Song of Shadows

Chapter Fifteen

Azriel

Chaos breaks out across the battlefield as my High Lord and Lady's "mating presents" rip though Hybern's ranks. The screams of the dying soldiers reaches us on the distant hill. Elain's face pales at the sound, but the fear in her eyes dulls slightly when our eyes meet.

I growl quietly as my shadows go blind and deaf near Hybern's camp. Rhysand lifts his hand, pointing to the center of the army. A red mist fills the air, raining blood and pieces of metal onto the remaining troops. My Siphons flare to life as I send a large blast of power towards that open wound. The two halves of the army move farther apart.

The legion of Illyrians rises into the sky, Cassian at the head of the charge. Hybern releases his own aerial legion, faebane arrowheads gleaming in the sunlight. Siphon shields fall, and the remaining Illyrians pull out their heavy metal shields. I shoot a glare at Rhys over my shoulder.

Damn it! I should be up there fighting with them! Cassian can't lead the entire legion himself.

Violet eyes meet my own. Behind the battle fury, I feel Rhysand's worry. You can't fly! You wouldn't be able to support yourself against those arrows. I need you alive. Cassian knows his duty. I need you here, on the ground, fighting beside me. Just as we have always done.

Rhys glances at Mor and Elain for a brief moment before turning back to the battle. Amren paces on the hillside, impatience etching lines in her face. "It's already getting messy."

"Not yet. He's barely engaged beyond the front lines. We need the king's focus elsewhere." The Carver, the Weaver, and Bryaxis are deep within the Hybern ranks, but the other troops fill in the holes left by them too quickly. My own frustration mounts as my shadows return to me, blinded and deafened by the king's wards.

I want to argue with Rhys again, but war horns echo across the field. The battle pauses as both armies turn to the north to see three banners whipping in the wind. Rhys turns to Amren and urges her to go. I know the orange of Autumn Court and the green of Spring Court, but the cobalt coat of arms I don't recognize. Elain lets out a faint sound of shock. Graysen then.

Eris appears on the hillside. Rhys lets out a bestial growl. "We thought you could use some help." Eris nods towards the head of the army. Jurian and Tamlin and Beron are at the head of it.

"What of your brothers?" Rhys asks.

"We're taking care of a problem." He looks to the black mass of Hybern's army where columns of flame and smoke are erupting. Faebane. Wicked satisfaction washes through me. "Jurian and Tamlin want orders."

Rhys nods before turning to Feyre and the others. He nods at Amren.

Elain jumps when Nesta lays a hand on her arm. She turns away from the battlefield, away from where Graysen fights. She wipes her eyes before being led away by the other three. I will my shadows to wrap around the four females, hiding them from sight and detection.

I pace along the hilltop, monitoring the battle as Rhys explains the plan to Eris. I can see Amren and the others stalking down the hill. The wind changes in an instant. I hear it roaring as my shadows begin to recoil. Nesta falls to her knees, clutching her head.

The Cauldron! I shout to Rhys. He turns to Eris and says a few words. "Shields..." Amren gasps out as Nesta topples her over. Rhys wraps a shield around our entire army. I reienforce it with my own power. "Cassian!" Nesta's scream echoes across the field. "CASSIAN!"

A figure drops out of the Illyrian ranks and flies towards Nesta. A few heartbeats later, the earth shudders. A blinding flash of pure power bursts out of the rocky foothills in the center of Hybern's army. Our shields shred instantly under the sheer weight of the Cauldron's attack.

My ears feel empty as I blink against the blinding light. Ashes rain down over our foot soldiers. The Illyrian and Peregryn ranks are scattered now, rendered in half by the blast from the Cauldron. Cassian hovers in midair, glancing from where Nesta sits in the grass to our reforming legion.

The world shakes once more as the Cauldron rallies its power again. Shields from all of the High Lords lock into place, but the destruction never comes. In the blast, part of Hybern's army turns to ash. The Bone Carver, lost in his own dance of death, turns towards Feyre and smiles before he vanishes.

The army below us begins to stir in panic. The Illyrians bellow to reform the lines, the white feathers of the Peregryns now mixing with the dark wings of the Illyrians. Bellows from the High Lords to remain firm can be heard. Cassian lands next to Nesta, his face paler than I have ever seen it.

"What is that? What--?" he stutters out.

"It's gone quiet again," Nesta whispers out. Elain, supported by Amren, heaves onto the grass. Her face is almost gray.

"Get back to the lines! Our soldiers need you!" Rhys barks at Cass.

Cassian bears his teeth. "What can we do against that?"

The fear in Cassian's voice snaps the tether on my own anger. Icy rage floods through me, erasing the exhaustion in my body. "I'm going in," I say quietly.

All eyes turn to me. "No," Rhys growls out. I spread my wings, preparing to take off.

"Chain me to a tree, Rhys." I ensure my weapons are in place and secure. "Go ahead." I glance at Elain, curled in a ball on the grass. "I'll rip the damn thing out and fly with it on my back."

I refuse to lower my gaze as Rhysand stares at me then turns to the Illyrian legion still raining arrows down on Hybern's army. Feyre clambers to her feet, weighing the odds of making it across that battlefield. Her and Amren look at each other. My heart drops at the eruption of another war horn. A dark line of ships forms on the western horizon, coming from the sea.

Countless ships, covered with more of Hybern's soldiers. This is going to be our last stand. Rhysand, Cassian, and I look at each other and nod. The promise we made to one another heavy in the air between us. We will stand together, until the end, no matter what. Feyre and Rhys speak to one another through the bond. I glance at Elain, who jumped to her feet at the new horn.

I will gladly die fighting for a better world. I will gladly die fighting for the friends and family I love. Mother, please, watch over the ones I will leave behind. Elain looks up and meets my eyes. I want to comfort her when I see the terror in them, but my feet refuse to move.

"Azriel," Rhys says. His voice cracks. "Azriel, you lead the remaining Illyrians on the northern flank." I nod and launch myself into the air. My muscles feel tender, sore and delicate. I ignore the sensation, the growing hole in my heart, and meet with the Illyrians. My Siphons flare to life, dragging the last bits of my power to the surface.

Before I can open my mouth to give the final order to charge, another set of war horns sound. From the east, from a distant memory. Another armada appears on the horizon, and countless winged soldiers appear in the skies above the ships. There are more ships than Hybern has in his armada. I see Rhysand, Feyre, and Cassian launch themselves into the air, staring off towards the east.

White feathered wings. The armor. It's the Seraphim! Relief fills the void in my chest, warming my resolve. One of the warriors breaks off from the rest, flying towards Rhys and Cass. After words are exchanged, the four of them look towards the ships leading the charge. The Feyre, the Elain, and at the helm of the Nesta, the patriarch of the Archeon family drives the ships towards Hybern's armada.

Glowing among the ships flies a bird of fire. Vassa. The lost queen. I order the Illyrians to prepare for another charge as the cursed queen and the ships slam into Hybern's armada. Hope blooms inside of my heart. Mother, watch over us all.