Tag: fantasy

Gideon the Ninth

The Emperor needs Necromancers.
The Ninth Necromancer needs a swordswoman.
Gideon has a sword, some dirty magazines, and no more time for undead nonsense.

Brought up by unfriendly, ossifying nuns, ancient retainers, and countless skeletons, Gideon is ready to abandon a life of servitude and an afterlife as a reanimated corpse. She packs up her sword, her shoes, and her dirty magazines, and prepares to launch her daring escape.

Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Reverend Daughter of the Ninth House and bone witch extraordinaire, has been summoned into action. The Emperor has invited the heirs to each of his loyal Houses to a deadly trial of wits and skill. If Harrowhark succeeds she will become an immortal, all-powerful servant of the Resurrection, but no necromancer can ascend without their cavalier. Without Gideon’s sword, Harrow will fail, and the Ninth House will die.

Of course, some things are better left dead.

*****

This isn’t going to have a happy ending, is it?

I’ve had my copy of ‘Gideon the Ninth’ for years, but I always put off reading it. I’m not entirely sure why. Perhaps I just wasn’t ready for lesbian necromancers exploring a haunted gothic castle in space. Or perhaps I knew that this book (and probably series) would completely break me. Now that I’ve finally read it, I think it might have been the latter.

When we first meet Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus, they hate each other. Gideon is trying to escape from the Ninth House, and Harrow is intent on stopping her. It’s unclear at first why they hate each other, but as readers, we get to see their relationship progress in a beautiful, artful way. For me, this book is the epitome of “enemies to lovers”. The two women go from being willing to kill each other to get what they want, to Harrow telling Gideon: “I am undone without you.” I have to confess that that one line broke me a little. But what broke me even more was the pool scene (I’ll speak about this later).
Gideon is trying to escape, to reach the Cohort and fight on the front lines. Even after reading the book, I’m still not sure what the Cohort is fighting, but that doesn’t matter in relation to the plot and I’m sure that at some point, the rest of the books will delve into this. Gideon is waiting for a shuttle that will take her far away from the Ninth House when she’s accosted by Harrow, who refuses to let her leave. Instead, she dangles Gideon’s freedom in front of her, telling the other woman that if she truly wants to leave, Harrow will let her, as long as Gideon does something for her first.
The Emperor has invited the heirs of the Nine Houses to undertake a series of tasks. The ‘winner’ will be granted immortality and power as one of his Lyctors, but the heirs cannot compete without their cavaliers. For Harrow, this is a problem; her cavalier, Ortus, has fled from the Ninth House, and she has no choice but to turn to Gideon, a skilled swordswoman. She tells Gideon that, if she accompanies Harrow, Gideon can have her freedom. She can go wherever she wants. Do whatever she wants. But Gideon doesn’t trust her. After a lot of thought, however, she sees no choice but to do what Harrow asks.

The two journey across space to the First House, home of the King Undying and the Necrolord Prime. There, they meet the heirs and cavaliers of the other Eight Houses, including Palamedes Sextus and Camilla Hect from the Sixth House, and Coronabeth and Ianthe Tridentarius from the Third House. They’re welcomed by a strange little man known only as Teacher, and the cavaliers are all gifted a key ring, the purpose of which is at first unknown.
For a lot of the first half of the book, Harrowhark is not there. She leaves Gideon to her own devices, and Gideon loves this. The only catch: Gideon cannot talk to anyone. Harrow has ordered her to fake a vow of silence. This, however, does not stop her from making friends… and enemies. The heir of the Seventh House, Dulcinea Septimus, takes a shine to Gideon, while the cavalier of the Third House, Naberius Tern, hates her. At first, I was enjoying the relationships that were being formed between the Houses, but I wasn’t prepared for what was going to happen.

Gideon finds Harrowhark’s body in a facility under the tower of the First House. Of course, Harrowhark isn’t dead; she’s a necromancer, after all. But Gideon slowly learns from her that the trials of the Emperor are more dangerous than any of them originally thought, and things get even more dangerous when Magnus Quinn and his necromancer, Abigail Pent, are found dead within the facility. Here, the book takes on a darker tone, which I really enjoyed. Honestly, after I’d reached this point in the book, I found it very easy to read. The prose that Muir uses is enthralling and simply fantastic, and I found it easy to visualise the characters surrounding the bodies of the Fifth House.

After more murders, secrets, lies and horrible puns from Gideon, Harrow thinks that the time has come to tell Gideon the truth of the Ninth House. I won’t be giving away many spoilers, but I will share one quote that still sits with me, even after finishing the book.

“I am a war crime.”

These are the words Harrowhark says to Gideon in the pool, a scene filled with so much homoeroticism that I found myself genuinely upset that they didn’t kiss here. Without even realising it, the two have apparently fallen in love (that’s my interpretation, at least). They have begun to understand each other more than they ever have, and in the end, this talk in the pool helps them to cast aside their childhood hatred of each other. I found myself rooting for the two of them. I found myself loving the way they spoke to each other, refusing to put up with each other’s nonsense. The relationship between them grows in such a natural way, their hatred not completely disappearing, even at the end of the book.

This is where the plot gets both better and more confusing. Honestly, I still don’t understand some parts of what I read, I just know that I loved it. The ending broke me (but I’m not going to spoil it here).
If I had one issue with this book, it would be the beginning. The first 100 pages or so were really difficult for me to get into. It felt like nothing was happening, and while I understand that this was necessary, I did take a break from reading for a couple of months until I felt ready to try again. Even then, it took me a while to get into it, but I’m very happy that I did get into it. Overall, I give this book a 4.5 star rating (I’ve apparently lost my USB stick so there’s no visual 4.5 star at the bottom by the book cover today).

Overall, I truly enjoyed this book. I cannot wait to read Harrow the Ninth, Nona the Ninth and Alecto the Ninth (even if I have no idea who Alecto is yet). I would highly recommend picking up a copy of this book from your local bookshop or your local library.

Buy it here:

Gay’s the Word

Waterstones

Foyles

Hunted (Part One)

  Jen sighed, her knee bouncing up and down. They’d been stuck for fifteen minutes, the darkness of the tunnel slowly closing in around them. The heat bothered her more than the darkness, though. The tube had always had a reputation for being hot, but she had hoped it wouldn’t be too bad; it was midday on a Wednesday. Most people were already at work, and there were only a handful of people littered around the carriage. She looked around, observing the other commuters; she’d forgotten her book in her rush to leave her flat, and she needed something to do to break the tedium. In the far corner sat a man in a suit. He looked tired, his eyes drooping slightly as he slumped in his seat. Not far from him was an older woman, dressed in bright, colourful clothes, the scarf around her neck looking handmade. Opposite Jen was a young boy in a school uniform. Looking at him, Jen felt the urge to move to another seat. She hadn’t noticed it when the train had been moving, but now that there was silence, she noticed that he was staring at her, and she lowered her eyes, a small blush spreading across her cheeks. Chances are, he was harmless, but she didn’t like being looked at. It made her uncomfortable. She’d rather pretend that he wasn’t there.
  The crackling of the intercom broke the silence of the carriage, and the drivers voice filled the air, full of static.
  ”Sorry about the wait, we’re just waiting here before moving on another tube just up the line to move,” he explained, and Jen sighed heavily. They’d waited for more than enough time for the train in front of them to move, and a heavy pit of worry settled in her stomach. Was she imagining it, or did the driver sound worried? Her knee bounced faster, and she stared out of the window, her eyes unfocused, thinking. If it wasn’t for her old university coursemate, she would have stayed at home today. She had a mountain of research to do, and right now, the only thing she wanted to was bury herself in it. But no. Beth had messaged to meet up, and Jen had agreed; the two had studied together for four years before going their separate ways, and a chance work conference had brought them together again. Jen had been looking forward to seeing her friend again, but at this moment, she just wanted to go home.
  She snapped out of her thoughts as something banged loudly further down the train. She flinched, her old safety mechanism kicking in as she jumped up and rushed to the far side of the carriage, away from the noise. From where she was stood, she could see into the other carriage. The few people inside were looking around, confused expressions on their faces. At the far end of their carriage, something was moving. If she looked closely, Jen could see people from the far carriage, the one at the end of the train, stumbling towards the next one. Her blood turned into ice as she saw blood and soot on their faces as they began to rush into the carriage. The original passengers began to panic, rushing for her carriage, and Jen backed away as far as she could until her back was against the door to the next carriage. Her gaze fell on the snoozing man and the brightly coloured woman. If they stayed where they were, surely they’d get crushed by the throng of people heading their way.
  ”I think you should get away from the door,” she said, hating how her voice quivered with fear, “People are trying to get in. There’s a lot of them.”
The two looked at her, the woman confused, the man scornful. He shook his head and folded his arms.
  ”They’re just people,” he snapped, closing his eyes again, “It’s not like it’s a stampede or anything.”
Jen’s heart sank. She stared at the woman, pleading with her eyes. The woman had more sense than the man. She nodded, gathered her bags and stood from her seat just as the crowd reached the set of doors separating the carriages. There were so many people crowding around them that it was clear they were struggling to open the door, and they began screaming. The colourful woman jumped away from the door at the sound, running swiftly up the train until she was stood next to Jen, her shoulder bag clutched to her chest with shaking hands. The sleeping man opened his eyes for a moment. He peered at the doors and rolled his eyes.
  ”See? They can’t get in, we’re fine.” As frightened as she was, Jen couldn’t help the anger that swelled inside her chest at his words. He seemed unfazed. He didn’t seem to care that the people were hurt and screaming. He simply closed his eyes again. Jen muttered a curse under her breath as the young boy stood to join her and the other woman, huddled by the door to the next carriage.
  ”What do you think happened?” He asked, his voice quiet, and Jen shook her head as she took a deep breath to steady herself.
  ”I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good.”
  ”Should we help them?” the colourful woman asked, “They look like they need some help.” Jen nodded slowly, her brain taking a few moments to process the question, and the two of them slowly made their way back down the carriage, their fear filling the air. The young boy lingered behind them, his face pale. He didn’t seem to mind being left behind; he was clearly scared, and Jen put his age at around thirteen, too young to know how to help in an emergency situation.
  The two women moved slowly, their fear making their legs feel sluggish, as though they were walking through water. The sleeping man opened his eyes and glared at them as they approached. He stood, crossing his arms and standing in front of the doors, blocking their way.
  ”Let us past,” Jen spoke, forcing her voice to sound authoritative, although she felt like a scared little child.
  ”They’re fine,” the man sighed, “This is what’s wrong with this generation. At the first sign of trouble, you all scream and beg for help instead of dealing with it yourself.”
  ”They’re hurt!” Jen snapped, her temper getting the best of her for a moment. The man glared at her.
  ”People get hurt,” he snarled, “That’s the way life is. You get hurt, and you deal with it. Just let them deal with it themselves.”
  ”Wouldn’t you want someone to help you if you were hurt?” The colourful woman asked, her voice surprisingly calm, and the man let out a mocking laugh.
  ”I wouldn’t be screaming and banging on the door like a baby,” he beamed, seemingly proud of himself.
  As he spoke, Jen realised something, and she opened her mouth to speak, but the young boy beat her to it.
  ”But they’re not screaming and banging on the door. Not anymore, anyway.” He frowned, his lower lip quivering as he took a few tentative steps towards them. Jen nodded, and the other two passengers seemed to notice the silence for the first time. The tired man smiled.
  ”Good! They finally realised that acting like children won’t solve anything.” He turned towards the door, only to freeze. Jen and the others peered around him. The people were gone. In fact, it looked like the entire carriage was gone. In its place was only darkness. No. There was something else. Two glowing red lights in the distance.
  ”It’s another train!” The colourful woman yelled, grabbing Jen by the arm and tugging her back towards the other side of the carriage. The tired man followed, his lips tight and his face pale. The young boy had rushed to the end of the carriage first, and was banging on the door leading to the cab and the driver.
  ”Let us in!” He screamed, his voice high and shaky,” There’s another train! Let us in!” Jen joined her own voice to his, and the two others did the same, until finally, finally, the door swung open. They dove into the cab, slamming the door behind them. Jen turned to the driver, out of breath.
  ”Another train is coming,” she whispered, her voice seeming to fail her, “I… Everyone else is gone. The entire carriage has just… disappeared.” The driver gulped, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his jumper. He opened his mouth, then closed it.
  ”I don’t care if you say we need to wait,” the tired man snapped, “Start this fucking train before I beat the shit out of you!”
  ”So much for ‘doing it yourself’,” the colourful woman muttered, and the tired man turned to her, his face red with anger.
  ”THERE’S A FUCKING TRAIN COMING!” He screamed, and the driver jumped up, shoving him away from the woman with enough force to make him stumble into the door.
  ”SHUT UP!” The driver yelled, and silence reigned for a brief few moments. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, exhausted, before returning to his seat, “If I could move, I would, but I can’t.”
  ”Why? What’s wrong?” Jen asked, dreading the answer but knowing that the question needed to be asked. The driver sighed and turned to his passengers, unshed tears shining in his eyes.
  ”I wasn’t exactly truthful about why we stopped,” he explained, his voice cracking, “We were waiting for the train in front to move, but that train was derailed by something. Emergency services are on the scene looking for survivors but… it looks like we’re trapped.”
  The commuters stared at the driver as he began to cry. The tired man opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, apparently deciding against it.
  ”Oh God, we’re gonna die,” the driver moaned, his head resting in his hands. Jen thought for a minute, then shook her head.
“I don’t think we are,” she mused, and the others looked at her. She pushed the uncomfortable feeling aside and looked at the driver.
  ”How fast do the trains travel?” She asked, and the driver lifted his head, looking at her with dead eyes shining with tears.
“They can get to around 60 miles per hour,” he said, and Jen nodded, a small smile spreading across her lips. The others looked at her, waiting for an explanation.
  ”We could see two red lights, about three hundred metres away. If the train was going at 60 miles per hour, it would have hit us by now. It would have hit us by now no matter how fast it was going.”
  The colourful woman let out a relieved sound, half a chuckle and half a sob. The young boy cursed under his breath, a smile on his face, and the tired man smirked.
  ”I knew there was nothing to worry about,” he boasted, standing up tall, “I did tell you that screaming and shouting doesn’t solve anything.”
  ”No,” Jen interjected, “I think we can all agree that everytime you talk, you lower the IQ of everyone around you. From now on, you need to raise your hand before you talk,” the man opened his mouth, but she glared at him and he closed it again, his eyes downcast.
  ”I’m going to take a look,” Jen said, emboldened, her courage and confidence returning little by little. In one quick step, she was at the door, and she put her hand on the handle, taking a second to prepare herself. She hoped and prayed that she was right and there would be no train there.
  She pushed the door open, and a wave of relief crashed through her when she saw that the red lights had disappeared. Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other until she was out of the cab and back in the carriage. She looked around, squinting in the low light; most of the lights had gone out at some point, and the darkness covered almost every surface. Everything seemed… normal. Well, as normal as it could after the other carriage and the people in it had disappeared. There were no lights, there were no more strange bangs, and more importantly, there didn’t seem to be any danger.
  A woman screamed, and Jen froze for a moment before turning on her heel and running back to the cab. She pulled the door open and skidded to a halt inside. In front of her, through the large window at the front of the train, were two bright, glowing red lights. As she watched, they went out for a second, but only a second. They burned bright. The colourful woman let out a choked sob.
“I don’t think that’s a train.”

Iron Widow

I would like to preface this review by saying only this: I should have waited to read this book until the sequel, “Heavenly Tyrant” was out. I finished it and immediately longed for more.

Xiran Jay Zhao’s (they/them) debut novel exceeded all of my expectations. The world building was fantastic, the characters were flawed but still likeable, and I loved the story more than I thought I would. I tore through the book in three days, and I desperately wish I’d managed to read it in one sitting. “Iron Widow” is a book that I didn’t want to put down, and I stayed up late to finish it. The mix of fantasy, sci-fi and Chinese mythology made the book one that I couldn’t bring myself to put down.

Set against the backdrop of a medieval China, humanity must battle the bug-like alien Hunduns who threaten the humans way of life and safety. Using husks of dead Hunduns, the humans create Chrysalises, giant, formidable beings made of spirit metal. The Chrysalises must have two pilots – a boy and a girl. The pair join their qi (the vital life force of any living being) to battle the invaders. The male pilots are turned into celebrities by the dystopian public, while the girls are mere sacrifices for the boys, rarely surviving the battles they face unless them and their male counterpart are a Balanced Match.

That is, until Wu Zetian, a young girl who wants nothing more than to avenge the death of her sister at the hands at one of the government’s star pilots, Yang Guang. When inside the Chrysalis in her first battle with him, she unintentionally kills him, becoming the titular Iron Widow.

As punishment for the murder of their star pilot, Wu Zetian is forced to work with Li Shimin, a fellow murderer and the man who holds the highest spirit pressure in over 200 years. The two must learn to work together to pilot their Chrysalis, the Vermilion Bird, to secure victory for humanity. They face many challenges – pilots who hate them both for their murders, a corrupt government, and the appearance of Gao Yizhi, Wu Zetian’s ‘friend’.

In so many YA novels, the main romance turns out to be a love triangle in which the female main character must choose between two boys, each with their own flaws and merits. Xiran Jay Zhao ignores this completely, choosing to incorporate polyamory into the novel in an expert way. Wu Zetian finds herself in love with both Li Shimin and Gao Yizhi, but doesn’t choose between them, instead choosing both of them. The men’s bisexuality helps with this, and I loved the line where they first kiss and Wu Zetian is wondering if “this is finally happening”. If I had one complaint, it would be that the romance between the three needs to be developed a tiny bit more (but I guess I’ll have to wait until “Heavenly Tyrant” for this).

“Iron Widow” is the epitome of ‘female rage’. Wu Zetian’s hatred of the patriarchal society she is forced to live in makes the story seem to come alive, and the feminism in the novel was immaculate. I found myself relating to Wu Zetian, and found myself almost cheering when she finally broke, letting all of her rage out freely.

The plot twist at the end of the book had me staring at the ceiling long after I’d finished reading. After the final battle, Gao Yizhi finds documents which tell him that the Hunduns aren’t the invaders. Humanity is. As this is revealed, Wu Zetian is faced with a choice from the Heavenly Court: keep the truth to herself and do the bidding of the gods, or die.

I cannot wait for “Heavenly Tyrant” to be published. I truly loved this book. Everything about it spoke to me in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I highly, highly recommend picking up a copy if you have a chance.

Buy it here!

Gay’s the Word

Waterstones

bookshop.org

Another Love

The rain was coming down heavier now. Soon, the streets would start to flood. Kirsten didn’t even notice the rain slashing across her face like small, sharp knives. Her hand tightened its grip of her sword. Sebastian smirked at her, his sword slick with blood as the body crumpled at his feet, the ragged breaths audible even over the rush of the rain. The smirk still on his face, Sebastian raised his sword, wiping the blade clean with a rag. Kirsten didn’t know where he’d gotten the rag from, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care less about him. Her attention was focused on the blood-spattered girl at his feet. Slowly, she stepped forward. She knelt slowly, falling to the ground, the sword falling from her grasp. With a shaking hand, she reached out and touched the dying girl’s face gently, wiping the rain away. Laurel’s eyes flickered, peering at Kirsten through rain-soaked eyelashes.
“Are you OK?” She croaked, her voice gravelly and quiet. A trickle of crimson blood escaped from the corner of her lip, and Kirsten wiped it away, her eyes stinging as she stared at the wound.
“That doesn’t matter,” she whispered, grasping Laurel’s hand in her own, soothing her hair with her other hand, “Why did you do that?” she asked, her voice cracking as her tears began to fall. Laurel let out a weak chuckle that turned into a cough.
“Someone’s got to look after you, darling,” she muttered, the ghost of a smile on her lips. Kirsten bowed her head, the tears falling freely from her eyes as she heard Laurel’s breath begin to get shallow. “I’m not going to live, am I?” Laurel asked, and Kirsten tried to compose herself, nodding.
“You will, my love,” she forced herself to smile, “It’s not that bad. We’ll get you help, and you’ll be alright.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Laurel whispered, her voice growing weaker, “Make me a promise.” Kirsten shook her head, her grasp on the brunette’s hand tightening. Laurel nodded slowly, hissing slightly at the pain from her bleeding wound. “Promise me… you… you won’t do anything stupid.” Her eyes slid closed, and Kirsten let out a choked sob. She nodded, not wanting to cause Laurel anymore hurt.
“I promise,” she whispered, leaning forward and brushing a kiss along the dying girl’s temple softly. Laurel’s eyes fluttered open one last time, hooded and tired from the effort.
“I’ll see you up there,” she whispered, and Kirsten nodded, barely able to see through her tears.
“I’ll see you up there,” she replied, her eyes not leaving Laurel’s face as the life slipped from it. A minute of silence passed. Laurel’s hand fell from Kirsten’s. Kirsten drew in a shaky breath, then raised her head to the heavens. A guttural, anguished scream tore its way from her throat, filling the air around them with her heartbreak. She bowed her head and sobbed. She’d almost forgotten about Sebastian until he spoke.
“You mortals are almost too easy to kill,” he said nonchalantly, cockiness in his voice, and she could tell he was pleased with himself. As quick as it had come, her pain disappeared, replaced instead with an anger so strong she was scared of what she would do if she let it out. Slowly, she raised her head to look at her enemy. Their eyes met, and he took a step back, the smirk on his face falling and fear in his eyes. Almost instinctively, he raised his sword as Kirsten stood, grasping her sword from where she had dropped it. For each step she took towards him, he took one back, and Kirsten found herself enjoying his fear.
Rage and hatred flooded through her body, and she raised her sword, a wordless cry escaping from her lips as she swung. He parried easily, but as the blows kept coming, he lost his balance, teetering on the heels of his feet before he fell to the ground. Bringing her sword down, Kirsten reveled in the howl of pain as she felt her blade sink into the soft skin of his shoulder, just underneath his collarbone.
“Please…” he yelled, “Mercy!” She paused, taking in the sight. This was the man who had relentlessly hunted and attacked her for years. He had killed many of her friends, and now he had killed the woman she loved.
“Mercy?” She whispered, “Did you show Darron mercy? Elias? Ruth? Did you show Laurel mercy before you murdered her?” She beckoned at the corpse of her love as she spoke, her voice growing stronger with each word until she was screaming, her anger reaching its peak. “You will get no mercy from me, Sebastian.” The man choked out something halfway between a sob and a laugh.
“You cannot kill me,” he hissed, clutching at her blade with his hand, “I cannot be killed by anyone!” Kirsten shook her head, resting her hands on the pummel of her sword, and Sebastian let out another yelp as the blade cut deeper into him.
“Don’t tell me what I can do,” she hissed, her voice full of malice and loathing. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sword embedded in her enemy. The familiar vibrations began to flood through her, and her eyes opened, fixing his with a glare. Her normally green eyes had been replaced by fiery amber, and Sebastian seemed to recoil at the sight.
Her mouth opened, and a single word left her lips, spoken in Scots Gaelic, “Teine.” Sparks shot from her fingertips, travelling down the grip of the sword onto the blade. Sebastian screamed when the sparks turned into flames, licking at his skin. His screams carried in the wind, and Kirsten found herself thankful that they were in the middle of nowhere; there was nobody to find them, nobody to hear him die, nobody to stop her. She let go of the sword as Sebastian began to burn, his screams still piercing the cool night air.
She watched for only a moment before turning away, her anger extinguished almost as quickly as it had erupted. She made her way back to Laurel, whose eyes were staring at the stars above them, unseeing. Kirsten fell to her knees, wrapping the girl in her arms.
“You always did love the stars.” she choked out, her tears falling once more. She bowed her head and tightened her grip on the woman she loved, scared of letting go, of admitting that Laurel was really gone.
When dawn broke, that is how her friends found her, cradling Laurel’s body in her arms while Sebastian’s body burnt behind them.

Experience

Alina let out a breath as she skidded to a stop, her arm reaching up to grab her sword from the scabbard on her back. The hiss of metal against leather was familiar now. It reminded her of the fights she’d had to go through to get here. It reminded her of the friends she’d lost. It reminded her of everyone who had left.
She hadn’t meant to push them away. She’d been so wrapped up in her fate and her struggles that she hadn’t even stopped to think of asking for help. By the time she realised she needed her friends, they were already gone. They’d given up trying to get her to see she needed them, and now she was alone.
She gripped her sword tightly, her other hand on the dagger at her hip. She looked across the field to the army in front of her. At the front, in the vanguard, stood Chesca, her eyes trained on Alina, the hint of a smirk on her lips. The sight of Chesca used to make the hair on Alina’s arms stand on end, but they had battled enough now that Alina was no longer scared. She was just… tired. She wanted to be done with all of this. She wanted her friends back. She wanted her life back. And she wanted the chance to grow old with Tamzin without the fear of someone hunting them.
“On your own, Alina?” Chesca called coyly, her smirk growing as she held her arms out to her sides, “You expect to defeat us?” Alina sucked in a breath, her fingers tightening around the sword at her side. She gave a small nod, her face blank with steely determination as she adjusted her stance. Chesca rolled her eyes, almost seeming bored, and raised her arm. Her army rippled around her, waiting for her command. They were restless, it seemed. Alina recognised a few of them. Not by name, but by faces. She remembered their faces smiling down at her while they killed her friends. Rage began to build in her chest, and a muscle in her jaw twitched as she prepared for the onslaught.
She knew there was no way she could win. Not on her own. But if she could somehow get close to Chesca, she hoped she could get rid of her enemy once and for all. One quick blow and she could die happily, knowing that she had defeated her foe.
A movement caught her eye, and Alina turned her head slightly, her eyes straining in the waning sunlight. On the outskirts of the army, where the field gave way to forest, there was someone hiding in a tree. It almost looked like… Malthus. Alina sucked in a breath as his eyes caught hers. He bowed his head, and she bowed hers, thankful that, even as she prepared for death, she had one friend with her. Slowly, more movement stirred, unseen by the enemy army. It surrounded them on all sides, and Alina felt herself choke on unshed tears as she saw her friends. Damon, Rina, Clerk, Mage, Tamzin. The tears fell as she saw her friends and the woman she loved. They were here. They had come back. She bowed her head to hide her tears, and once she had calmed herself, she raised it, meeting Chesca’s eyes with a hopeful stare. If Chesca knew Alina was crying, she didn’t mention it. Instead, she brought her arm down, and the army let out a roar, almost as if it was one large creature. They charged, running towards Alina. She drew her sword up and unsheathed her dagger, determined to cut through as many of them as she possibly could. Her feet began to move, faster and faster, until she was running towards the army, a lone warrior against a massive horde. They met in the middle of the field, and Alina gave a wordless yell as she began to attack, feeling the blade of her sword sink into the flesh of the closest enemy even as her dagger embedded itself into the eye of another. Ripping her weapons away from the dead, she continued on, slashing at everything that moved. It was easier than she thought it would be, and it was only when she heard the sound of arrows above her that she realised that she wasn’t alone in fighting.
The army was drawn in all directions as the attacks came from the sides. Turning to where she’d seen Malthus in the tree, she saw the army of Kraznok leap from the treeline, racing towards the field, and when she turned to the other side, she saw Tamzin leading the Ghamchain into the battle. Her heart soared even as she cut down another enemy, thankful that she had not been so stubborn that her friends had forsaken her completely. A slurry of screams sounded from the back of the enemy army, and she could only assume that Mage had managed to persuade the Treplan army to join the cause. She ducked under the swing of an axe, slicing at a nearby foe as she tried to find Chesca in the horde. Chesca was hers to kill, and she intended to let the woman meet the friends she had ordered killed. On she fought, ducking and killing her way through the onslaught. Chesca’s army had seemed big, but now that there were three armies against one, it didn’t seem that large. A pile of bodies was beginning to grow, and as Alina watched more and more vanquished foes join the pile, she saw Chesca climb to the top, spear in hand, her flaming red hair making her stand out. Alina began to run faster, her legs screaming with effort.
She let out a yell as she felt sharp pain sprout in her right shoulder as she was thrown to the ground. Before she could tell what was happening, a man was on top of her, slashing at her with a curved dagger she quickly recognised. She raised her hand and gripped his wrist, putting all of her strength into keeping the dagger raised. She knew the man, she realised. He had been the one who had snapped Halda’s neck in the forest. She felt a pang of rage as she mourned her dead friend. The girl had been young, and she didn’t deserve to die at the hands of this man. Alina’s mind became flooded with memories of the girl as she fought, struggling underneath the man. He was bigger and stronger than she was, and her strength began to falter, the dagger drawing ever closer to her face. She gritted her teeth, praying that she wouldn’t die this way. Her prayers were quickly answered as an arrow struck the man in the temple, driving into his brain. He toppled over, and Alina sat up, gasping for air as she pushed him off her legs. She didn’t waste any time before continuing her journey to Chesca, weaving her way through the fighting.
She soon reached the bottom of the pile of bodies, stacked high, the grass below soaked with the blood of hundreds of fallen soldiers. Staring up, she saw Chesca atop the pile, ordering her army. Alina sheathed her sword and began to climb, using the dead’s limbs to make her way up to her nemesis. Chesca saw her climbing, and for a moment, just a moment, Alina could have sworn she saw a hint of fear in the other woman’s eyes. It was gone quickly, and Chesca began to jab at her with her spear. Alina hissed in pain as it grazed her forehead, and when she next brought her arm up to climb, she grabbed the end of the spear, pulling it downward. The force of the tug made Chesca lose her balance, and both spear and woman toppled over the edge, landing on the blood-soaked ground below. Alina wanted nothing more than to climb back down and finish the job, but others were climbing the tower now, and not all of them were friendly. She hoisted herself to the top and stood, drawing her sword once more. The pain in her shoulder had settled to a dull throb, but she could still feel the warm blood spilling out of it slowly.
As the enemy soldiers reached the top of the pile, Alina readied herself, raising her sword. A hand touched hers, and she wheeled round, ready to strike. She froze as she saw Tamzin, a shy smile on her face. The blonde was bloody, with cuts on her face and arms, but she looked mostly unhurt. Alina felt her heart soar as she looked into the face of the woman she loved; they had been separated for over a month now, and Alina didn’t think she could bear to be away from the other woman for much longer.
“Hi,” she croaked, her voice catching in her throat. Tamzin smiled softly for a moment before the look fell from her face. She tugged Alina behind her, swinging her sword at the enemy who had been stood behind the brunette, ready to strike. He fell, falling backwards to the ground. Alina looked around. The enemy was climbing the pile from all directions, and she turned so that she and Tamzin were back-to-back. Together, they fought, their blades shining in the faint light of the sunset. They cut down enemy after enemy, and soon, others joined them as they managed to climb. Mage and Rina fought side by side with the women, and soon all four directions were clear. The battleground was suddenly quiet, and Alina felt warmth in her hand. She looked down, not even noticing that Tamzin’s hand had intertwined with her own at some point during the fighting. She turned to face her love, and the two stared at each other for a moment, swords lowered. Next to them, Mage and Rina celebrated the victory, but the women didn’t notice them. They only saw each other. Tamzin raised her hand and rested it on Alina’s cheek, bringing their foreheads together, and Alina closed her eyes.
“I missed you,” she murmured, her voice low, “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” Tamzin let out a soft chuckle.
“I will never leave you,” she whispered, bringing their heads closer. Their lips touched, and Alina felt herself melting into Tamzin’s embrace. She hadn’t noticed how tired she was, but now that the fighting was done, she could barely stand. The two pulled apart, and Alina opened her eyes, smiling widely at her love. All thoughts of Chesca and the battle had been leeched from her mind, and all she could think about was the woman who stood in front of her, resplendent in blood covered and scratched armor.
“Alina!” Tamzin screamed at the same moment Alina felt pain blooming through her. She let out a gasp and wheeled around, grabbing her dagger from the scabbard on her hip, driving it upward into Chesca’s throat. The redhead stumbled backward, clawing at her throat as crimson blood began to pour out. Her eyes were wild and scared, and for a second, Alina almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She watched Chesca as she fell to her knees, still clawing at her throat, and she watched as the woman fell, one more body on the immense pile.
“Alina,” Tamzin cried, her voice urgent, “Alina please…” Alina looked down at her body, surprised to see the tip of Chesca’s spear sticking out of her chest, covered in fresh blood. Her blood, she realised. Her vision began to blur, and she felt herself falling. Tamzin caught her as she fell, wrapping the brunette in her arms as tears streamed down her cheeks. Everything was beginning to darken, and Alina forced herself to raise her head to look at the blonde. Their eyes met, and she smiled.
“I’m glad I got to see you one last time.” she whispered, reaching out with a shaky hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Tamzin’s ear. She drew in a deep breath, a smile on her lips, and then everything went black.