We’ve culled the group to about a dozen guards when I feel Soren’s mind brush mine from somewhere far in the distance.
“Rhya,”he calls, his voice barely audible.“Tell me you are on that second dinghy.”
“I’m on that dinghy,”I lie, blasting an incoming volley of arrows off course with a pulse of air.
“Gods damn it, skylark, what are you thinking?”
“Cadogan was wounded.”I allow the horrific visions of his fall to furl down the bond.“They could not afford to wait any longer.”
“We’re bringing the first dinghy back for you and Penn.”
“Thanks. I don’t much fancy swimming.”
He does not seem amused.“You need to get the hell out of there.”
“I’m not sticking around for the ambiance, trust me.”
“Get up to the ramparts. Wait for us there.”His worry is palpable.“There are ships on the horizon, closing in.”
Skies.
Efnysien is close.
“Penn!” I yell. “We need to get out of here!”
But Penn is caught up in the fury of battle, his fiery temper raging out of control. I have seen him like this before; seen how he loses himself beneath the surge, how he cannot pull himself back from the brink.
I grab his arm and cling, even when he tries to shake me off. It takes a toll on my remaining strength to summon an air shield that will keep us momentarily safe from enemy fire.
“Pendefyre!” I send a sharp pulse down the bond—the strongest one I can muster without hurting him. “Listen to me. Penn, please. Look at me.”
He finally manages to focus, his flaming eyes locked on mine. He blinks slowly, the haze of battle clearing. “Rhya.”
“We have to go. Now.”
“Not until I kill her. She has to pay. For Cadogan.”
“You cannot kill her if you are dead,” I snap. “There is a ship inbound with gods only know how many men aboard.”
He stills. “Efnysien.”
Perhaps I should not have told him that. He sees it as an opportunity, not a deterrent.
“You cannot take him on alone.”
His jaw clenches. “This may be our only chance.”
“It will not be.” My fury mingles with frustration. “We will kill him, and her. But not this night.” I inhale deeply, trying to calm my thudding pulse. “Your men need you. Cadogan needs you. Who will hold them together, if you are not there?”
He stares at me, uncompromising.
Three bolts bounce off my air shield and clatter to the ground.
“I do not want to lose you,” I tell him, reaching out a hand and pressing it against his heart through the fabric of his shirt. “For once, please do not argue with me. For once…let me win in our butting of heads. Can you do that? For me?”
His eyes flare with heat and then, with sheer force of will, he locks down his scorching anger. I watch it ebb from his frame in slow degrees as he exhales, the tension leaving his stiff shoulders, the clench of his jaw relaxing slightly. He shoots one fleeting look at Melité, who has retreated into the shadows with her remaining contingent of protection, before he nods.
“Let’s go.”