Long May She Reign(98)

Some of Sten’s men faltered, and I let myself smile. My spies had done their work. They were unsettled, ready to believe.

There was another flash of light. Thunder rumbled overhead. I glanced up, but there were no rainclouds, and no rain fell. As I watched, another sheet of lightning leaped across the sky.

I felt a rush of excitement. Rainless sheet lightning. Possible, of course, but rare. I sent a silent prayer to anyone who might be listening, nature or the Forgotten or the flukes of science, for the intervention in my favor. Some of my enemies might see through the prisms and the framing of the dawn light, but rainless lightning in the sky . . . that was harder to dismiss. Even my stomach leaped as thunder rolled again, thinking that maybe the Forgotten were here after all, maybe they had chosen me.

It was irrational. I knew that. But it seemed so perfect, and it would help my performance to have at least a flicker of belief.

Sten’s army was close now. He was on horseback at the head of the group, looking as determined as ever, while a group of men beside him hauled a fallen tree as a battering ram. But his troops did not seem so passionate now, not when faced with me, surrounded by light, not when rainless lightning continued to flash across the sky.

“Freya!” Sten shouted. “There is still a chance for you to surrender.”

I bit back my response. Silence was best. More intimidating. And if Sten’s men took a few more steps . . .

Warning arrows flew at the walls, but none of them struck their targets. Archery had been nothing more than a sport for too long for the army to aim true. I didn’t flinch. The men continued to march, but they moved slower now, with more caution. Their conviction seemed to waver. My tricks were working.

They moved closer still, and their boots collided with the spots in the long grass where metal and powder had been concealed, pressing them together, triggering a reaction. For a long breath, nothing happened, as the men strode ahead. Maybe my design hadn’t worked, maybe it wouldn’t work . . .

Then the men yelled in shock as purple smoke exploded from the grass.

It had been Naomi’s idea, based on the one failed experiment that had started it all. Aluminum and iodine, combined to create colored smoke that looked like magic. It had taken a little ingenuity to time it right, though. The dew on the grass would act as the water needed in the reaction, but they could not be allowed to mix too early. So my spies had placed fragile, dangerously thin pieces of glass between the aluminum and the iodine. When the soldiers stepped on them, the glass would shatter, the chemicals would mix, and I would get the spectacle I needed.

And if any soldiers stumbled when the glass gave way, well . . . that might help, too.

Some of the horses reared, and the soldiers yelled, too, stopping where they stood. Another moment, and the concoctions burst into flames, sparks flying into the air along with the smoke.

Then the final part of my plan fell into place, and phantoms danced on the smoke clouds again. They were less defined now that sunlight surrounded them, but they haunted the soldiers still, lurching shadows, vengeful gods returned.

My own archers sent a barrage of arrows onto the field. Another sheet of lightning flashed across the sky.

“Surrender!” I yelled. “And the Forgotten will have mercy.”

I couldn’t see if my words had any effect. The soldiers might not even have heard me. The air was too full of smoke and fire now, the sound of soldiers yelling and coughing. Those who attempted to run through the chaos would find their eyes streaming, their chests tightening. They could not charge while they struggled to breathe.

I searched the field for Sten, but he had vanished in the smoke and fire.

Still I stood, listening to the shouts. Men emerged from the chaos, moving away from the city, running, dropping their weapons on the ground as they went. The first few were men on my side, hidden among the ramshackle army to inspire cowardice in others, but more followed, and more, scrambling to escape that immortal wrath.

One man on horseback whirled around, galloping after the fleeing men. And once that noble had broken ranks, all of his men broke with him, the already disorganized army scrambling over themselves to get away.

“Your Majesty.” Holt stood in the gate tower, just out of sight. I did not turn to look at him. “You should come back now. Where it’s safe.”

“No. I have to stay here.” I had to watch my fears play out. Many of the men who’d emerged from the smoke now fell to their knees, staring up at me, a mix of terror and awe in their eyes.

Then the rain came. A downpour, bursting out of nowhere. The raindrops hit a few uncatalyzed spots of iodine and aluminum, creating more bursts of purple smoke and flame. If anyone believed the rain was for Sten, that smoke would disabuse them of those hopes.

As the smoke cleared, I saw Sten, standing at the edge of the chaos, refusing to surrender but unable to proceed as the Forgotten came down around him. Someone was standing in front of him, shouting at him, gesturing with a sword—

Fitzroy. He’d been out in the field? I hadn’t told him he could join the battle. My stomach twisted in fear, but he was unharmed, shouting at Sten. Telling him to surrender.

I stepped off the side of the wall. “I wish to go down there,” I said to Holt.

“Your Majesty—”

I nodded at him and descended the stairs. The city gates swung open, guards standing alert on either side as I stepped onto the field of ash and fear.