Wintertide's War (Spellwood Academy Book 5) by Kate Avery Ellison

Author:Kate Avery Ellison [Ellison, Kate Avery]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2023-01-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

TRYST

KYRA STAYED CLOSE behind for once as we pelted through the Ghostbellow tunnels toward the edge of the Spellwood grounds where she said she’d seen the burned pattern on the trees. She wasn’t asking any questions, which was good, because I couldn’t think straight.

She was wrong. She had to be wrong.

Lucien hated Druisi and everything she stood for. He’d fought his entire life against the notion that he was evil, tainted by the dark court and its shadows.

He wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t throw away everything he’d worked for to support a bloodthirsty, evil queen who wanted us all dead. It made no sense.

She was wrong, damn it!

I reached the ladder that led to the surface and hoisted myself up two rungs at a time. Dirt rained onto my face as I eased open the trapdoor and shoved my head out to look. Kyra climbed up beside me, breathing heavily.

Charred earth and scorched trees surrounded us. The air smelled like charcoal and scorched copper, a familiar spell-casting scent that brought back memories of my childhood watching my uncles duel for sport. The air shimmered in the distance where the defensive spells and charms kept the invaders out, but I could see through it to the woods beyond.

Signs of a battle surrounded us, but the woods and cleared spaces were empty of life. Everyone had retreated.

Kyra climbed up beside me. Her arm pressed against mine, and I felt her shivering.

“There,” she said, pointing. “The trees. Look.”

I followed her finger and my gaze landed on a grove of pines and a charred symbol etched across them.

I ground my teeth together so hard that pain spiked through my jaw.

“There has to be a mistake.”

Kyra was quiet.

I hesitated, then hoisted myself out of the trapdoor onto the ice-encrusted dirt.

“Tryst!”

I ignored her. My pulse drummed in my head as I crossed the scorched ground with quick strides, scanning the wilderness for a familiar head crowned with antlers.

Looking for him.

The bushes rustled to my left, and someone hissed at me, “What are you doing?” I caught a glimpse of the mud-smeared face of a fellow Spellwood student, weapon in hand as he stared at me from his cover. “Get back, man. Stop. They’ll shoot you!”

I kept going as if I hadn’t heard him.

Movement flickered at the trees in the West Wood. Glints of armor flashed. They were there, out of sight. Watching me.

An arrow hissed past my shoulder and hit the ground behind me with a dull thwack, but I didn’t even flinch.

I halted at the shimmering divide of magic and bellowed, “Lucien!”

My voice echoed through the still air like a crack of thunder.

Silence flooded in its wake. The air was deadly still.

I stood, waiting, my skin itching in anticipation of the bite of an arrow. I didn’t care. Let them shoot me. I was too angry to think straight, too terrified of what Lucien might have done to be worried about myself. I could feel dozens of eyes on me as I held out my hands on either side of me to show that they were empty.

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