Nine – 03

[This post is from Kailey Astoris’s point of view.]

The sound of Lin’s voice sent fresh cold flooding through her. Kailey twisted, her hand clamping down on her mother’s even harder—just as Hecate’s grip crushed hers.

He stumbled toward the wall from the shadows of one of the watch towers, his eyes wide and face pale. “Don’t shoot them,” he said again. “They’re not here to hurt us.”

Matt’s gaze cut toward her for a second, then went back to his nephew, expression darkening. “How do you know?”

From the corner of her eye, Kailey saw Phelan reach over and grasp her father’s arm, fingers flexing. If Matt felt it, he gave no sign. Her father’s attention was wholly on Lin, who stopped a dozen yards from the bottom of the wall and stared up at them.

“I just do,” he said. “I can hear it. Feel it.”

Her father opened his mouth to say something. Phelan interrupted. “Did you dream it?”

Swallowing hard, Lin nodded.

Matt breathed a curse. “Hold the arrow, Sif. Let me know when they’re a hundred yards out.” He started moving toward the ladder. “Kailey, stay with Lin. Keep him right there until this is over. Understood?”

Bile slicking her throat and tongue, Kailey nodded. “Okay, Dad.”

His gaze lingered on her for a few seconds, a flash of pain flickering through his eyes before he nodded slightly, glancing toward Hecate. “Are you staying or coming?” he asked softly.

“I’ll stay with them,” she said, squeezing Kailey’s hand again. “You never know.”

Matt nodded, then started down the ladder. Phelan was already on the ground.

Neve and Carolyn watched them from the other side of the gates. “What’s going on?” Neve called.

“Care, get some of your friends to check them out,” Matt said. “We’re going to talk.”

Carolyn glanced back behind the wall, spotted Lin, then nodded. “Got it. I’m coming with you.”

Matt didn’t argue, simply nodded and continued down the ladder.

Kailey followed, heart lodging in her throat.

I could strangle him. He’d said he was going down. When had he seen what he’d seen? Why hadn’t he told her? He could have—

She shook her head, climbing down the ladder as quickly as she could. There would be time to be angry later.

Right now, she needed to pray her cousin was right and that this wasn’t a colossal mistake.

Truth be told, she figured it could go either way.

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Nine – 02

[This post is from Kailey Astoris’s point of view.]

Kailey tore her gaze from the faces of the people manning their defenses—most of them faces she’d known her whole life—and looked out over the field again, straining her eyes to see beyond its edge to the edge of the old hills. Those hills had once been buildings, according to her father, buildings that had been slowly reclaimed by the earth since Meteorfall. That was what they called it—either Meteorfall or simply “the Fall.” She’d never asked for the full story of it, though she’d heard bits and pieces over the years. Growing up in the Valley, it was hard not to.

Unless the riders took those low hills head-on, they’d funnel through a narrow space between them to the wide field below the walls. Kailey wasn’t sure which would happen.

After all, this was something new for her.

“Sif,” Matt said, glancing past Kailey and Hecate. “Ready the warning shot. Two hundred yards out.”

Sif nodded slowly, notching the arrow but not drawing yet.

Kailey swallowed.

This is real. I’m not dreaming. This is actually happening.

The sound of riders grew closer and for a second, she held her breath, her heart starting to beat faster. She groped for her mother’s hand, found it, squeezed.

Hecate squeezed it back, leaning into her ear. “Steady, ceann daor. It’s all right. Nothing will harm you.”

She wanted to tell her mother that wasn’t what she was worried about, but the words stuck in her throat. Her head bobbed in a slight nod. “Of course, mum,” she whispered, her throat tight.

Maybe nothing today. But what about the day after? Or the next?

Something was going on. All of them knew it. Why else would her father have reacted like this?

Why else would she have panicked at the sight and sound of riders while she was out in the orchards?

“I have eyes,” Neve called from the other side of the gates, her voice just loud enough to reach them. “They’re coming through the narrows.”

Matt just shook his head, holding up a hand. “On my signal, Sif.”

“You got it,” she said, her voice grim as she lifted the bow, readying to aim without drawing—not yet.

Why waste the energy if you might need it? Who knows if there’s an army behind them?

A chill skittered down Kailey’s spine and she swallowed hard.

“Don’t!”

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Nine – 01

[This post is from Kailey Astoris’s point of view.]

“No one fires until I give the signal,” Matt said, his gaze raking over the archers on the wall. “Sif has the warning shot.” His voice lowered as he glanced at Kailey, who clung to the wall, pale and shaky.

I never expected it to be like this. She bit her lip, meeting her father’s gaze.

“You said they were armed,” he said quietly.

She nodded. “Yeah. Six of them, looked like they were armed. Couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I know what I saw.”

He nodded, then wrapped an arm around her. “Stay close to me or your mother—no matter what. Okay?”

“Okay, Dad.” The words came as barely more than a whisper. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.

She hadn’t seen anything like this since she was a little girl, not since her aunt and uncle had died. Things had seemed to quiet down after that, though she’d never bothered to consider why. Maybe there wasn’t a connection.

Maybe there was.

Kailey looked up and down the wall, taking in grim faces, determined looks. None of them seemed all that afraid.

Why not?

Deep down, she was terrified.

Hell, even right below the surface, she was terrified.

Who are they? Why are they here?

In the distance, she could hear the soft drone of hoofbeats. She held her breath.

Whoever it was, they were nearly here.

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Eight – 08

[This post is from Thomas Merlin Ambrose’s point of view.]

The gates were already closed as I slipped into the shadow of one of the watchtowers and the movement upon the walls was ebbing—it seemed that everyone that was going to end up on the walls was there and in position. It was something I hadn’t seen in years, not like this, not since the last battle where my father—

I blinked back the sudden sting in my eyes of threatening tears and focused on the here and how—aching wounds, pounding head and all. I leaned against one of the support posts, temples throbbing with each beat of my heart.

They mean you no harm.

I shivered at the voice. It was cool and smooth, like sheets just laid on the bed after drying in the autumn wind. It was familiar but at the same time, I was sure I’d never heard it before.

I swallowed hard, closing my eyes for a moment.

If I can just reach far enough—

There were six of them, four men and two women. One of the men was hurt, sick—maybe both.

No. Definitely both.

Bile crept up in my throat and I swallowed it back down. They were looking for something—had been looking for something for a long time. Their quest had cost them dearly already and they were hoping—

—hoping that it wouldn’t cost them more than they’d already paid, though most of them, deep down, already knew that it would.

Uncle Matt was giving orders—I could hear him giving instructions to the archers, readying them for what he suspected was coming—what he wrongly suspected was coming.

These aren’t scouts for an army. They’re not raiders. They’re—

Pushing myself upright, I stumbled out of the shadows beneath the watchtower and toward the wall.

I had to stop this before it was too late.

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Eight – 07

[This post is from Thomas Merlin Ambrose’s point of view.]

As I approached, no one really looked at me—all of them seemed far more intent on what they were doing. I could hear my uncle’s voice from the wall, but I didn’t see him right away. The sentries up in the watchtowers didn’t give me even a single glance, their gazes and aims pointed out toward what had always been called the killing fields beneath the walls. Even my parents’ journals called them that, as uncomfortable as it seemed to make them to make the reference.

Still, it’s hard to deny something so true. There had been more than a few battles fought on the grounds before the walls, enough that every few years, Phelan, my mother, my aunt, and Uncle J.T. would walk the ground before the walls, meter by meter, cleansing and sending any of the lingering dead. After my mother was gone, Neve had taken her place, though I always got the sense that it went hard on her—though I’d never asked her why. It just seemed wrong to bring it up.

Last time when I’d watched, Phelan had hinted that he’d be teaching me how to do it the next time around. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, either.

But then, Angie had warned me it might be so before she’d left a few years ago. With her gone, I was the next logical choice for Phelan to train—something she’d known long before I’d realized what it meant.

Everyone up on the wall was armed, I realized as I drew closer—everyone except for Kailey. I didn’t see Tory or Anne, which meant either they hadn’t made it back inside the walls or they’d been sent below with the others.

Neither instance quite made sense, but I supposed their absence depended on where they were when the alarm sounded. If they were out in the far fields, or minding the flocks, it might have been that they were too far.

Still…I had a bad feeling.

So what else is new?

Nothing—at least not yet.

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No Monday update this week.

Work has been….special.

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Eight – 06

[This post is from Thomas Merlin Ambrose’s point of view.]

It was controlled chaos around us as she dragged me along to the tunnel’s entrance. She had no way to know that I had zero intentions of going below, especially at that point. I stuck close, not wanting to tip her off to what I was planning.

I could hear my uncle shouting something from near the gates. We were maybe a dozen yards from the tunnel entrance we were heading toward, and I nudged Kailey gently. She startled, turning to me, blinking rapidly.

“What is it?”

I gestured toward the sound of her father’s voice. “You’d better get going. I’m sure he didn’t expect that it’d take as long as it did to convince me. Whatever’s going to happen, I think it’s going to be starting pretty quick here and you’ll want to be near him when it does, if that’s what he’s planning to have happen, anyway.”

“But I’m supposed to—”

I pointed ahead of us with a wince. “The tunnel’s right there. Where the hell else am I going to go? Like you said, there’s not anywhere else that’s safe if someone’s about to attack us, and you’re right, I’m in no condition to fight or anything like that right now. Go. I’ll be okay.”

She hesitated, biting down hard on her lower lip. “Stay down there until the all-clear’s called, okay? They’re really worried about you.” Her voice cracked a little. “I’m really worried about you.”

“I know,” I said quietly, stomach twisting. I pecked her on the cheek and nudged her slightly. “Go. Be careful.”

After another hesitation, she nodded, turning away and taking off at a jog toward the sound of her father’s voice, which had come from the direction of the gates.

I took a slow, deep breath, then continued on toward the tunnel’s entrance, just in case she looked back to make sure I’d gone in that direction. I knew her too well—she’d look back and check. I saw the motion of it from the corner of my eye after I’d gone another dozen steps, and then she moved out of my sight—and I moved out of hers.

Once I reached the tunnel’s entrance, I changed direction. The noise was getting quieter, the number of people rushing a round dropping to a trickle—the last few headed to the tunnels, the last few headed to the wall.

Steeling myself and hoping no one thought to ask any awkward questions, I turned and slowly, slowly headed for the wall.

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Eight – 05

[This post is from Thomas Merlin Ambrose’s point of view.]

I tugged on my boots.  Kailey crossed her arms, watching me, her expression suddenly suspicious.

“What are you not telling me?” she asked.

I shook my head quickly and regretted it as the world spun around me, then slowly righted itself.  Oof.  Don’t do that again, Lin.  I rubbed at my temple.  “Don’t worry about it.”

Those are words out of your mouth that I am too damn smart to believe,” she said, snagging a spare blanket from my bed and the last book she’d seen me reading—one I was admittedly still reading.  “Come on.  The family wants you safe.”

Unfortunately, the family didn’t always get what it wanted, but for the moment, I’d play along.  I let her usher me outside and found myself mumbling a heartfelt curse against the glaring sunshine.  The pain was almost enough to make me double over.

So that’s why Dad always wore the sunglasses after a big fight.  I’d never known exactly why, but back then I’d chalked it up to just looking cool and concealing anything like dark circles or black eyes.  I’d never considered another practical purpose for the act.  Now, the reason he’d worn them was becoming abundantly clear, especially if I’d inherited at least part of my heightened sensitivity from him.

“What’s wrong?” Kailey asked me as she turned me toward one of the entrances to the tunnels.

I almost shook my head but barely managed to stop myself.  “Just the light.  Making the headache worse.”

“I thought Aunt Jac gave you something for the pain.”

“She did.  Clearly, not enough.”  Probably because she—rightfully—expected me to stay in bed and sleep it off.  Which I would be doing if the world wasn’t suddenly exploding.

Was this really what it had been like for our parents all those years ago?

Something told me we were about to get a stronger dose of their experience than either of us had ever bargained for.

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Eight – 04

[This post is from Thomas Merlin Ambrose’s point of view.]

“Fine.” The word came as an exhaled breath. “Fine, dammit, fine. There are riders coming cross-country. I saw them from the orchard. They’re armed. They might be scouts, they might be something else, we don’t know. Dad’s getting everyone ready for a fight and he wants you below where you’ll be safe.”

My heart started to hammer. “What about you?”

“He told me to find him after I’d gotten you somewhere safe.”

Then why the hell is he sending me into hiding? Even as the thought crossed my mind, though, I already knew the answer—I was hurt and needed to be protected. But how many times had my parents gone to the battle lines hurt? I knew from their journals that it had happened dozens of times. Each of them had worried every single time, but they’d still done it.

It was what they had to do. What they were supposed to do.

I swallowed, standing up. I pulled on a clean shirt over the bandages, then a pair of pants and socks. Kailey watched me, chewing on her lip. Outside, the clamor of the village preparing for a potential attack hadn’t abated at all. I wondered how close they’d gotten, or if they were still where Kailey had spotted them.

“How long was it since you saw them?” I asked.

She frowned. “I don’t know. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Why?”

“Just curious,” I said. That’s about the time I woke up.

Everything’s connected.

                Everything.

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Eight – 03

[This post is from Thomas Merlin Ambrose’s point of view.]

“Oh hell no.” Kailey crossed the room in two seconds flat and grabbed my arm before I could stop her—or warn her.

Hell, someone should have warned me. The pain that lanced through me had molten claws that dug into the marrow of my bones. Even trying to suppress the cry that tore from my lips resulted in a sound I’d never heard before, one that indicated pain even more extreme than I’d realized I was feeling. I jerked it from her grasp, gasping like a fish out of water as the pain stole my breath.

All the blood drained from her face, her eyes saucer-wide. “Oh gods, Lin, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Breath hissed through my teeth as I hugged my arms to my body, trying to push the pain aside. It wasn’t working.

Is this what Mom and Dad dealt with every time something like this came at them? If that’s the case it’s sure as hell not going to be fun. Not ever.

Stubborn as I was, though, it wasn’t going to stop me.

“It’s fine,” I rasped. “Just please don’t do that again.” I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the way my eyes were tearing and the way that my nerves seemed to be misfiring.

“We have to go below,” she whispered. “Please, don’t fight with me.”

“What’s going on?” I asked her again, my voice still raspy, but steady.

Her lips thinned. “Lin—”

“Dammit,” I snarled, starting to stand up. She was quick to slide her arm around my waist to support me. I tried to shove her away. “No, Kay. No. Not if you’re not going to tell me what I need to know. If you don’t tell me, I’ve got to go find out myself.”

It’s important.

I just don’t know why.

Now my eyes were watering for an entirely different reason. I reached up to swipe at the tears that stung. Frustration had always been the most upsetting thing for me—more than pain, more than loss, more than anger, anything.

Her jaw trembled as I glanced at her sidelong.

I couldn’t tell if that meant she was going to tell me or if she was going to haul off and slug me, bandages and all.

It wouldn’t have been the first time.

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