Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller

Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller

Author:Linsey Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2019-12-05T00:00:00+00:00


Fifteen

Emilie

The Stareaters scattered first, a red stain against the blue sky. I looked up and paused, and Rainier stopped behind me. It was late afternoon, sunlight and shadows stretching across the field where we had newly camped at the western edge of Segance, and the noonday arts shifted around me, as if a great hole had opened and was draining them away. I followed the tug and turned east. Rainier touched my arm.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You don’t feel that?” I gathered a bit of power, channeled it through my heart to get it used to the rhythm, and sent my awareness out with it through the air and over the hill of tall grass. “Someone is channeling a lot of power.”

Rainier and I were the only two at this edge of camp, save for the soldiers guarding it a little ways out. We had been in need of quiet, Sébastien and Charles tired and touchy after their days spent healing Waleran du Ferrant during fights so he could continue, and Rainier and I had a few free moments before our next shift in the infirmary. The shift in the noonday arts hummed in my bones, low and deep like distant thunder, and I shoved Rainier behind me. The hum built to a whistle, the air around us tight with power.

“Someone’s fighting,” I said. “Someone’s using the noonday arts near the camp line.”

“Fuck,” Rainier muttered and grabbed my hand. “Come on.”

We sprinted down the hill and into the thick patch of woods stretching before us, gathering power as we ran, and we crashed through a thin stream run through with blood and dirt. I hadn’t thought to bring my bangle for scrying. Rainier turned upstream, and I followed. Shouts echoed through the woods.

And died.

Ahead of us, power condensed. Rainier sidestepped and so did I. A volley of arrows gilded with the fighting arts cut through where we had been, and the trees they hit burned from the inside out, the fire contained to their outer bark. I could feel the world unsettling here, hearts speeding up, veins tearing open, and Rainer stumbled into a copse ahead of me. A group of twelve Thornish soldiers had attacked the squad of soldiers sent out to scout. They’d been chased into this clearing.

Rainier started healing the soldiers before taking cover. The magic hooked into the skin of the nearest soldier, transformed the arrow in his chest into clean water, and healed the wound. Rainier wiped the sweat from his forehead.

One of the Thornes whipped to us, their hands empty of weapons, and hurled a small bead. The magic Rainier had been gathering snapped.

We were used to it by now.

Rainier pulled himself to his feet and followed my lead. We both sucked in aching breaths. I threw out a web of power, found a cut on the Thorne’s hand, and sent him to sleep. The other soldiers, Deme and Thorne, finally noticed we were there. Rainier grabbed the nearest Deme soldier and dragged him away. His broken ankle snapped back into place.



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