—thank the Starlaxi—they're still too close to not be fighting.
"Let's go," I growl under my breath to Graie.
He gives Silaverre a last lingering look then turns away from her and doesn't even spare me a glance before heading back into the fray. She looks at me, of course she does, then turns to find a new target to terrorize with her lengthening sword.
And then I'm alone. I turn to survey the battlefield but my eyes catch on one dark gaze in the shadows.
Darriek Styrp, eyes trained on me with an unreadable look in his eyes, turns away and vanishes back into the battle.
How much did he see?
A finger of ice slides down my back at the realization. Enough to see me and Graie standing with her without attacking. Enough to see Graie taking her hand? Enough to see him on his knees, begging us not to fight?
I throw myself back into the fight, trying to burn away the look in Darriek's eyes with battle, but the scales are tipping. Half of Shodawa has fled into the night already, and the other half isn't far behind.
Leaparra is nowhere near me and when I spot King Crukkedaro, it's clear his opponent doesn't need help.
Because Sir Cawle is almost killing him. The two giant men look like wrestling bears in the moonlight. I'm chilled by the sight of them; it's not a practiced swing-parry-swing-block-dodge-swing. They're on the grass, the king of Rivier pinned beneath Sir Cawle as the latter wraps his hands around the king's throat.
No! Rivier might be scum for invading Wynnd like this, but choking someone to death definitely isn't permitted by the knight's code.
I run at the pair of them, but before I get there I see a flash in the moonlight. I've seen it enough tonight to know a moonlit sword when I see one. Then I see something new; Silaverre driving her sword into Sir Cawle's side.
He throws himself off of the king in time to only be grazed, but she's on him again in an instant, more silver than just her sword flashing in the moonlight.
It's her life-force, I realize in an instant. Silaverre… silver. I'm an idiot.
"Rivier—" I hear Crukkedaro choke. "Rivier, retreat! Retreat!"
"No!" Sir Cawle roars.
What?
He grabs Silaverre and practically throws her aside to rush the king again, but Crukkedaro is faster than he looks and has already taken off across the plain toward a cluster of horses that I can only assume are the horses that Rivier rode in on.
Half of his court has already reached them and when Sir Cawle makes it to them, the king of Rivier has disappeared over the hill. He lets out a growl that chills me. It doesn't sound human. Did he not want King Crukkedaro to give up? What did he want? But I don't need to wonder, because I wasn't close to them when they were wrestling, but I would have seen the glitter in Tigre's eyes from halfway across the territory. It spoke of murder. And he was angry to be interrupted.
I feel cold. Like the veil has been lifted just a little, like Sir Cawle's smooth words and dark eyes have lost their power for a moment and I've seen the man behind the mask; the man that wanted to force a battle to go on longer so he could feel another man's life leave his body.
But my attention is drawn away from the memory of the murderous gleam in his eye when King Tahliorius's raspy voice rings out over the knights of Thundria and Wynnd.
"Knights of Wynnd!" he shouts. Every face in the gloom turns him to him. "You have proved yourselves once again to me and I am proud to call myself your king. You have all fought well against this unjust invasion."
A ragged cheer goes up. I see Owen Newskar, his hand splayed across his cheek and blood dripping between his knuckles, hold up his other fist triumphantly.
"And knights of Thundria," the king continues. It's difficult to make out in the darkness, but I see his eyes on me and they're warm. "You have come to our aid with bravery and selflessness. I, and my court, am in your debt."
On an impulse, I drop to my knee. The king smiles thinly, and in an instant the rest of Thundrian is kneeling too. Sir Cawle is not, but I'm far from surprised by that.
"Thank you, thank you." King Tahliorius sounds embarrassed and he waves his hand. "That's—that's unnecessary. Please, return to your kingdom assured that Wynnd will not forget this kindness."
With few words exchanged between the courts, Thundria heads off to find their horses. I find Blitz grazing peacefully with Quicksilver and I avoid Graie's gaze as we fix their saddles and mount. But Sir Cawle, instead of giving the signal to ride out again, is heading over to us with a dark look in his eyes.
A sinking feeling in my stomach, I scan the surrounding Thundrian knights until I spot Darriek's shape. He glances at me and gives me a sickening smile and I have no doubt that whatever he did see, he's passed it on to Sir Cawle.
"Sir Sterrip," Sir Cawle rumbles.
Graie flinches. "Yes, sir?"
"I couldn't help noticing how you let a Rivien knight go without a scratch despite ample opportunity to fight her," he says softly. This is the Sir Cawle I know; quiet, dangerous, threatening. "Even though she was the enemy. Or am I wrong?"
"You're not wrong, Sir Cawle," Graie whispers. His eyes are pinned to the floor in submission and Tigre evidently senses that, because he goes in for the kill.
"And I also happened to notice that you were awfully…" he puts on a show of choosing his words, "familiar with her."
Whatever colour was left in Graie's face drains away and impossibly, a protective fire flares inside me. I nudge Blitz forward and I come up beside Graie.
"Sir Harte—" Sir Cawle begins contemptuously, but I don't even let him get into it.
"For my part, I couldn't help noticing how you tried to fucking murder the king of Rivier!" I exclaim, pressing a hand to my chest in mock surprise. "Dear me, I thought it was against the knight's code! And how you tried to keep the battle going longer just so you could have another shot at killing him!"
Sir Cawle snaps out of his stunned silence. "Excuse me?"
"I'm sorry, have you already forgotten?" I spit, past fury that he'd dare accuse Graie of anything no matter how accurate he might be. "Hands around his throat? Choking the life out of him?"
The surprise drains from his eyes and is replaced with a fire glowing deep in their depths. "You'll regret this."
"Leave Graie alone. Stab me in my sleep, poison my food, I don't give a shit, but leave him out of it," I hiss, the confrontation at last banishing all my fear as I nudge Blitz closer until I'm close enough to lean over and punch the captain of the guard if I need to. "Do you hear me?!"
The anger, though still burning in his eyes, is replaced by a tight smile on his face. "This isn't the end of it."
"For Graie, it is. This is between you and I." I don't know where this sudden courage has come from but I won't complain.
"This isn't over," he repeats, but for now, he turns and kicks his horse into a gallop.
It isn't until he disappears over the crest of the hill that I realize I'm breathing hard.
"You're sparking," Graie informs me softly. I glance down at my fists and see the flickers of flame dancing over them and take a deep breath, regulating them.
The sparks vanish and I let out a sigh.
"Thank you for that," he says quietly. "I don't have that kind of bravery."
I don't answer, just keep breathing heavily.
"I meant what I said, you know." He breaks our silence again after a moment, still staring down. Finally, his eyes lift and meet mine. "I do love you. You were my best friend for too many years for me to let anything come between us now."
It's all I need to let my own floodgates open. "I was wrong. I never should have tried to make you choose between the Rivien and me. You'll always be my best friend and I trust you to make your own choices. I don't know what position you're in, but you know best what's best for you."
Graie sniffles and I realize that my own cheeks are wet. He swings himself off of Quicksilver. I dismount Blitz as well and he enfolds me in a hug. It's like we're both trying to crush each other in our arms, but he's warm and solid, not the elusive shadow I've let him be for too long.
"I'm sorry I did that to you," I mumble.
He lets out a laugh through his tears. "It's my fault as much as yours, but you're going to need me when Sir Cawle comes to collect your ass."
"I'd be glad to have you," I answer.
We hold on to each other for another few minutes before I finally let go of him. His hair's rumpled and he looks like a little boy again. My arm aches dully, reminding me that the world has been carrying on without us and when I turn around, I see that the rest of Thundria has left without us.
"Alone in Wynnder territory again," Graie laughs, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.
"We're experienced now." I punch his shoulder lightly. "Though we're not exactly heading off on a grand adventure together."
"I'd like to have a grand adventure into my bed."
We share a laugh and despite the exhaustion and pain and fear, warmth fills me. He's back. Sir Cawle, Shodawa, the rest of the world be damned—right now, I can face anything.
"Come on. Let's go back."
Thank you for reading chapter 25! Please follow and favourite this story and leave me a review with what you think!
Land of Silence, book 3 of The Prophecy Begins arc, will be starting next week! It is currently about 65 percent done and I intend to publish it over the course of about 5 months, therefore the chapters will go up about every 5 days. It will alternate perspectives between Fiyr and Cindra and will be 25 chapters long, plus the prologue. Get excited!
~Akila