Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(15)

I look up as there’s a change in sound. There’s been a steady noise above us for hours, but the army hasn’t broken camp until now. It must take a long time to move so many people.

“We still have a few more hours until dark,” Hamish groans, rolling onto his back. I shrug. Better than dying.

“We knew this was a possibility.” I stop talking as Hamish spasms.

“Willow,” he chokes. I sit up.

“What is it?” I search his face.

“I’m an idiot,” he mutters to himself. “The pathway goes above where we are.” My entire body tightens in disbelief.

He twists from side to side, examining our position. “The army will march underneath and up to the islands on our right side. Those islands are positioned before the supports we’ve destroyed.” he says, pointing over to his right and up slightly. “They’ll have a perfect view of us from up there. We need to move.”

I swear long and quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Hamish says. I shake my head at him.

“Not your fault. But you can feel bad once we survive this,” I say, looking around me. The island is flat, unusually so. I curse our luck at being on the only part of the Oscala without a place to hide. Most islands have caves and cliffs. A small raised bit of rock opposite us would hide most of Jimmy, but nothing else.

My mind rattles.

“They’re two islands away,” calls Jimmy from the edge. Hamish drags him back by his feet.

“Jimmy, for once in your life do as you’re bloody told,” Hamish growls.

“I can see some of the soldiers!” the boy exclaims.

“Get down. Now,” I snap, at the limits of my patience.

We listen to the bustle fully surrounding us. “The stream of guards will be constant,” Hamish says. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to wait until full darkness,” he says.

“We hold as long as we can,” I say. “Get your Soar on.” I do the same, trying to stay low while I strap the contraption in place.

I curse the person who alerted the army to our presence by dropping the support. We were so close to getting away. Two more islands and we would’ve had enough cover to return to the Ire, even with the noise.

“The sky’s starting to dim,” Hamish says.

“Is it?” I ask. I couldn’t discern any great difference.

“Slightly, but it will soon become dark this deep into the pathway,” he says. I remember how dark it was for the middle two weeks of our trip. Though I hadn’t been particularly observant during that time— too absorbed in my grief.

I look at the island to our left. It’s lower and close by. It would take a matter of a few seconds to reach it. I could count on most people’s eyes being fixed on their feet. I remember how mine had rarely left the pathway. Gazing at the Oscala scenery was the kind of oversight which could mean your life. It took one stumble or slip to put you over the edge. We need to move now, before the Solati reach the elevated island! But how many Solati would see us? It would only take one clear sighting by a respected soldier to ruin everything.

A yell goes up, then another. It’s like a repeat of the morning, when the sentries heard the foreign sound. Yelling moves throughout the pathway until it tracks underneath us. An entire army marches there. I know if the islands were connected, they’d be shaking with the force of the soldier’s movement.

“We have to move now,” I decide.

“We should wait for darkness,” Hamish stutters.

“No. The longer we wait, the more likely they’ll encircle and see us.” I shuffle the wings beside me. I realize we should’ve gone hours ago.

“The Solati will see us!” he hisses. “And Adox will kill us.”

“Better one person see us and think they’re crazy, than a whole army see us and know they’re sane. Adox will understand,” I give him an unflinching gaze. “We move now.” I turn to Jimmy. “Jimmy, you’re going with Hamish.”

We crawl to the far edge of the island.

I grip Hamish’s arm. “If they see you, they’ll shoot you down. Go quickly.” He nods grimly, strapping Jimmy in front of him.

The shouts swell as the unbroken chain of Solati soldiers pass a command between them. We must act.

I look over the side, blanching at the steady trail of soldiers winding upwards. They’re my people, but right now we’re enemies.

I take a steadying breath and look into Hamish’s pale face. “In three. One … two … three!”

I push forward and throw myself over the side. There isn’t a chorus of alarm from the soldiers, like I expect. Or maybe I’m too focused to hear.

I jerk on the bar of my Soar, having just passed the first island. Hamish and Jimmy are in front of me, nearly safe. Could we make it out of this undetected?

Someone shouts and fear punches me deep in the gut.

With dreadful, stupid curiosity, I tilt the Soar to look behind me. In the next few moments, although the Soar continues to glide forward, my body seizes in absolute, all-consuming terror. Because there, standing at the edge of the island above me, two men flanking him, is Cassius.

My nightmare.

He looks just as I remember. My mother’s male counterpart. His long chestnut hair is pulled into a severe tie at the back. He still wears robes, likely too conceited to believe Glacium’s garments to be superior in the cold. But his expression. His face has featured in every horrifying childhood experience I’ve ever had, and several since. That expression is always with me, somewhere.