He places a hand on my shoulder. "And if you die or get hurt, those consequences will undo me. Do not die, Princess."
"I won't."
He finally nods. "Fine, but stay within the city walls. There's a secret way out through the mountains. Kayla will know where it is. Get them out and get to safety. I'll find you."
I consider whether I should use my horse or just run, and I decide on running. Kayla's forge isn't that far away, and I won't have time to deal with my horse.
Heavy snow falls from the sky. It crunches under my feet as I retrace the steps I took just a few hours ago.
My mind is focused as I approach the center of the city. Fen's soldiers take formation at the gates and archers line the walls. I run to Kayla's forge and fill her in on what's happening. She looks at Daison, who has dropped his tongs. "Ring the bell and alert the people," Kayla says. "We need to get everyone out."
When he's gone, she pulls a leather bag from her counter and begins filling it with bandages, vials and jars she keeps on a shelf in case of injury. "Hand me that one over there," she says, pointing to a jar filled with brown sludge on the shelf behind me. I hand it to her.
"We must hurry," she says. "Go help Daison round up the people. We must lead them through the mountain pass quickly. There is a storm brewing tonight. If we aren't fast enough, we will be snowed in." She shoves the bag at me as she fills another one. "Keep this with you, just in case."
I take it from her. "I'm on it!" I run out and find Daison.
He rings the city bell and yells for people to hurry. "We haven't much time. Raiders are coming!"
That gets them moving faster, and buzz begins to spread. The Fae from the Outlands are here. They are here to kill and steal and rape.
To hurry things along, I go door to door, sharing the news as quickly as possible, helping pack when needed, carrying babies and guiding young children while their parents pack. As I do, I get small glimpses into these cloistered lives. I see the things they value most and the things they are willing to leave behind to burn, if it comes to that. They are a practical people, for the most part, choosing food, clothing, bedding, but almost everyone also has a sentimental item or two they can't leave behind. A special book, a cherished piece of jewelry. One woman brought her husband's old shaving kit, though he's been dead for many years now. "I can't leave it behind," she told me. "It still smells of him."
I can't bear to think this magical crystal city might be gone by nightfall, if Fen and his soldiers can't keep the raiders out. And I realize I don't understand war at all. I don't understand fighting and bloodshed and the need to kill others who are different from you. I know the Fae see themselves as the heroes of their own stories. We all do, don't we? But how can they justify what they are about to do? This village isn't full of soldiers. It's full of normal everyday people. Families just trying to get through their lives.
Kayla leads a long line of people towards the side of the castle. There, behind a waterfall, lies the mountain passage. I run up to the blacksmith, out of breath. In the distance, the sounds of battle thunder. The clash of steel. The last screams of dying men.
"Where's Daison?" Kayla asks.
"I thought he was with you? I was helping others prepare to evacuate."
She pauses, as people pass by her into the side of the mountain. It's snowing again, and the wind is blowing more forcefully than before. The cold chills me through my cloak and clothing, and I shiver, startled at how fast the storm is growing.
"We have to get out of here," she says. "I'm going to find Daison. You lead everyone."
She turns to leave, but I grab her hand. "Kayla, I don't know the way. Only you do. I'll find Daison, and we'll catch up to you. He's probably just helping someone pack."
I see the indecision in her eyes, but she relents, knowing I'm right. "Ari, please find him."
"I will. See you soon."
I run back towards the city just as burning arrows fly over the wall and land in bushes and barns and houses. Fires begin to rage out of control.
I run faster, calling for Daison, worry gnawing at me the longer it takes to find him.
Flames rise up around me. Smoke chokes me. I pull my shirt over my mouth and keep looking for the boy.
"Daison! Where are you?"
I hear a moan from behind and turn around. A pile of burning wood. A foot sticking out. "Daison!"
I look around for something I can use to move the rubble without burning myself, and settle on a wooden plank near a half finished house. I grab the board, a rusty nail digging into my skin. I ignore the pain, and rush back to Daison. All around me is chaos. Fire. Smoke. The smell of burning flesh.