Season of Glory (23 page)

He continued to try and make me circle, hoping that I would trip or give him my own
open flank, but I refused him. I feinted left, then left again, then right, and spotted
my opportunity. He brought up his sword just a moment late as I brought my own down
across his neck, dealing him a blow that would kill him in seconds. I leaped away
and dared to glance about, wondering whom I would encounter next and how Ronan fared,
when a blinding bolt of lightning came down and struck the helicopter.

I ducked and rotated to my left, sprinting away after seeing the helicopter tilting
sideways, the engine faltering. It sounded like it was falling.

It took about five paces before I realized I couldn't see anything, that I was crashing
through the brush, blind.
The lightning.

I cried out, blinking, seeing nothing but white light as the hair on the back of
my neck and arms stood on end. “Ronan!” I shouted, reaching out toward where I thought
he'd been last. But my shout was lost among the fierce, howling wind and roar of
the helicopter, clearly struggling to stay aloft. I crouched, feeling the welcoming
ferns and praying that I was somewhat shielded by trees. If my enemies knew I was
weakened so . . .

Awful sounds of crunching metal and splintering wood filled my ears. I heard men
cry out and scream, from above and below, and covered the back of my neck with my
hands, wondering if the helicopter was coming down directly on top of me. I braced
for impact. On and on it went, metal sounding as if it was bending, breaking, the
whump-whump-whump
of the blades slowing, cracking against trees. Finally, I heard
the machine hit the forest floor and come to a rest. After the cacophony of noise,
even the fierce wind sounded like silence.

I held my breath. Seconds later, there was the sound of battle resuming, at least
in three locations. Shouts, grunts, and swearing. I blinked and blinked again, praying
desperately that my vision would return. Half of me waited for a sword to slice through
my neck or belly, or an arrow to pierce my heart. I crouched down, never having felt
as vulnerable as this in my entire life. Even when I'd been taken captive by Sethos
and Keallach . . . to not be able to see . . .

I squinted, praying the Maker's name over and over, desperately trying to think
of his wing covering me. I kept holding my breath, trying to listen, to be able
to anticipate and protect myself from others who might be coming after me. This inevitably
led me to hyperventilating. Where was Ronan? I didn't dare cry out, in case my enemies
were closer than my Knight. But where was he? How far was he from me?

I got even lower, splaying my hands out, reaching, and finding fern stalk after fern
stalk. Apparently, I was below the giant fronds, which was probably why I still lived.
I vacillated between continuing to move or staying still, praying that no one would
come across me, hidden among the forest's deep undergrowth.

Bullets riddled the air, and I put my cheek to the damp soil, listening, listening.
I thought of other ways we listened, saw and remembered seeing angels alongside Vidar,
as well as demons, wraiths. I dug my fingers into the loamy earth, reaching for a
connection with Vidar, desperate to see what he could. For a moment, I could see
nothing but the ghostly white blur that had filled my eyes since the lightning struck,
but then shapes began to take form . . . all dark.

I held my breath, nearly passing out as one black form after another flashed before
my blind eyes. At first I thought them all Sheolite, or wraiths, or demons in human
form. But gradually, I began to note nuances between them. There were angels and
demons among the forest for certain—I could see them all in fuzzy silhouette—but
those of the Dark had grotesque growths along their necks and upper backs, like mushrooms
growing among the crevices of trees. When they turned, battling the angelic beings
that now ringed me, protecting me, I could clearly make them out.

Gunfire sounded; men cried out. Maybe one woman too? I prayed Vidar was getting closer
to me, noting the presence of heavenly forces here. Wouldn't he be drawn to them?
A shiver ran across my shoulders, and I fought the urge to stand up, to edge closer
to the heavenly soldiers that battled for my safety. But I knew I had to stay engaged
in the here and now, the present, the earthly.

Because my earthly adversaries were still numerous.

The trouble was, as I remained hidden from my adversaries, I also remained hidden
from my friends. Would the Ailith be able to feel their way toward me?

A roar sounded over the ridge, and I bit my lip until it bled, refusing to cry out,
no matter how great my fear. The Pacificans and Sheolites surged as one, their black
allies among them. In seconds, I would be overcome.

“Dri!” I heard Ronan call. But he was far away. So far away . . .

I dared not respond.

“Andriana,” whispered someone much closer to me. Within ten paces.

“Andriana,” he repeated, and then I knew him, both by presence and voice.

“Ke-Keallach?” I choked out in a whisper.

“Over here, behind the tree,” he said, his voice barely reaching me. “Come this way.”

I paused, considering. Was it a trap? Some trick of the mind?

“I can't,” I said, clenching new fistfuls of soil in my palms. “I can't see.”

“You can't
see
?”

“The lightning—the helicopter,” I whispered. “I'm blind!”

KEALLACH

I paused.
Blind
. She couldn't see. For the moment, a warrior, but completely vulnerable.

I could take her, now. Lead her away from all of this. To safety. I wouldn't have
my brother, but at least I'd have Dri. And maybe in time there'd be an opportunity
to encourage Kapriel to join us.

Was this it? Truly my only chance to win one of them?

No. It was too soon. And there were things here, among them . . . things of the Ailith
and the Community that I so wanted to know.

I stopped short. Things I wanted to know for the good of the empire? Or for me?

The Way was powerful. Being here, among them . . . as much as I wanted Dri, I had
to admit, I wanted to be in the Community more. Fully accepted. To know what it meant
to be a bonded Remnant, with the ceremonial cuff on my arm . . . and my gifting in
full force. I wanted to know what it was to use my gifts as high gifts, rather than
the low gifts that Sethos had trained me to use. To know power, as part of the larger
Body, rather than in mine alone.

My eyes focused on Dri again, among the ferns. To do this, I'd have to think of her
only as my sister, not my love.

My sister. My
sister
.

ANDRIANA

“Keallach?” I whispered, terrified that he'd left me. But I thought I sensed him
nearby. Why was he hesitating?

We fell silent. Not ten paces away, men surged past us, closing in on my Ailith
kin in the protected alcove. Startled, I found that while I could see nothing else,
I seemed to be able to see those of the light and those of the dark, at least in
silhouette.
Ironic
, I thought.
In blindness, I see fully for the first time.
Was
this what it was like to be Vidar? To have his second sight?

Two turned my way, as if they'd sensed me. I froze.

The two shook their heads and moved on, chasing after the others before them. Had
Keallach compelled them onward, away from me?

Sounds of gunfire rattled in the distance. For a moment, the forest grew quiet about
us.

Keallach reached me at last, falling to his knees. “Dri?” He took my hand. “Can you
really not see?”

“Keallach,” I said, confusion warring in my heart. It was such a relief to not be
alone, but of all the people who might've come to my aid—“How did you get free?”

“We have bigger things to worry about,” he said, squeezing my hand harder. I heard
him turn, as if looking about and scouting an escape route.

“Tell me!” I insisted in a frantic whisper. “How did you get free?”

I felt his agitation, then his anger at me questioning him. “I willed a guard to
do so. When I saw the helicopter come down, yet heard the ongoing battle, I couldn't
bear it any longer. I had to come to your aid. All of you,” he added hurriedly.

“And yet it is me you are with,” I said dully.

“I found you first. And you're alone. The others have one another.”

“And Ronan?” I asked tightly.

“He's alive. Searching for you. But Niero dragged him off, narrowly keeping him from
becoming surrounded.”

“Can you help get me back to the others? There will be more Pacificans and Sheolites
coming this way. If we can find Tressa, maybe she can heal me.” Again, I waited and
wondered if this would be when he confessed, told me the truth—that this was all
a ruse and he was dragging me back to Palace Pacifica.

“We'll find her, Dri,” he said, his tone bearing an oath.

I swallowed my surprise.

“Come,” he said, gripping my hand, helping me rise. “It's good timing now. Hurry.”

I hesitated.

“Dri? Come on! We have to move!”

Still, I waited. And I felt like everything came to a standstill about me.

As if this was a moment of decision I'd remember forever.

“Keallach . . .” I said breathlessly, looking up and about at the angels with their
backs to us and then to this . . . brother. They'd
let
him in. Let him come beside
me. “The truth. You must tell me the truth.” I covered his hand with my other, focusing
everything on reading him. “Did you really come to answer the Call? After all this
time? Have you really turned away from everything—and everyone—in Pacifica?” A shiver
ran down my neck remembering Lord Jala, Fenris, and the others.

He took a deep breath. His grip changed as his hand settled more fully between mine,
and then he laid his other on top. “Search me, Dri,” he said urgently. “
Know
me.
You tell me if I am your brother or your enemy.”

I did, then. I reached out, and in that moment, it was as if we were in the old days
and I could give him an X-ray, from head to toe, and see his emotions on that film.
And what I saw was commitment. Connection. Love. Hope. Passion.

I took another breath. And then I squeezed his hand.

“Get me to Tressa, Keallach,” I said.

“I will,” he promised.

CHAPTER
25

ANDRIANA

T
he storm was still swirling overhead. I could smell the mingled aroma of rain and
lightning
on
the wind, but no rain fell. The winds were fierce, though, threatening at times to
tear Keallach and me apart and making it hard to breathe. Clearly, Kapriel was using
it as a weapon against those who closed in on the Ailith at the outcropping, sending
gales in every direction. When I fell for the third time, Keallach grabbed hold
of me and pulled me close, shouting in my ear. “It's no use! We can't get to them
this way! We have to go around!”

I nodded and followed him, glad to be able to take a breath when we gained some distance.
“Can you get me to Ronan, at least?” I asked. “He'll endanger himself looking for
me.”

Keallach hesitated. “Do you sense that, over there where they are? That's them, isn't
it?”

I turned and looked over my shoulder. I still could only see a pearlescent landscape,
a blank page, with no bodies—angelic
or demonic—in view. But that wasn't what he
meant. He meant I could sense the Ailith, as he could too. And he was right. In one
direction was a fierce concentration of them—likely Kapriel and the rest—and in the
other was likely Ronan, Niero, and Chaza'el. The trouble was that there were also
strong numbers of our adversaries in both directions.

“I know that you came out here to fight,” Keallach said, pushing hair back from my
face.

I stiffened at his touch, and he dropped his hand.

“But Ronan would want you safe. And to trudge into either of those battles would
do nothing but endanger you. You bear a weakness in feeling everyone's emotions as
your own—you've learned to deal with that. But are you really ready to go in blind?”

“I don't know,” I whispered, utterly confused as to what was wise.

Just thinking about nearing our enemies felt foolish and paralyzing. I'd come so
close to being killed in the woods. If it hadn't been for Keallach . . .

“You're trembling,” he said, his voice tender. Compassion swirled through him, and
sensing that in him made me want to cry. “Come here,” he said, pulling me close.

I entered the circle of his arms reluctantly, stiffly, but gradually relaxed. He
stood with his back to the full force of the wind, and we leaned against a tree.
Protected on two sides, I felt the first measure of hope I'd felt in some time.

“Are you cold?” he asked, rubbing my back a little.

“No,” I said, pulling a little away and rubbing my eyes. “It's only this blindness.
It's terrifying.” I turned and looked outward, willing my vision to return, praying
that the Maker would restore it.

I can't fight without sight, Maker.

You are blind?
Raniero's voice cut into my mind like a burst of sunlight entering
a dark cave. I'd forgotten! Since the accident, I'd forgotten one of the best tools
the Maker had given us—this means to communicate.

You have what you need within you, Andriana. It has nothing to do with what your
body can or cannot do. Where are you? We'll come to you.

My first thought was panic. Defense. If Niero and Ronan found Keallach with me .
. .
I'm safe. I can't see, but I have . . . a guide. Tell Ronan I'm safe. I will
meet you at the Citadel.

Stay where you are. Kapriel is turning the Pacificans back. Together, we are sending
the Sheolites away. We'll come for you if you can just remain hidden for a bit longer.