Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 57: Fight Like You Mean It

Seraena stood on the steps.

Dawn swept over the horizon like a hungry beast, taking yellow and pink chunks out of the mountainside. People shouted orders, mounting horses and sheathing weapons. An alarm bell rang overhead, its bright peals shattering the early morning stillness. The attacking soldiers would be on them in minutes. Seconds, maybe.

She looked to the skies, where her dragon circled like a black ghost.

Kyllini, Seraena thought. I need you.

Next to her, Kane was buckling armor, his calloused fingers working at the fastenings. "The others?"

Seraena shook her head. "No sign of them."

She'd written to Cillian for aid as soon as they'd landed in Wynterlynn, but there'd been no word from her uncle. Which was unsurprising, Seraena thought, considering he'd inherit the throne if she died today.

Awfully convenient.

Her stomach rolled. She braced a hand against the wall, trying to fight back the wave of rising nausea. Sweat beaded her neck.

Kane touched her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Seraena wiped her mouth. "I'm fine."

"You look sick."

Seraena raised her head. "There are five thousand soldiers swarming the castle. Aren't you feeling a bit unwell?"

Kane searched her face, and Seraena raised her chin. It was the truth; or part of it, at least. But if she told Kane the entire truth, then he'd never let her fight today. And like hell was she about to sit back and watch.

No.

She'd fight today. She'd vomit off the side of her dragon, if she had to.

Seraena hastily plaited her hair. Their dragons had landed on a patch of grass nearby; Hellart pawed at the ground, puffing clouds of steam.

"Listen," Kane said. "I won't ask you not to risk yourself. There's no point in that. But I'm asking you..." His throat bobbed. "If it comes down to a choice between us, choose yourself. The kingdom needs you, Seraena. Fight like you mean it. Fight like hell. But don't bleed for me."

Seraena shook her head. "You know I can't promise that."

"I know." Kane's smile was tired. "But I thought I'd try."

Seraena touched his cheek. She could smell sea lavender, feel the grit of sand on his skin. Kane was home; every piece of him was as familiar as the spiny coasts she'd grown up running along, the pulsing forests that she'd conquered with tree forts and wooden swords.

"I love you," she murmured. "Be safe."

Kane squeezed her hand. "Find me in the skies."

Seraena mounted her dragon. Thank gods she'd thought to strap knives to the saddle the night before. Twenty, to be precise; not nearly enough for a battle, but it would have to do. Kyllini glanced back, her silver eyes flashing, and Seraena's chest swelled.

She patted her dragon's head. "We've changed the world together, you and I. Are you ready for one last fight?"

Kyllini let out a torrent of fire. Seraena smiled.

"That's my girl." She braced her feet against the stirrups. "Let's fly."

**

Anna tore across the battlefield.

Footsteps pounded the ground behind her. Some of the soldiers stumbled, weighed down by metal and fear, but her own feet were steady. She'd grown up on this land. She knew the exact way that the grass gave when you jumped, how the frost tried to catch your heels as you ran. This was her land. Her home.