Heart of Ash (The Dark Arcane Series: Book 1)

Chapter Fourty Seven

Darius watched as Ashyn fell to the ground.

He looked at the wrecked earth in horror. The black power she wielded had brought death to everything it touched, leaving dark scars and withered vegetation.

Conan had fought at Ashyn's back, bringing down anyone who tried to attack her. He had been ferocious in his defence, his eyes shiny with tears and teeth gritted together. Now he kneeled next to the Ender's body, openly weeping.

The battle was over.

The few Brialdian soldiers who still lived were running away, or dropping their weapons.

There was no sign of his mother or the other witches, all disappearing when his mother had sent out an awesome bolt of light that blinded everyone. Each display of her power had been a shot to the heart. So he'd tied a tourniquet around his heart and refused to let it show. On the outside he was fine.

The storm had broken, the rain reduced to spitting and the clouds let the setting sun pass through.

The giant yellow-orange rune that had been seared into the ground had since faded, leaving only a blurred outline in its place. The more he tried to find it, the more he found it escaped his sight.

He searched the bodies for Kade. When his eyes landed on the figure he sought, he waved him over but as he neared, he realised something was wrong.

"How is he?" Kade wouldn't meet his eyes as he gestured to Ender.

"I—"

"Kade!" Nala shouted, voice breaking in the middle. "Come here."

But at the sound of her defeated tone, he shook his head, dark wavy hair shifting on his forehead. Despite Ender's unmoving body laying at her feet, he began to step away.

"I can't. I'm so sorry," he choked out, continuing to back away. He sounded strange.

"Kade," Darius started lowly, "what's wrong?"

"Make sure you tell the others I—I'm so sorry. Please—please believe me." Kade looked at Darius with his dark eyes wide and desperate.

"Sorry for what?" he whispered but he knew.

"Everything," he replied so dejectedly it brought tears to his eyes. "Everything I've done and everything I'm going to do."

Going to do?

Four figures appeared a hundred feet away, so different from the humans around them. Three Elites and the Captain at the forefront. The Captain raised his hand in beckoning.

Kade turned to follow but he spun round quickly, the setting sun illuminating his hair from behind.

"It was me," he burst out. "I was the traitor, I told the Captain of what we found and where we were headed. I sent messages to him along the way to keep him updated, I stole messenger birds, and remember Wilme, the boy from the smugglers camp? I told him to send a message to the castle, a note I wrote addressed to the Captain describing our location. The reason the Captain knew we left the city, the reason you're came, the Elites attacking us—it was all me."

"You? But—"

"Don't come after us, or he'll kill you. Please," Kade's voice trembled. "I'll see you back in hell, prince."

Before he could think to do anything or say anything, Kade had turned and ran, joining the Elites in the distance. His form changed from human to wolf as he ran.

"Kade!" he shouted but the apprentice didn't look back. "Kade!"

Sariem joined him by his side and he couldn't help himself as he hugged her tightly, discarding his sword the first instant possible. She was warm and safe and made him forget the bloodshed he'd witnessed and been a part of, but he couldn't help thinking of Kade.

"Are you okay?" she whispered against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. She hasn't seen the wolf.

He couldn't respond.

.

Ashyn heaved as she dragged herself across the forest floor, her nails and knees digging into the soft ground, and her muscles straining as the wet soil worked against her.

Her brother, her brother, her brother, her mind cried.

She'd long since lost the strength for tears and yet her face still scrunched up in anticipation for the crying. Her lungs, her ribs, her heart ached.

The place where she'd seen him fall was where she now saw Conan leaning over.

Evan, Evan, Evan, the carrion birds screeched.

She stumbled the last few steps, collapsing with a shout as she finally landed beside him. Conan knelt beside her, holding Ender's hand.

Ender had his eyes open, and he was gasping. Not because of his injury, she realised, but because of the panic in his face. "Ash," he breathed, almost inaudible.

He was positioned on his front so as to avoid pressing on the arrow in his back. She took a closer look. It had pierced his chest, so much so the arrow head poked out through the bottom of his ribs. Cloth has been pressed against it to stop the blood loss and even now, Conan still held it firmly.

"Ash, Ash, I'm sorry, I tried to be brave but I don't want to die." Tears ran down his face half pressed in the dirt. "I—I'm not ready."

Her tears somehow found a way to resupply, and burst free. "You're goddamned right, you're not. You're not going to die. I'll get—"

But there was no one to get. Who healed a healer when they couldn't heal themselves?

The only people would be those from the northern capital, more than a weeks ride away. He could barely move as it was.

"Gods, Evan, you're not going to die," she burst out, lips trembling. She traced her hand over his face, hoping he couldn't see her lies. "We're going to move to the sea, remember? With a huge fucking boat, right."

He may have smiled but it was hard to see trough the mud on his face and the tears in her screwed eyes. "With huge fucking sails."

She laughed and wept and leant forwards to kiss his forehead fiercely. "I'll even go swimming with you. And I guess Conan can come too, if he wants."

He sighed, and then shuddered suddenly, pain wracking through his face. She wanted nothing more than to take it all away, she wanted to plant the arrow in her own chest. It should be her blood feeding the ground, not his.

"We should've run away when we could've," he forced out, shuddering again.

She leaned her head against his so he couldn't see her broken face. He couldn't die, not here in a battlefield smeared with blood, with his face pressed into the mud of a land he didn't belong to. He was worth so much more than this indignity.

She was about to tell him as such but when she brought her face back up, he was staring into nothing.

She'd always said that the eyes of the dead looked a lot like when they were alive, and even now, she still half expected him to twist round and trip her over, saying, should've been faster, idiot.

But his chest didn't rise and he shot no taunts.

The realisation knocked the wind out of her. She broke down. She sobbed messily over his warm body, as if giving him her own warmth would bring him back. Her throat ached from it, and her ribs felt like they would snap.

She wanted him to wrap his arms around her in the way that meant everything was going to be alright.

She just wanted him back.

She felt her shadows materialise from her skin. She wondered for a mere second if she had the power to bring him back but instinctively she knew, the way spiders knew how to spin webs, and the way cats knew how to land of their feet, that her curse was one of death, not life.

As if she would be so lucky.

She cried over her brother's body as she had when she'd lost him the first time in the fire. Her shoulders shook so much she thought she was physically broken.

Dead, dead, dead, her dark shadows crooned.