They caught up to the unit quickly, however; five agile faeries moved faster than thirty heavily armed soldiers.
Keshel flicked his long, thin fingers. An invisible barrier surrounded the soldiers and the fae, trapping them in a confined space. Easy targets with nowhere to run.
For a moment, the unit kept walking, unaware, until the front of the line bumped into the barrier, a solid creation from Keshel’s magic. Confusion and curses traveled up and down the ranks.
“What’s the fucking hold up?” called one soldier to the front.
A man put out a hand. It lay flat against an invisible wall.
The Lady Butcher charged from the tree line and severed the soldier’s arm. Marai proceeded to swipe across his neck. He didn’t have time to scream.
The phantom of death was upon them.
Her sword sailed, whistling in the air, slicing through anything in her path. Tacorn soldiers leapt into action. Like a swarm of furious bees, they surrounded Marai. Swords chopped and jabbed. Marai danced away from the blades, all too slow to make contact.
As the soldiers closed in, she gathered her magic into a ball of burning light inside her. A wave of magic burst from Marai’s hands, spewing dust into the air. Marai’s ears popped at the concussive sound as the impact knocked soldiers off their feet.
She’d transformed Keshel’s defensive barrier into a weapon.
The other fae joined. Silver blades cleaved through the mass of black. Marai heard the whoosh and thunk of Raife’s arrows sinking into flesh. Orange flames engulfed soldiers. Their screams echoed through the trees, causing birds to screech and fly off. Leif’s fire ravaged a whole row of men.
A blur appeared at Marai’s side. Nosficio’s face grinned back at her.
“I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” he asked, then grabbed hold of a soldier and brought his teeth to his neck. A moment later, Nosficio ripped off the man’s head. Crimson blood poured from his mouth, down his chin, and onto his velvet cape.
Marai didn’t bat an eyelash at the savagery.
Keshel erected more barriers, sectioning off the soldiers into smaller groups. Aresti called forth a wind, blowing a line of soldiers over onto their backs. Down the line she went, plunging her short swords into the gaps in their armor as they struggled to rise. Wind fed Leif’s flames, spreading them across the road, engulfing men in a whirlwind of fire.
It felt good to be the Butcher again. There was a sense of rightness to this moment. Marai’s breath was as calm as still water. Her mind wholly focused on this one task. For the first time in a day, Marai wasn’t thinking about Ruenen’s mouth or his body or his hands. It was just her and death and gore.
She became their nightmare.
The bloodstone ring pulsed, tightening around her finger, urging her onwards. This is your purpose, it seemed to say. The cursed object savored every drop of human blood spilt.
More soldiers, another thirty or so men, came barreling up the road. A second unit. Reinforcements.
Damn.
“Lower the barrier and pull back,” Marai shouted to Keshel.
He stared at her, at the carnage on the road. Keshel’s face was emotionless, but his eyes betrayed him. They simmered with terror and regret and repulsion. For a moment, Marai thought he’d frozen, but then she felt his magic disappear around her. “Fall back!”
Leif, Raife, Aresti, and Nosficio leapt into the safety of the woods where Keshel still remained. Body parts littered the ground; men lay bleeding, screaming, like those innocent children in Gloaw Crana had. The surviving soldiers were scattered about, trying to reform their ranks as the new unit joined them. Horses reared and ran from the fray. Pandemonium.
Now vastly outnumbered, Marai had no choice but to unleash everything she had.
The charge vibrated through her body, electric and wild. The ring glowed, sensing her power and purpose. She didn’t repress it, nor did she shy away. Marai let the magic rush as she pulled from the deep well inside her.
The road came alive with bright white light. Streaks of lightning snaked across the path. Marai closed her eyes, letting magic do its work. She heard the screams, the curses, the crackling of lightning as it whipped past her ears.
Soon, the only sound she heard was a long whistle from Nosficio in the woods. She opened her eyes, revealing the devastation before her: piles of ash, trees in flame, thick burning scars etched into their bark, and black scorch marks across the dirt.
“Fucking Unholy Underworld, Marai,” Aresti said as Marai fell to a knee, lightheaded.
Not a single soldier remained alive.
Aresti swallowed; her bloody hands trembled. Raife’s freckles turned white as they observed the aftermath of Marai’s calamitous power, and Leif gagged, then vomited into the dirt. Marai breathed deeply until she found the strength to stand again.
The only one unaffected was Nosficio, who stepped over an ash pile with a chuckle. “I told you, didn’t I? You’re stronger than I thought.”
Keshel remained in the tree line. He stared and stared at Marai. Then back to the ash and pools of blood.
“Kadi was right . . . I remember the slaughter from when I was a child, but I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it,” said Raife, his voice hoarse.
I hope you never have to, Marai thought sadly, watching the others deal with this death. Gentle hearts. That makes you all better people than me.
“How did you do this for eight years, Marai?” Raife asked, staring at her with questions and anguish and revulsion in his face.
She hated that expression, especially from someone she cared about. It made her feel unworthy. Dirty. “I killed for survival before. But this is different, I am different. I do what must be done, because I have people I need to protect.”
Marai remembered Kadiatu’s words back in the Badlands.
“Because even when you’re afraid, you stand up for what you believe in. Because you make the hard decisions, even if it means others judge you for them. You chose to stay here and protect us. If that doesn’t show true strength, I don’t know what does.”
Maybe Marai should have felt guilty for not feeling guilty, but this carnage altered nothing inside her. She did her duty for her new kingdom. She’d saved lives by taking lives. But maybe once this war was done, when Ruenen and her people were safe, she could become something more . . . someone worthy.
Leif dropped his sword and stumbled over to a nearby tree, the bark still smoldering. He crouched down and took several sporadic, deep breaths, covering his face with his hands.
