Page 307 of The Edge of Darkness

Then Remic was there, and Auren too. Wherever her light aimed, enemies vaporized into flecks of star-dust. I briefly noted their presence, but panic rooted me to the ground, rendering me useless.

“Roirdan!” Auren yelled. “Roirdan, MOVE!” Her voice was both near and far.

The world whizzed by, a frenzy of shadows and swords and the sounds of death. For a moment, I lost myself in it, thinking of a pale-haired witch somewhere out in this mess⁠—

Something struck my side, just below my ribs, with a force that knocked me back into my senses.

I looked down . . . at where an iron-tipped arrow stuck out from the right side of my abdomen. I waited for the pain, for the burning caused by the metal mixing with my magical blood, but . . . nothing. Instead, the arrow slowly tipped to the side and fell from my leathers.

What the⁠—

I slammed a hand to where the arrow had just been, feeling for blood, for a wound, but my hand only met leather and . . .

A coin.

Frantically, I thrust my hand into the small pocket that was usually meant for satchels of herbs or tiny bottles of poison—something I might find myself in need of when in the middle of a mission where life and death were guaranteed to hang in the balance. I fumbled for the mystery object. The moment my fingers closed around it, I knew exactly what it was.

I unfurled my fist, revealing the small silver token that had been on Nivelle’s fireplace mantel. The token she’d said held an ancient incantation for protection. There was a notch in it now, right in the center, where the iron-tipped arrow had hit it.

Had it not been there, I’d be fighting to hold onto my power—a predicament I would not have wanted to be in for what remained of this battle. And had I not made the last-minute decision to bring the token with me, my body would be scrambling to try and heal right now. It had stopped that arrow like that was its sole purpose.

A shuddering breath left my chest as everything came back into focus. I clutched the token one last time before returning it to my pocket.

My thoughts cleared, and I let out a roar, ready to take up arms next to Auren, to defend her as she’d defended me. I turned in place, searching for her amidst the bombardment of shadows and swords, but all I saw were Aremis, Silas, and Vanir.

Auren and Remic were gone.

Havoc. Mayhem. Madness. Those were the last things I saw as I cried out to warn Roirdan of what was coming.

It hit me all at once—the darkness, the shadows. Skadi’s vile essence and her wicked laugh swarmed our ranks, constricting the air like a vise. I lashed out with my light, but the shadows were relentless. I couldn’t hold my shield and wield my power.

A shadow sliced into my shoulder, then tore free. I cried out, just as a flash of gray and a set of strong wings swept around me. Remic threw his body into mine, and we spun out of the chaos.

In a split second, we were in an open area on the field, far from the ensuing battle. The echoes of swords and guttural screams were a distant chorus. He had brought me out of the center of the fight, to safety.

I clung to his chest, breathing heavily, before leaning back to look at him. His face was covered in blood that wasn’t his. His eyes, and the markings around them, pulsed a fiery red, as if they were full of burning embers.

He scanned my face for any sign of harm, just as he always did, then his eyes lowered to my injured shoulder and he let out a growl.

“I’m all right,” I assured him. “Thanks to you.”

His expression softened, and a crooked grin crept across his lips in relief.

I was beginning to smile in return, when I heard a heavy thud that shook my own chest. Remic rocked forward, his mouth parting with a strained grunt.

Another thud.

His body buckled against mine, wings flaring in distress. The world seemed to stand still as he looked down at me, pain crippling his brow.

By the time I realized what was happening, the thud of a third arrow found its mark in his back. My body absorbed the shock of it as he drew me into his chest and held my head to him, cradling me as if he’d shield me from the world forever.

No, no, no!

Each arrow pierced deeper and deeper, through leather and flesh, yet one by one, he took them, holding his breath upon each bone-crushing, heart-splintering impact.

I pushed against him, trying to get out of his arms—if only to stop whoever was sending endless arrows at his back—but he held firm, tightening his grip. I screamed into his leather, writhing against him, but he wouldn’t let me go.

He held onto me as he took them all.