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An exhale.
An echoing thrum as the bow released.
A whistle as the arrow soared through the air.
She couldn’t hear the arrow strike, couldn’t see it, but she saw Ymaritis’s silhouette as he collapsed to the ground.
“Now,” she growled, grabbing Jaime’s hand and yanking him to his feet.
She leapt from the edge of the cliff, dragging Jaime behind her. A wave of her hand had them floating, a powerful wind propelling them toward the clearing.
Shouts sounded from below as Ymaritis’s soldiers barked orders to each other. Elyse flicked her wrist to summon her shield around herself and Jaime, who held tight to her hand.
One blast, then another, pelted into the shield, but Elyse kept her eyes trained on Ymaritis’s writhing body. He still lay on the ground, one hand clutched to his chest. As Elyse soared closer, her toes nearly skimming the tops of the trees, she could see the dark pool of blood that surrounded him.
“I’m going to have to lower the shield to grab the rose,” Elyse shouted, barely audible over the cries of the men below and their endless barrage of spells.
Jaime nodded, his body tensing in preparation.
They reached the edge of the clearing, and Elyse held her hand parallel to the ground, guiding their descent. Three men waited for them on the ground while two more crowded over Ymaritis.
“I can’t heal him!” one screamed.
That gave Elyse a surge of confidence as they sank lower, branches hurtling past them. Killian had done his part, and now victory was within reach. All she had to do was take out a few men and grab the rose. Adrenaline overran her, setting her magic ablaze.
One last look toward the sun, which was now halved by the horizon, before Elyse’s boots met the grass.
Her hands moved with fierce speed, no longer hindered by exhaustion. With one swift motion, she lowered the shield and sent a blast of hard air at the surrounding men, driving them onto their backs. Another henchman emerged from the treeline, but Jaime hurled a stunning spell at him before the man could even raise his hands.
Spinning around, Elyse scanned the small area for the rose. The dim light of dusk cast shadows across the ground, but her senses remained sharp, heightened by purpose. The rose lay on a small blanket across the clearing, its crisp colors vibrant against the pale fabric.
The two men who had been tending to Ymaritis stood and whirled toward them, hands ready for casting.
Elyse raised her shield just in time to deflect their spells, then sent her own hexes barreling into their chests. As they fell to the ground, she raced toward the rose, her boots driving into the ground. Behind her, she heard the clash of magic as Jaime held off the others.
She dove, her knees sliding in the grass as she wrapped the magical rose in the blanket, careful not to touch it. A shadow emerged from the treeline, taking the form of a snarling man. Elyse’s hands fumbled with the rose as she tried to snap her shield into place.
The man’s brows knitted together, his hands lifting with wicked intent. A fierce whoosh met Elyse’s ears before the man dropped to the ground. Stunned, her breathing rapid, she stared at where he lay.
An arrow protruded from his stomach, blood curdling around it.
She would have to thank Killian later.
Turning on her heels, she spun to see Jaime with his shield intact, fending off a flurry of attacks. Elyse tucked the rose under her arm and used her free hand to cast a trio of spells at the henchmen.
Between her and Jaime, Ymaritis lay on the ground. His body twitched, his hands spasming, but no shield protected him. His magic had likely been drained, just like the blood that spilled from his chest and lips.
Elyse stood, frozen in place as she watched him. Her fingers flinched toward her knife, still sheathed at her hip. She could end Ymaritis, could slice his throat and watch the light fade from his mismatched eyes. It seemed pointless—reckless even. His waxy skin and violent breaths spoke of an inevitable end, one that didn’t require her to put herself at risk by getting any closer to him. Who knew what he was capable of, even as death gripped him?
“Let’s go!” Jaime bellowed, snapping Elyse from her thoughts.
Ymaritis’s soldiers were scrambling back onto their feet. She raced forward, her free hand digging into her pocket to secure a transportation vial.
As she passed Ymaritis, she gave him one last look. She expected to see him gasping, trembling as life fled his body.
Instead, he smiled at her, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.
Elyse surged faster, crashing into Jaime. He gripped her forearm in a tight hold at the exact moment that she slammed the vial against the ground. Blue smoke erupted, vanquishing everything around them.
