Page 173 of Of Bargains & Betrayal

“Anna, I’d look bright if I were you.”

“Anna? It’s Enora.” Even though Sasha was looking out the crenel opening, I glimpsed the roll of her eyes. “Do you see something?”

“You don’t feel it?” She cast me a skeptical look, but I shook my head. “A healthy amount of magic just kicked up in the air, and I don’t think it’s ours, but I could be⁠—”

“SCOUTS UP! ARCHERS READY!”

Oh, fuck.

That had to be why gooseflesh just rippled up my arms.

Sasha was on her feet already, as were at least half of the archers from each squad, with an arrow knocked, ready to be drawn. The cloth wrapped around the lower shaft of her arrow yielded to a flicker of nytefire with no need to be lit in the brazier. Like the other archers still kneeling up and down the wall to either side of me, I grabbed an arrow from my quiver and settled into a better crouch as I waited.

“ARCHERS UP!”

We all stood, knocking our arrows and taking our places beside our partners at the edge of each opening. If I hadn’t firmly clamped my jaw shut, there was a concerning likelihood I’d be muttering prayers to gods I’d never paid any heed to.

That, or I was dancing dangerously close to the edge of turning my stomach inside out.

“SCOUTS AND ARCHERS, DRAW!”

I gave my bow a set of warming half draws before I dipped my arrow in the nytefire brazier, knocked it, and drew the string back across my chest with a satisfying whine. Sasha and I fit perfectly side by side in the opening, war bows loaded, not a single fucking target in sight.

The plateau ahead was still empty, with no sign of movement coming up from the camp below the ridge. Even the flaming, tar-coated boulder they had fired at the obelisk was just smoldering pathetically at its base now.

I cast Sasha a sidelong glance that apparently explained the confusion my mind was fraught with.

“Wait.”

A single, tense word.

I waited. Flexed my fingers around the bow arm.

Gave the arrow a little laxity before I drew it again.

It felt good to have such a well-crafted bow in my hands after what had to be months—if only it wasn’t because I was about to open fire on my people.

“FOLLOW MY MARK!”

I didn’t dare voice it, but what fucking mark?

My eyes scoured the plateau, lit by sparse sunlight trying to break through the cloud cover, searching and searching and⁠—

An oily glimmer formed on the plateau, maybe a few hundred feet ahead of the wall, and I narrowed all my focus on it as the first order came.

“SCOUTS, FIRE!”

Bowstrings snapped and arrows flew, just as a ripple of sickening magic tore through the air.

An entire Odessan archer squad appeared, armed with bows and ballistas, right where the marker had just been. The initial wave of Grimmorian fire landed just as Odessa’s squad tried to fire off their first assault, sending their green and tan-clad soldiers rolling and diving away.

“ARCHERS, FIRE!”

Hesitation seized my fingers, staring down at the frenzied group wearing the uniform I once did, but I forced them to free that arrow, sending it soaring with a second volley.

The stretch of plateau became a blur of arrows tipped with blue and red fire. Shouts alternated from the commanders as we sent wave after wave, ducking and dodging from behind merlons, and Sasha cast me more than one utterly enthralled grin.

Waves of aetheric shields flared up on Grimmoria and Odessa’s lines, knocking out scores of arrows before they could make their marks. The ballistas on either side let out groans and metallic clanks as they fired their bolts. Rock crumbled as the wall took hits; soldiers screamed and shouted on either side as arrows and metal and fire met flesh.