Starsinger

Helpless

"Isn't it beautiful?" Lord Malcolm cooed. He stared almost lovingly at the black fog blooming across the second wall of Aster. The first wall was melting under the onslaught of the Crollish mages, and in the distance the Drake flagged as the Ravens aboard the Bloodhound turned the tide of battle.

Aaron stared out from behind the marble pillar, dread rising like bile.

"Call them off," Sapphire demanded, panicked. "Now."

He needed to get her out of there. Together they could find the rest of their team, get Raelyn to safety and just keep running. Live to fight another day.

But only if we live. Slowly, carefully, he began to sidle along the edge of the terrace. The thick, twining vines of ivy shielded him from view.

Malcolm hefted his crossbow. "The Apprentices of Ellanoi Conservatory. The greatest magical force Re Vlynn has seen since the Division. They will make such lovely Ravens." He grinned. "I really should thank Vance for his unwitting assistance. Ezra works better when the shadows have already gathered."

Vance. The First Strategist must have outwitted Jace. Outwitted, or killed? Aaron clenched his fists againt a wave of crushing desperation. No, no, no.

"Damn you," Sapphire growled. "Raelyn is down there."

For a moment, Lord Malcolm actually looked surprised. "You brought the princess onto a battlefield?"

"Stop them," Sapphire snarled. "Stop Ezra, or all your grand wedding plans go up in smoke. Unless you want the whole court to see you've turned their princess into a dead-eyed puppet."

Lord Malcolm sighed. "It's a pity. I suppose it'll have to be a private ceremony."

A few more steps and Aaron would be within point blank range. He slid closer.

"You can save her—"

"I tried the nice way," Lord Malcolm cut her off. "At least this way Princess Raelyn will be far more amenable to her betrothed."

Sapphire's eyes filled with a cold, dead rage that made Aaron's skin crawl.

"I will tear you limb from limb," she hissed.

"So you've said." He stroked the underside of his crossbow. "And yet you hesitate. You may be fast, but are you fast enough to dodge a steel bolt?"

There was a long pause. Sapphire stared hard at Lord Malcolm, who matched her gaze. The clash of ships and mages echoed up from below. Aaron was so close he could see the frown lines around Malcolm's mouth. Carefully he hoisted his bow.

"Yes," Sapphire said. "I am."

"You're probably right," said Lord Malcolm. He whipped the crossbow around to Aaron's hiding spot. "But he isn't."

Aaron's blood froze in his veins, his hand halfway to his quiver. Too late.

"Come out from there, boy," Lord Malcolm called. "Come into the light."

Aaron stepped forward onto the terrace, and all the color drained from Sapphire's face.

"A little closer," Lord Malcolm instructed. Aaron grit his teeth and obeyed until he was only a few yards away from the gleaming tip of the crossbow.

"Much better." The smirking nobleman turned to Sapphire. "What do you think? If I pull the trigger, how long will it take him to bleed out on the marble?"

"I watched him die before." Her voice was flat.

"Yes, and I remember how you screamed."

Aaron stiffened. "Sapphire, go. You can still help them."