[This post is from Marin’s point of view.]
I took a pair of breaths and cleared my throat, drawing myself straighter. We needed to end this, somehow—and fast. I picked up my bow, then looked back over my shoulder toward the interior of the walls. Thordin was nowhere in sight, Sif vanished with him—likely seeing Jacqueline in the absence of J.T.’s ability to help. That was good—could be good, anyway, though I felt like we needed Thordin on the wall. He must have still had a grip on the storm, though, because it still raged, the winds growing colder and harder, blowing away from our walls rather than toward them. That helped, at least.
At least I’m telling myself that his doing that is helping. Damn it all.
Matt started climbing back up the wall toward me and I could see worry in his gaze. Cameron was headed up into the watchtower.
“Are we clear below?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady.
“Clear below,” Rory reported. “Guessing not on the other side?”
I shook my head. He gave a grim nod.
“I’m coming up, too,” he said, then headed for the section of the wall on the other side of the gates.
Next to me, Matt hauled himself up onto the top of the wall, casting a questioning look in my direction. “Let me guess, still shit out there.”
“Too much,” I said. “They haven’t stopped coming.”
“Have we figured out which one is leading them?”
“Fuck no,” I said, glancing back toward the field. My stomach twisted. There hadn’t been any indicator of which camazotzi was the one in charge of the rest. Perhaps they’d learned their lesson months ago, when we’d identified and eliminated one of their commanders at that point. The battle had turned into a mess for the camazotzi and we’d managed to scrape out another victory.
“Sounds like it’s time for big guns, then,” Rory said.
My gaze snapped toward him. He stood on the edge of the wall. His clothes were steaming. A curse dropped from my lips.
“Rory, what are you—”
“Time to burn them down.”
