Page 38 of Wings of Ice and Steel

Before long the plateau was quiet, punctured by the groans of the injured. Healers ran across the campsite, seeking the wounded, while the battered warriors still standing shook as their adrenaline ebbed.

Ariadnne lowered Melixanthe to the ground and summoned a healer.

‘How bad is it?’ Ariadnne asked.

‘She’ll live.’

Melixanthe grunted and gave Ariadnne a tight smile. Ariadnne glanced towards Sol. He remained locked in conversation with Lucius and his new Second, Failion, but his eyes shifted her way. She couldn’t decide if he’d made a genuine error or if he’d left Melixanthe on purpose. It would have been a convenient way to get rid of a rival.

Nieve also stood apart, watching them all with a light frown. She was giving the general a contemplative stare, and her ambition to become Ariadnne’s handler swam to mind. If Melixanthe fell in battle, that ambition might be easier to realise.

The thought didn’t sit easily.

With a heavy heart, Ariadnne rose to assess the rest of the team. Josef was doing a headcount and Ariadnne ran her eyes over the knights, checking for injuries. Lucile was nursing a nasty gash to her abdomen, and Kayla was staring fixedly at the floor with her hand clasped on a bleeding thigh. They were one short.

‘Han?’ she asked Josef, praying that the boy lived, that he was with the healers.

He shook his head, eyes tight. ‘No.’

Ariadnne closed her eyes, Han’s youthful face flashing against her eyelids. Her dragon raged at the waste of life, and she needed to take a deep breath before she lost control.

‘Gods alive,’ she cursed bitterly. ‘What in the hells was that? It’s supposed to be safe here.’

‘Maybe they knew we carried prize money for the Guild,’ Josef shrugged. ‘And hoped we’d be broken, easy targets after the battle.’

‘Least we showed them,’ Regulus replied from behind. ‘Though at a cost. I’ve lost two good knights tonight. I’d like to know who was behind that, and if their leaders are among those we’ve killed.’ He stared around. Unfortunately, it looked like all the invaders were dead so they had no one to question. Josef rolled the nearest one over with his foot and went to smear the paint before realising it wasn’t paint at all. The face, which was surprisingly youthful, was completely tattooed in black. A startling contrast to the startling white of his eyes and white pointed teeth.

‘That’s odd.’ Josef frowned.

‘What?’ Ariadnne glanced at him.

‘I’ve seen these markings before, but not in this area. The shadowed ones usually don’t stray far from the coast, and they never attack our mounted units—only Guild foot legions.’

Ariadnne looked back at the dead fae, whose eyes stared sightlessly at the sky, and there was one thing she knew; if she saw another of the inked bastards again, she’d kill them.

Eighteen

Ariadnne

It wasn’t enough.

The dead invaders had been dragged to the edge of the plateau, a feast for the carrion birds, while the Guild’s dead were collected reverently. Lucile closed Han’s eyes, crossing his hands over his sword. They said words.

But it wasn’t enough.

When the sun rose, the firedrakes would shift and use their flames to immolate the corpses, rendering them to ash. A token for each of them would be collected and brought to the Guild burial grounds overlooking the cliff.

But they would still be dead.

Ariadnne stood silently while the company said their goodbyes to their youngest knight. Even though she hadn’t been close to Han, she was restless. Her draconic side struggled to come to terms with the loss. It was an inherent part of her to be protective of anyone deemed as hers, and Han had been hers.

Both Regulus’ and Lucius’ handlers had worked to calm the firedrakes, persuading them to sit and eat by the fire. Neither varan would leave their companies to go back to the main tent, but then they had each suffered worse losses than Ariadnne. Despite her frustrations with the males, she knew they held their companies close. They had been with most of their knights longer than Ariadnne had been alive.

Melixanthe was already abed, dosed by the healer to rest and mend. Without her calming presence, Ariadnne found herself pacing the length of the camp under the watchful eyes of her company. Her skin glowed silver in the moonlight, her dragon’s scales shifting under the surface and none of her knights dared to comfort her.

So many humans lay dead behind them, and now this.

So much death. She’d never get used to it.