Bloodleaf (Bloodleaf #1)(91)

“Be calm,” Kellan said under his breath. “They take their cues from you. If you’re confident, so will they be.”

“I’m worried,” I said. “It’s taking too long. And who knows what could happen to—?”

“To Zan?” Kellan finished.

I looked at my hands. “Yes. Kellan, listen. I haven’t gotten a chance yet to thank you for coming back for me. And to tell you that I am so sorry about Falada. She served me well until the end.”

“Then she did what I could not do.”

“Kellan, don’t—?”

He collapsed the spyglass. “I was given one charge: to keep you safe. And at the very first test, I failed you. I’m no longer worthy to be your protector.”

I studied his face. It was still handsome, despite a few new scars and deepened shadows beneath his eyes. “I don’t need a protector, Kellan. I can take care of myself,” I said, and knew at once that it was both true and likely difficult for Kellan to come to terms with. “I need a friend and ally. In return I can offer unending aggravation. If you’re interested in that sort of thing.” I gave a wry shrug. “It’s a much better deal, really. You should take it.”

He smiled, just a little. “Do I have to keep getting stabbed all the time?”

“I can’t say you won’t,” I said. “Hope that’s not a deal breaker. Here,” I said, placing a small object in his hand. “I want you to have this.”

He looked at it, puzzled. “A charm from your bracelet?”

“The gryphon is noble and loyal,” I said. “This one was lost to me for a while. But somehow, miraculously, I got it back.” I cleared my throat. “It seems appropriate that you have it.”

He closed his fingers over the gryphon, but before he could reply, there were sounds farther down the wall—?shouts and crashes. Kellan lifted the glass and turned to scan the wall again. “That’s it. Our cue.”

Toris’s guards stationed on the wall all started running toward High Gate.

“Let’s go,” Kellan said.

All ten of us rushed across the open space and stopped at the foot of the wall to secure their grappling ropes to their hooks.

“Do you all have your invitations with you?” I asked. “Bring them out. Since you can’t climb and hold the invitations, it is my recommendation that you put it somewhere secure, and touching your skin.”

As I went from soldier to soldier, I continued, “Even with the weakening of the wall, crossing will likely be extremely unpleasant. Which means you don’t want it to catch you while you’re still on the rope. I will go up first, so that I can steady Kellan from above. Then we, in turn, will steady two more of you as you go up, and so on until we’re all past the border.”

“You ready?” Kellan asked, and I set my jaw and gave him a determined nod. He and the others gave their rope-threaded hooks several synchronized swings, and they all flew high over the wall and caught. Kellan tugged on the rope to make sure it was stable, securing one end around me and knotting the other around himself. With him anchoring and belaying me from below, I was hoisted up and over the battlements with little difficulty. Then I gave Kellan the all-clear signal; it was time for him to follow me up.

He had made it two-thirds of the way up the rope when the lines from the invitation’s bloodmark began branching up his neck like lightning. He cried out, and I yelled, “Don’t let go! You have to get over. Don’t stop. Come on!”

Somehow he managed to climb the rest of the way, even as the searing lines of magic traveled under his skin and into his blood. I pulled him over and held him as he thrashed in pain. When it was over, he lay prostrate on the wall’s walk, breathing heavily. “I thought being stabbed and falling off a cliff was unpleasant. I was wrong.”

“We’ve got to help the others,” I said.

The next two cadets had a similar experience to Kellan’s, but the third began convulsing before he even made it halfway up.

“Hang in there, Warren!” Kellan called. “Keep going!”

The cadet lasted for another fifteen feet before the pain became too much and he let go with a scream, landing with a sickeningly liquid thud on the ground below.

I wanted to look away, but I forced myself to bear witness to his death—?he was one of my soldiers, here at my request. I owed him that dignity. His spirit materialized beside his body, and looked up at me on the wall. “Thank you for your service, Lieutenant Warren,” I whispered. “I won’t forget your sacrifice.”

He gave me a ghostly salute and was gone.

The remaining six soldiers stared at their fallen friend with grim faces.

“There’s got to be a way,” I said. “There’s got to be a way to make it easier.”

As I drew my knife, Kellan said, “What are you doing?”

“Whatever I can,” I replied, before drawing a quick line across both of my palms. I felt the magic inside me stir. “Tell them to climb. All of them. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to do this.”

“Do what?” he asked, but I had already knelt and pressed my palms to the stone of the wall.

The magical current whirring in an endless loop inside the wall seemed to eddy at my touch, humming as if it recognized me. I allowed the magic passage through me, as if I were just another part of the conduit, and began to stretch my perception to where my soldiers were ascending. There I pulled back on the current, letting the magic part and swirl around them, like rocks in a river stream. It strained against my hold, and I began to sweat and pant with the exertion.