Defiance: The Umbra Chronicles Book 2 Read online

  ‘I’m serious, Aine,’ Aoife said. ‘Give me Emer or I won’t hesitate to ruin everyone’s lives. I have your brother. One more insolent word from you and he will be pushed to his death. Gwydion, why don’t you wave to our sister?’

  ‘Gwydion.’ I thought it was Aine speaking at first. The magic she and Aoife were using made it sound like they were speaking right into my ear but this was actually said by the man standing behind me. It was the softest whisper, then, a little louder, repeated, ‘Gwydion?’ He pushed past me and headed down the hill.

  ‘And more than that, Emer!’ Aoife went on. ‘Your precious sister and your precious sweetheart are tethered to the spires. If you don’t show yourself now, I tell you truly I will burn every piece of scrap on Stellari to ashes, Elisabeth and Caradoc included.’

  From a distance, from further away than Aine and Aoife’s voices now, I could hear Andras shouting Gwydion’s name as he ran down the hill.

  My blood ran cold. I’d watched Aoife kill Caradoc with magic once, or so I’d thought. I’d seen her stab her own stepmother, who was the only person in the world whom Aoife had ever professed to love. I had no doubt that she would do it. My heart fell, and I let it fall. I gritted my back teeth and let my heart break.

  ‘No,’ I whispered, although there was no way she could hear me. I drew in a deep breath. I couldn’t let Aoife have Umbra. I would have given my life to save Sparrow. I would have given my life to save any of my friends. But I wouldn’t let the whole world fall into ruin for their sake. They wouldn’t ask it of me. Tears slipped down my cheeks, but I refused to sob. Again, I said, ‘No.’

  The magi moved into formation. I’d thought they were just standing in a group, but they knew what they were doing. In the space of a heartbeat, each raised an arm to connect to the person in front of them. They were in the shape of a giant star, each person part of a line that radiated out from the centre where Sora and I stood. Someone put their hand on my shoulder and I felt the power of all those combined magi flowing through me. Sora took my hand and laced her fingers through mine.

  ‘This is your last chance, Sister!’ Aoife cried. ‘Give Emer to me or I will destroy your whole army!’

  ‘We Camiri don't just fight to protect the Bach Chwaer, rightful Queen of the Thousand Counties. We fight for our freedom; we fight to protect our lands and our loved ones. We can never submit to the will of the White Queen, neither in large things nor small. I defy you, Aoife. Every last one of us here is willing to stand against you.’

  Aoife’s voice was as cold as her heart. ‘I warned you.’ She nodded to the guard restraining Gwydion. He shoved. Gwydion fell.

  Andras’s scream ripped along my bones.

  The magi cast a blast of wind towards Gwydion. He fell from an immense height, but the wind caught him as he fell. He was too far away for me to tell how hard he hit the ground, but even with the support of a magical gale, he wasn’t going to walk away from this one.

  #

  A dragon swooped low over Aine’s troops. The power of all the magi flowed through me again and lightning arced up from Sora’s hand where she thrust it towards the sky. The thunder that followed almost immediately was deafening.

  The bright spear of light didn’t fade. It continued to crackle up from the ground to meet the dragon. A second spark of lightning joined the first from one of the far points of the star. It killed the dragon’s rider.

  When the first lightning struck, the dragon began to toss its head. When the second lightning struck, the dragon reared back in mid-air, fanning its massive wings back in a violent movement that dislodged the corpse of the dragon rider from the saddle, leaving him to dangle limply from his harness. Wind was already whipping across the battlefield, beginning to eddy into funnels.

  The dragon raised its wings, arched its head back and slowly fell to earth.

  Aine’s troops held their distance until the dragon was down, then they swarmed over it. I heard the sigh of the dragon as it died.

  I turned to Sora. ‘We did it!’ I cried. If I’d been Sparrow, I would have thrown my arms around her, but I didn’t, because I’m not the nice one. ‘We can do this!’

  Sora’s face was sombre. ‘Bach Chwaer, this is only how it begins, not how it ends.’

  As soon as she finished speaking a horn sounded. This wasn’t the musical horns of the Camiri that bayed and yelped like hounds, this was a shrill, sharp sound. Sora pointed; she didn’t have to do more.

  Armour glinting in the dim light from the pyres, outlined at the top of the hill, was the rest of Aoife’s army.

  Magi began to slip out of the star, seamlessly making way for others to take their place.

  ‘Where are they going?’ I asked Sora.

  ‘They are the wolves of war. It takes a lot of power to change shape – they are the best of us. They will go among the enemy and use their teeth to rip out their throats and their magic to call down lightning upon them.’

  I felt a sting of pride. The creepyguardians had always done their best to suppress my magic. I'd never had much chance to talk with other magi. Others had described me as powerful, but I had no measure to compare it to. If changing shape was a mark of power, maybe I really was powerful, because Sparrow and I had always found changing shape to be easy. If I survived, maybe I could become one of them. My magic was always more powerful on the offensive. Maybe there was something I could be good at.

  It was no use thinking of the future, though. We were already formed into another star and more magic was arcing up towards the dragons. The army on the hills started pouring down over us.

  The dragons abandoned their distant position and began to swoop down over Aine’s troops. The magi couldn’t bring the dragons down all at once. We focused our attention on one dragon. The others swooped over Aine’s troops and breathed out fire upon them.

  I gripped Sora’s hand tightly. Ronan stood among those soldiers.

  The next surge of lightning was brighter than any that had come before and all the magi gasped. It felled the dragon at once, the rider’s body falling to the ground amongst the Camiri warriors. That was Umbra’s power, coming to my aid when she sensed that I needed her.

  Sora swung around to look at me. ‘Was that you?’ she asked. I nodded because it was easier than explaining.

  The wind was already whipping the magi’s robes. Umbra’s magic whipped it into a tornado that spun away from us. One of the other groups of magi all raised their arms towards the tornado and I realised that they were directing it towards Aoife’s army.

  Then another dragon made a pass just a fraction too close to the magi and we had to focus again to bring it down. Our power was concentrated by the star, but with every blast of power we slowly weakened. It seemed to go on forever and, after a while, even I was leaning heavily on Sora, just as she was leaning heavily on the person in front of her.

  And still the dragons came.

  The whole camp was illuminated now. The dragon fire was burning everywhere and sometimes a person would reel past, burning and screaming in a column of flame. It was hard to tell if it was the lucky or the unlucky who were caught by others, pushed to the ground and beaten at with the edges of a cloak to douse the flames. You couldn’t even tell which army they belonged to, neither before, when they were a streaking burst of flame or after, when all distinguishing marks were burned away.

  There were tornadoes ripping through the sod. They danced around the battlefield and touched down to pick up men and horses and weapons.

  Aine fought just like any of the soldiers. The magi were on a slightly elevated position so we could see as much of the battlefield as possible and do as much damage as we were able. I followed Aine’s progress through the battle. Her standard bearer never left her side until he was struck by an arrow. The standard was caught by another soldier and held aloft even before the first standard bearer struck the ground.

  Aoife was trying to get to Aine, but for a long time the press of the clashing armies was too great. As
I held on to Sora’s hand, I couldn’t help but watch the black and the white standards striving to meet one another among the press of the warriors. The banners would move closer and closer together, then a tornado would touch down and drive them apart, or a dragon would flame or fall and the battle would shift. I tried to find Ronan among the warriors, but they were all helmeted and his bright hair was hidden. I had no idea where he was.

  Aine’s troops were slowly being driven back. The Dark Queen had her magi, but the White Queen had her Dragon Guards. Our star had brought down at least half of the dragons, but there was still half a dozen or more of them flying over the battlefield. They were a terrible enemy.

  We could have had Kiaran’s dragon, Oisin, on our side, but I had begged him to leave us. I had no idea where he was, no idea if he even cared about the outcome of the battle.

  Then another dragon would come within our range and we would gather our rapidly dwindling strength to strike lightning at the sky again.

  I was leaning so heavily on Sora that my head rested between her shoulder blades. Someone behind me had their head on my shoulder and I didn’t even care. A horn blew, a Camiri horn that whistled like a bird right in my ear. The magi around me all cried out and started to scatter. I looked around. Three dragons were bearing down on us from different directions. We could barely cope with one at a time. When our powers were strong and fresh, we might have survived, but in our weakened state there was no way we could even protect ourselves.

  The mage behind me let go of my shoulders. Others were running. Sora spun around and pushed me backwards. We stumbled together down the hill towards the bulk of the Camiri army. The dragons’ wings sounded like thunder in my ears as we ran for our lives.

  Flame billowed around us. It took the last of my strength to create even the smallest shield around us. The heat inside the shield was intense. I stumbled and fell onto the rocky ground, tearing open my hands and knees, but nothing broke. I heard something snap, but it wasn’t mine when Sora fell on top of me, but still she curled herself around me to shield me from the dragon’s flame. Her hand beside my face curled at an unnatural angle. I nearly gagged at the sight of it.

  The dragon passed over us, the flame singeing the ground all around us, close to my head and Sora’s broken hand. Sora started to lift herself off me but then she made a gurgled cry and slumped down over me again. I struggled to rise. I had to push her off me. She rolled to the side, limp.

  I cried out. Above me was a Meistri warrior. There were others all around us, killing the magi on every side. They must have been waiting for the dragons to scatter us, and now we had no defence. He raised his sword, dripping with Sora’s blood, to slash at me. I managed to roll to the side as the sword bit into the dirt and the rocks next to me.

  I managed to get to my feet. The warrior turned to slash at me again. I fumbled with the sword Sora had given me. I tried to run and dodge away from the warrior, but he knew what he was doing and I didn’t.

  I had nothing to lose. I had no magic left. All I had was a long, pointy bit of metal and no skill whatsoever in using it. I screamed, because if I was going to die, I damned well wasn’t going to do it quietly.

  The warrior raised his sword. I lunged towards him, both hands around the handle of my sword. I struck him in the stomach. The jolt was more than I’d imagined. I used all my strength to pull the sword back, but he twisted a little when I struck him and I had to pull the sword sideways to get it out. I carved a huge hole in his belly. He dropped his weapon.

  When I got the sword free of him, I fell backwards. To tell the truth, I fell on my backside, still holding the sword with both hands. He fell towards me and I rolled to get out of the way. If he landed on top of me, a big man in heavy armour, I wasn’t sure I could have freed myself from the weight of his body.

  Then I ran, the sword hilt still clutched in both of my hands, dirty with blood, but I was alive. He was dead. All around me there were people who were dead, lying singly or in heaps, draped over one another. Some of the corpses were burned, some were in pieces. I couldn’t think anymore. I just ran.

  There was a group of Camiri warriors ahead of me, running towards me. I turned and ran in the other direction. Everyone was a threat right now. I wasn’t wearing the white robes of Aine’s magi. I probably looked like I wasn’t on either side.

  They caught up with me. One of them caught me around the waist and pulled me off my feet. I kicked and swung out at him, bashing his armoured shoulder with the hilt of my sword. Another warrior took the sword out of my hand. I turned towards the man who held me, ready to bite his face off.

  I stopped just in time because it was Ronan.

  I plunged my head into his shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty

  And then it seemed like every horn on the battlefield sounded at once, Camiri and Meistri. We turned. In the thickest press of the fighting, the two banners of the Queens had met.

  ‘We’ve got to help Aine!’ I cried.

  ‘No. What we’ve got to do is get you to safety. Aine was a damned fool for allowing you anywhere near this battle in the first place.’ It was Andras behind the helmet. The other one with them, hands still bound, but with a helmet slapped over his hair, was Kiaran.

  ‘I gave her no choice. I’m not staying here while Aoife kills my mother!’

  Andras dropped a heavy hand on my shoulder that effectively pinned me in place. ‘I said no. Aine has made her choice. She is your mother. She has chosen and she has the right to give her life for you. It is for you to honour that choice, and make sure she doesn’t die in vain.’

  An arrow whistled past, narrowly missing Andras, so close beside me. My heart skipped a necessary beat. ‘Now do what you’re damn well told for once!’ he snapped.

  He gave my shoulder a shove to start me running across the plain, away from the closest press of the battle. Ronan squeezed my waist, once, then let go and we began to run together.

  It wasn’t like running across a field of flowers in some romantic fantasy. It was dark, despite being lit by the pyres of the dead and the dying, the dragon fire and witch lights hanging over their fallen magi. The ground was rocky and uneven, but I’m still pretty sure that when I tripped, it was over the corpse of one of Aine’s Wolves.

  Ronan hauled me upright and we kept going. But then we changed direction, carving a new path between the dead and the dying.

  ‘Where are we going?’ I panted.

  Andras answered. ‘Gwydion.’

  He led us to the tents where Aine’s camp had stood. Sometime during the interminable night, the battle had moved further up the valley, into the narrow neck between the two ridges.

  If I’d thought the camp would be empty, I was wrong. This was where the wounded went, and it was as busy as the battlefield. There were many dead here. It was somehow worse that they were dead here because that meant they weren’t lying where they fell. They’d thought they had a chance. They’d come here, dragged themselves here or been dragged by their companions and someone must have had hope that they would survive. And now they were laid out in ragged lines side by side, having only delayed death by terrible suffering.

  Andras barged straight into the largest tent. We followed. As soon as I entered the tent, I was forced to bend double. Only a moment later, I was retching. The tent was full of men lying on the rocky, dirty ground, clutching at their wounds and moaning. The air was full of screams and the smell of blood. Healers hurried past some of the warriors and clustered in small, desperate groups around others. I hadn’t seen healers very often, but their red robes looked to me tonight to be coloured head to heel in blood.

  Andras must have noticed I was holding everyone up. Ronan had one hand on my shoulder and he was bending low to see if I was alright. Andras grabbed my other shoulder and reefed me upright. Ronan cried out in protest.

  Andras grabbed hold of my chin and made me look up and around the room. He was angrier than I’d ever seen him. ‘Toughen up! This is the price that was
paid for you. The least you could do is look at them.’

  So, I looked at them, while Andras and Ronan had a tense confrontation I didn’t even pay attention to. Once I looked at the dead and the dying, I couldn’t look away. One not far away was gesturing to me and I left Andras and Ronan to fight about whether or not Andras had the right to speak to me like that and went over to the wounded man.

  His voice was hoarse and the room was noisy, but I heard him say, ‘Bach Chwaer, Bach Chwaer.’

  I knelt beside him. Tears came to my eyes and I’d never even met the man. ‘Yes, I am the Bach Chwaer.’

  ‘I saw you, many years ago, the night the dragon came to the Halls of Youth. You saved us all that night, Bach Chwaer. Save us again.’

  My tears fell and I had no right to shed them, because I didn’t know the man and I’d done nothing whatever to save him. And then a man lying a few feet away stretched out an arm to me and cried, ‘Save us, Bach Chwaer!’

  The cry was taken up by the whole room and even the healers turned to look. So many voices were calling out to me that I couldn’t even tell one voice from another anymore.

  ‘Bach Chwaer, save us.’ ‘Bach Chwaer, save us.’

  They all had such faith in me. Sure, I wasn’t completely powerless, but how could I do anything to save them? Who knew what was happening out there on the battlefield? The remnants of Aine’s army were outnumbered and outclassed. There was no hope. The dark army that had kept Meistria in check for decades was going to fall. Up until I realised was Aine leading it, I hadn't thought that would be a bad thing. Aine had made me her heir. Andras was right – that meant I had a responsibility to these people, whether I like it or not.

  ‘Bach Chwaer, save us.’ ‘Bach Chwaer, save us.’

  The Empress, back in the past, had been the first one to name me Bach Chwaer ‒ heir to the throne of Meistria. Warriors on both sides of the battle would call out to me to save them.