Page 150 of Commanding Flame and Shield
“I can’t—I can’t beat him. I…I don’t know how to beat him.”
“Breathe, Ally.”
“I—I can’t beat him I—” I gasped for air, flexing my fingers, fighting down the anger, the energy, the nausea, everything threatening to burst through me.
“Breathe, Ally.” The dominance August put into that tone, the sheer depth of the calm command seemed to snap something in me. Tears poured down my face, but I forced the muscles and bones to obey. To inhale. Exhale.
Slowly, eyes trained on my own, August reached forward, and wrapped his warm arm around my waist, pulling me to him. The sky still seemed to threaten a crushing embrace, panic seizing my mind like it held me in a fist. He slid a sleeve over his hand and brought it to cup the back of my head. Cradling me, he led me towards his chest. I complied, focusing on my breathing. I felt his shield slide over me as he stroked a gentle pattern up my back. Like a spiritual Novocain, that calm steadiness of August washed through me.
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
August’s heart was still thundering when I could finally find it through the roaring in my ears. Even still, that steady pulse, warm beneath my face, seemed to settle something in me.
“Breathe,” he said again, voice gentler as my panic settled to a simmer. “Just breathe.” He settled his fingers over my spine, pulling me tighter against him. A cool wave seemed to pulse from where his fingers sat against my back. It washed down over my chest, my stomach, my core, eventually liquid tingles trickled down into my legs. Cool and steady, his numb washed over me.
Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
“Good, Ally. Just breathe.” The cold continued to creep up my neck, easing the physical tension there before washing down through my arms, to my fingertips. I closed my eyes, blocking out the ever-bright Middle Realm. His heart gradually steadied, his fingers still stroking cooling patterns down my back. After a long while I lifted my head away. The world still seemed to spin around me, but it was no longer so crushing. I stared up at those emerald eyes and locked in the bottomless pool of them.
Inhale, exhale.
“Hey,” his voice was soft again, the cool command gone. “What was that?”
I shook my head. “I’ve tried it hundreds of ways, August. There’s no way to win. I can’t see past the knot, and there are only a few threads in there that even look like we emergefree. He will come for us. For you. For me. The others…are collateral. It doesn’t matter how many ways I twist it. It’s always the same.”
“So, we have to go through it.”
“We have to…go through it.” Inhale, exhale. Breathe. Breathe.Breathe. Slowly, gradually, the spinning began to cease. “Ansel, Lana, Fae. I think. I think we will lose one of them. I keep seeing them dead—Ansel most often. There’s…an unknown at play that might come in. But they must be bound too because I can’t…see...” I rubbed at my temples as they throbbed. "But. The only threads we stand a chance in—The Renown fight without elements.”
“They don’t have their magic?”
I shook my head. “No. They don’t. But Adrastos will know their odds diminish without it. How do we strip them when they strip us?”
“I don’t know.” An honest answer. I buried myself against his chest again.
“An unknown?”
“Sometimes, my visions can’t manifest who makes the decision that changes things. Especially so if it’s a stranger. Familiar beings, souls, are easier to read.” August nodded as though that made perfect sense.
“If we don’t take his offer, Adrastos will come for me…for us? In all the threads?”
I nodded.
“Then let's get ready for him.”
Every blade, large or small, in the hierarchy’s arsenal was sharpened, cleaned and oiled accordingly. Bows were re-strung, guns cleaned, and magazines loaded. I stared at the hall, full of our warriors as they inventoried and prepared for a battle we knew was coming. A warm snap, it seemed, was due to hit Colorado in three days’ time. Where everything started, so it would finish. I’d known the location of the low-lying clearing, known that snow would blanket the ground, save for large patches that melted with the rain. Knew it would come to that, although we still didn’t know what brought us to him. What the trigger was. It was always different—usually an innocent from August’s past, or a soul in the hierarchy. Noble as he was, August would never stand for innocent blood being spilled in his stead.
The risks were explained, the odds, death tally, and numbers presented in the great hall, from the rarely serious faced Aren. Catastrophic odds, a force thrice our size. The souls would not leave the burden upon August alone, or even upon the coven alone. Word was sent to Marcus and the Westerlunds, although no word had been sent back. Few details could be provided anyways. So how were they to reply?Yep, heard everything's going to shit—hit us up, we’ll be there?
The healers were busy preparing every medicine for infection and wound care, endless piles of bandages were delivered to Saraya, her healers all brushing up on every form of field care they could think of.
An icy, merciless, and unrelenting guilt filled my veins. I had failed them. Failed my family, my friends, my hierarchy. We came up against a clairvoyant enemy, and their strongest clairvoyant couldn’t compete. Couldn’t outmaneuver the bloody mess barreling down on us. They rallied for an enemy with impossible odds, for a cause we didn’t yet know. We just knew we would answer the call for aid. Whomever it may come from.
SIXTY
LITTLE NOVA
AUGUST
