All the Queen's Angels

Ch. 33: Tempestuous Torment

Evangeline POV:

"AMBROSE?," I scream as I watch Angels pierce through the storm clouds in an ambush. Brandishing crossbows, they shoot fire-tipped arrows that tear down the beach. As I peer through the whirlwind of white feathers, I feel foolish for hoping to see him.

Ambrose has lost his wings. He will never touch the sky again.

I watch in horror as the crowd below stampedes toward the cover of the cliffs, trapped by the ocean and the rocks. Natalia shouts orders in vain as the chaos overcomes the courtesans. She struggles against the current, the tide rising rapidly. Soon, the entire cove will be submerged.

Up on the cliffs, Malcolm steps forward, directing our troops to the battlefield on the beach.

"Capture the General," he shouts. "Dead or alive."

"What about the courtesans?" I ask him as I glimpse a noble get skewered by an arrow. His blood stains the cliffs, turning the sea foam red. I shudder.

"Angels take no prisoners," Malcolm says, assembling his weapons. "And neither do we."

"But they'll all die," I press as he pulls down his battle mask.

"Such is the misfortune of mortality."

"I want them as hostages," I insist, grabbing his shoulder. "In case we can't capture Amaryllis."

Behind his mask, I can't tell what he's thinking. But eventually, I feel his shoulder drop as he sighs.

"I'll see what I can do," he grumbles. "But I need you up here spotting the horizon. If you see the Angels turn on us, release these flares. That will be our retreat signal."

"You got it," I nod, securing them in my suit. But he's still standing there when I'm done. Before I can ask what's wrong, he places a hand on my cheek.

"Be safe," he murmurs. I manage to nod, thrown off by his softening gaze.

"I will see you when the battle is won."

He strokes his thumb across my cheek before turning to stone again and pulling away. I watch from the cliffs as he leads the Infernal Army to swarm the now-blackened beach, fire turning the sand to ash. Their battle cries echo louder than the deafening ocean waves.

Above, the Angels begin to circle and divebomb the beach as the water rises.

"Queen General Amaryllis," they bellow. "Surrender now or your people will drown at your hands."

Malcolm tears his sword from the chest of a Forsythian soldier and wipes the blood from his face as he roars at the queen, "LET THEM DROWN, AMARYLLIS."

He shoots her a bloodstained sneer across the beach as she emerges from the crimson sea. Amaryllis brandishes a wicked harpoon fit to slaughter sea serpents, wrestled from a fallen angel.

"Touch one of my people and your precious Heathen is gutted like shark bait," the general snarls. And then I see him.

As the funeral carriage surrenders to the abyss of the ocean, I spot a flash of red locks. Battered by the relentless waves, Ambrose lies chained to the bottom of sinking carriage.

I watch Malcolm weigh his options.

Spare Amaryllis and her citizens for an Angel. His wife's lover.

Or slaughter the enemy, capture their leader, and Ambrose becomes collateral damage.

The choice is stupidly simple.

Malcolm lunges toward Amaryllis and a gutteral scream escapes my throat as I watch her plunge the harpoon into the waves.

Angels whirlpool into the sky, their white feathers falling like snow. They raise their arrows, aimed at the Infernal Army.

With shaking hands, I do the only thing I can think of.

I launch the flare.

"RETREAT."

Everyone pauses as the watch the flare spiral from my hands and into the blackening sky. As the Angels above scatter and begin to dive, the Infernal Army floods back towards the sloping cliffs. Malcolm whips around at the sound, and his glare pierces through the blinding lights of the flare. He knows my angle and he's determined to get to Ambrose.

Well I won't let Malcolm beat me to him.

Dodging the burning ash and streaks of fire from the flare, I scramble across the grassy bluff to the cliff side. On the flooding beach, Malcolm moves inhumanly fast. His sword slices effortlessly through Angels and Forsythian citizens alike, clotting the sea foam with blood. I have no choice but to begin climbing down the rocks to the sea in order to reach the carriage.

Amaryllis stands her ground on the beach, spearing Infernal soldiers and Angels as they swarm towards her. She has completely abandoned the carriage that has nearly disappeared into the sea.

I only have a minute before everything I loved is lost to the tides. As I begin lowering myself down the cliff side, my hands, slick with sweat and sea spray, begin to slip on the jagged rocks.

"Evangeline!," I hear Malcolm shout from below. "Get the fuck back to the base, you idiot! Don't break your neck to spite me."

I grit my teeth as I secure my grip on the rocks, regaining my footing. The wind howls and tears at my armor, but I climb down steadily.

I would never break my neck to spite anyone. But to save Ambrose...I might be more than convinced to take that risk.

Suddenly, an arrow whistles through the air and pierced the rocks between my hands, shattering the cliff side and sending debris flying into my eyes. Through the tears, I realize it's not just any arrow.

It's a harpoon.

Amaryllis shoots again, this time piercing my hand and trapping my in the rocks. I cry out as the pain rips through my arm, a sob shuddering through my body as I cling to the little purchase I have left. Another harpoon arrow slices my cheek, barely missing my skull.

I need to move, now. I only give myself one moment, a single deep breath. Steadying myself with my feet, I use my left hand to grab the bloody arrow from my right—and pull. The sudden jolt of pain rattles through my like lighting and I see stars for a moment.

Fighting the urge to pass out, I use my injured right hand to keep me steady on the cliff as I turn to face my opponent. She stands a several meters below, aiming for my heart.

I return the favor and aim for blood, the harpoon singing through the air as it leaves my hand and buries itself in her shoulder. She groans and stumbles back into the sand.

Good. Stay down.

Malcolm gives me a reluctant salute of approval before taking over and beginning her formal arrest. Forsythian troops escort surviving courtesans to safety as the Angels return their focus to Ambrose and the carriage.

As I breathe a sigh of relief, the cliff cracks. And then it cracks some more. And suddenly the cliff side beneath my hand turns into loose gravel and dust and nothing at all.

My ring glares back at me as I fall victim to gravity, and even though it is not the same ring he gave me, and even though I know he cannot save me, I whisper Ambrose's words from long ago:

"Et iterum ego pro vobis."

I see stars as I fall.

...
A/N: WHAT IS GOING ON???