Brooke

9

It’s deep into the night when I hear a shout. It pierces the night quiet, instantly sending my pulse to a gallop.

Hayden has nodded off beside me, but he wakes with a small jolt. I grip his forearm to keep him from making any sudden movement that might give away our position.

“What was that?” he whispers. His eyes pan across the rolling land below us, and he blinks a few times to shake off sleep.

“A man’s voice. Close.” I don’t hear it anymore. Now I only hear the creak of branches as they sway with a breeze.

We come to our feet slowly, forcing steadiness out of our tired, stiff limbs. There could be Auds nearby, so we are careful to move in silence as we find our bows.

The sky has calmed considerably since the show of funnels and the smoke hours ago. The Aether flows are smoother, almost veil thin. They are as calm as I’ve seen them in days. We have gone from a tempest to a gentle, low tide. Safer for us, but without a thick concentration of Aether above us, we’ve lost much of our illumination. The night has grown dim. A murky rolling blue, like we’ve swum to the bottom of the sea.

My range of vision has decreased to only two hundred yards. Wearing horse blinders could not feel worse.

“We should move off this hill,” I say. “We won’t know what’s going on unless we get closer.” My idea is borderline idiotic. We’re in a secure position, and leaving it for unknown danger would be insane. But I have never been one to wait around for things to happen. I’m confident that Hayden will steer us right, though.

“Good idea,” he says. “Let’s go.”

No voice of reason, then. My fingers tighten around my bow.

As we descend the hill, my heart thuds so powerfully in my chest that I wonder if Hayden can hear it.

We walk half a mile before we see them. A group of people emerges from the mottled darkness.

I count forty.

They stand in a wooded fold between two hills. I search for Wylan but only see strangers. I recognize the dry creek bed, though. The trees grow thick there, because the water still runs beneath the ground. Somewhere, miles to the west, is the spot where Hyde and I were posted last night. But tonight I am farther out, on the edge of Tide land.

Then I hear him.

“Listen up!” Wylan snaps. He jumps onto a boulder, appearing above the crowd. “We’ll head north and approach along that ridge. Expect to be challenged by a pair of sentries.” He points into the darkness. “Two archers, within the first mile. Good fighters. But there are more of us, and we can’t expect to take this land and the food we need, land and food that are rightfully ours and that we deserve, without having to show some courage, can we?”

There are a few grunts of agreement.

Hayden’s eyes lock with mine, and I know we’re thinking the same thing.

Reef and Gren are guarding the area these people plan to move through. They’re in danger.

“Once we get past them,” Wylan continues, “we won’t run into any trouble until we reach the cave.”

The cave.

Clara.

I yank an arrow from my quiver, nock it, and fire.

It’s a wild action. Aggressive and possibly suicidal. But if I don’t do something, Gren and Reef could die. My tribe could be harmed, and my sister.

My arrow spears a man through the thigh.

I keep going, loosing another. Hayden joins me, and in moments screams of terror lift from Wylan’s group. They are visibly shocked and confused. We are firing on them from the rear—the borderlands, where they came from—and surely the direction they believed they could retreat if needed.

But soon their own bows appear, and arrows slice past me. I can’t fire anymore without risking my life, so I kneel behind a rock outcrop and pray that my instincts are right.

Gren is an Aud. He’d have heard the commotion Wylan’s group just made.

Tell me he heard.

It’s the only chance Hayden and I have of getting out of this alive.

I look to my right. Hayden has taken cover behind a tree. When he sees me, he winks. There’s something a little reckless about him. He’s enjoying this. Like me.

Wylan’s group is creeping toward us. I’m no Aud, but I can hear them approaching, their steps swishing through grass and crunching on twigs.

It hits me then: my gamble failed. There’s been no sign of Gren or anyone else. I look at Hayden again. We’re going to have to make a run for it, and that won’t work either. Most likely I’ll get a few arrows in my back.

I pull up to my feet and see Hayden do the same. No time to dwell on the situation. Just have to act.

Hayden tips his chin, telling me to run first while he lays down a barrage of shots, giving me cover.

But then I hear something new. Shouts behind me. Peering over the outcropping, I see Wylan’s group scattering. Arrows are sailing down at them from the west.

Gren! He heard. He and Reef have positioned themselves opposite us, behind Wylan’s group.

And better still, a volley of arrows flies from the south as well. Hyde and Straggler have joined in the fight too. Gren and Reef must have sent them a signal—or they’d seen the commotion themselves.

Hayden lets out a growl of pure battle hunger and leaps into action. I grab my bow and set to work again, my heart swelling with what I know is a sure victory.

We have hemmed in Wylan’s group. Thanks to the fires, Hayden and I landed in an advantageous position. While Hyde, Straggler, Reef, and Gren push the intruders out of Tide territory, Hayden and I have created a dam, prohibiting their retreat to the borderlands. We have trapped them.

I focus on one target, loosing an arrow. It plunges into Wylan’s thigh. He buckles to his knees, clutching his leg. He looks up at me. “Shoot her!” he screams.

The words die in his throat as my next arrow spears him through the stomach. He topples over. I move on to my next target, knowing that Wylan is finished.

We could turn this into a slaughter if we wanted to, but we don’t.

Reef’s whistle calls us off. I lower my bow and see that we showed restraint and mercy. We wounded quite a few, but their loss of life is minimal.

“Go! Get off this land!” I yell.

Then I watch as the survivors limp away.

Wylan is not one of them. He lies motionless on the grass. I put him there, and I feel no regret for what I’ve done.

He’ll never be a threat to the Tides again.