Raze the Night (Nightstar Book 2)

Fennrin gritted his teeth, clenching both of his fists as he made all the Orinovan soldiers around him fall to the floor, their necks broken, dying in unison.

He had listened to Daryan. He had tried let go of his fear. And the results were impressive, if he said so himself. As far as he knew, very few of the hundreds of soldiers fighting with him had even been hurt because of how easy it was to cut the Orinovans down.

Fennrin finished killing more of them before a horn sounded—a familiar noise urging the remaining enemy soldiers to fall back. Fennrin watched them run off into the distance, taking a few deep breaths and looking around him.

Seeing all of the dead around him still made him feel odd, but he was growing used to it. He wished he didn’t have to kill so many, but he couldn’t get himself to feel too regretful about it. The victories they’d ensured over the last few days were incredibly encouraging, as was how pleased Daryan seemed to be with him.

It was a little addicting, in fact, which was the only thing that made Fennrin a little wary. Ainreth’s absence was felt, by him personally because he did miss him, and on the battlefield as well. But when Fennrin wasn’t holding back, he was managing to protect the other soldiers fairly well.

His control over turning into a shadow was nearly flawless now, letting him move from one form to the other seamlessly enough that he could avoid most of the attacks aimed at him.

He could dispatch their enemies just as quickly, having only sustained a few bruises and cuts from them trying to attack him from behind. That was a tactic now, he’d come to notice. They couldn’t face him directly without him immediately killing his would-be attackers.

Being attacked by any az-ari that Orinovo had was also quite common, all of them usually targeting him the moment he was spotted, but he was kept protected by Lys-Akkarian soldiers at all times, shielding him just enough to notice anyone dangerous in time.

Things had been going so well that Fennrin was starting to worry that maybe there might be another ambush coming, perhaps a trap once they got to a specific place in Orinovo. But nothing had happened so far, so he was trying to ignore his natural pessimism.

The soldiers around him cheered, a few of them coming to congratulate him specifically for his efforts, which Fennrin couldn’t help but smile at. His powers being celebrated was still incredibly strange, but it was also incredible. It felt so very good to be not only accepted but also appreciated.

And he was good at the thing he was being celebrated for. He didn’t have qualms thinking that anymore.

He spent the next few hours just resting and eating something after they set up a new camp, waiting for Daryan, the Bulwark, and the soldiers guarding them to join with them again. He was eager to talk about the battle with Daryan.

But the moment he saw him on his horse on the hill above, Fennrin had a bad feeling. Bad mood seemed to be seeping off the man even at a distance, which made little sense to Fennrin given their flawless victories.

He anxiously awaited Daryan’s arrival for a few minutes, watching him and the soldiers descent the hill, then heading right to him.

Fennrin frowned more, growing even more tense, when he saw Daryan’s face up close, seeing the usual warm expression on his face be cold and annoyed. His gaze did soften, however, when he got off his horse and they made proper eye contact.

“May I speak with you a moment, Fennrin?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back as he surveyed the new camp and land they’d just managed to conquer. They didn’t use to immediately set up camp there after a victory, having been more cautious at the start, but Orinovo didn’t have the troops to stop them, and that was becoming clearer and clearer.

“Er, yes, of course,” Fennrin said, not sure what to expect. He hoped he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Show me to your tent?”

Fennrin nodded, smiling slightly though he couldn’t shake the anxiousness as he led Daryan through the mass of tents to his, holding it open for the Herald and then stepping in after him.

He swallowed, standing there a bit awkwardly. “Is something wrong?”

Daryan grimaced. “Well, yes, unfortunately. I wanted to congratulate on how well you are doing. You are making excellent progress. But alas….”

“Yes?” Fennrin was sure he looked very disconcerted, but he couldn’t help but feel like that. Was Daryan saying that he wasn’t doing well? That he had disappointed him?

“A letter from the Arbiter has arrived. Well, more than one. I may have misplaced the first one with all the traveling we’ve done.”

Fennrin frowned. Where was this going? He had absolutely no idea.

“A letter?”

Daryan nodded, grimacing as he started to pace a little. “It appears the citizens of Kyr-Toryl are not pleased with our efforts.”

Fennrin blinked. Okay, that was definitely not what he’d expected. “But…we are winning.”

“Yes, well, apparently that is irrelevant. Our people are, it seems, misguided and things have not been explained to them properly. They believe the conflict is pointless. And there is worse news.”

Fennrin stared at him. “Worse than that?”

Daryan nodded grimly, the displeased lines around his eyes deepening. “It seems Ainreth is now involved with the leaders of the protests.”

Ain had done that? Joined protests against the war? But surely he had to see why they were doing this. The threat in Diramisk was too great not to fight against. At this rate they would be done in a month or two, surely. And then the fighting would end at last.

“I cannot say I am too surprised,” Daryan continued, muttering. “But I would have expected him to try to regain his position so he could get back to you here. Instead of doing the opposite.”

Fennrin’s insides twisted. He hadn’t even thought about that, but it was true. Ain had left with the knowledge that he would soon get his rank back. But if he is actively protesting the war then surely that is not something that would be considered. Definitely not as long as he continues doing it.

Fennrin swallowed thickly. He didn’t like how this was making him feel. Maybe Ain just thought that Fennrin could handle himself here on his own well enough that he didn’t need protecting from Ainreth. That must have been it because he didn’t like the alternative explanations he was coming up with.

“Nevertheless, I am afraid we will have to pause our march on Diramisk,” Daryan said, sighing and shaking his head. “It will only end with more innocent lives lost. But I need to go back to try to calm the situation.”

Fennrin wanted to ask why they had to pause if only Daryan was going back, but before he could, the Herald continued.

“And I would like for you to go with me.”

Daryan smiled at him softly, despite the situation, while Fennrin blinked. “Me? I doubt I can help calm people. I wouldn’t know how.”

Daryan shook his head, putting his hands on Fennrin’s shoulders. “You are a national hero now. A symbol. You are no general, you simply follow orders and help our soldiers survive, so you are not who the protestors have a problem with.”

He tilted his head a little, looking imploringly at him. “If the Daybreaker refuses to help us do a difficult thing for the greater good, then the Nightrazer will.” He paused. “Won’t he?”

Fennrin nodded hesitantly. “If you think anyone will listen to me.”

Daryan smiled at him, letting go of one of his shoulders and rubbing the other a little. “Of course they will. They’ll listen. Especially when the Bulwark and I are in full support of you.”

Fennrin nodded again, feeling a little better now. He had no true confidence when it came to public speaking. Even though he knew Lys-Akkarians didn’t hate him anymore, he had no skill when it came to speeches. But if Daryan had confidence in him, that did help. He just hoped he wouldn’t embarrass him.

“Wouldn’t it be better if I stayed here, though? What if Orinovo attacks our soldiers while I am not here?”

Daryan shook his head. “I doubt Orinovo is currently in any position to attack. And our soldiers are highly skilled. I highly doubt the queen will try to do anything given the kind of loses her army is sustaining.”

Fennrin wasn’t a strategist, so he had no idea if what Daryan was saying was realistic. But he trusted him enough not to poke holes in it. “Very well. If you’re certain. I’ll accompany you.”

It would take at least two or three weeks to get to Kyr-Toryl, though. Even if they somehow managed to deal with the situation in a few days, it would still take over a month to get there and back again. That seemed to be ample time for Orinovo to come up with new strategies.

“Wonderful,” Daryan said, smiling at him and putting his hand away. “Are you rested? We should leave at once. The Bulwark is giving the generals orders as we speak.”

Fennrin nodded again, even though he wasn’t at all happy about the thought of traveling such a long distance immediately after a battle. But they couldn’t waste time. “Yes, I can go.”

“Wonderful. I will tell our windwalker transport to get ready.”

“Windwalker?” Fennrin asked, frowning.

Daryan smiled, slight amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Yes, of course. You didn’t think we would travel on horseback, did you?”

And with that Daryan left the tent, Fennrin staring after him. He had expected them to travel on horseback. And he wasn’t sure what other options there were given that a windwalker couldn’t be expected to manage to fly along with three people at once.

But Fennrin decided not to question these things. Daryan was smarter and wiser than him, and he could trust that he knew what he was doing. Fennrin was a little sad about having to leave Star here, but he was sure she would be fine without him for a while. He knew she’d be well taken care of.

He didn’t have much in terms of packing since he hadn’t unpacked his bag at all yet given the fact that they’d just set up this camp, and so he simply collected it and walked outside, heading to say goodbye to his horse who was grazing nearby.

Fennrin knew she probably didn’t care much about his absence as he did about hers, and she wouldn’t understand a word he was about to say to her, but it still didn’t feel right to just leave her.

He found her among the many horses easily, her spots making her very distinct. Fennrin couldn’t help but smile when he approached her, running his hand over the side of her long neck.

“Hi, Star,” he said softly. He’d felt awkward talking to his horse at first, but he had long since stopped worrying what people might think of him.

The horse raised her head to look at him with her big, dark eyes, blinking once and then lowering her head back down so she can keep eating.

Fennrin smiled. “I’ll be gone for a while. I’m not sure how long. But I’ll be back for you eventually, okay?”

As predicted, the horse didn’t react at all, just flicking her ear. But Fennrin smiled anyway as he patted her. Sunray seemed to get separation anxiety from not being around Ain often enough. He was glad that at least Star didn’t seem to care much either way, aside from being more likely to follow him around if they were apart for some time prior.

He spent a while longer with her, just watching her graze and petting her, smiling when she pushed her head into his chest, which he had found out meant she wanted him to scratch her forehead. That seemed to be her favorite spot.

Once she went back to eating, Fennrin stroked her mane one more time before walking back to the camp, a little anxious already about what was expected of him.

It was very encouraging that Daryan was so sure of his abilities, but he still had his doubts. He couldn’t imagine himself delivering a speech that would help anyone with anything.

Surely people didn’t like him enough for that. Not like they liked Ain.

Ain…. Fennrin had no idea what he would say to him once they crossed paths again.

He wanted things between them to be okay again. To go back to where they had been before all the arguing about the war. But at the same time, he was still hurt from what had happened. Ainreth had immediately assumed he’d cheated on him with Daryan. And then he’d essentially told him not to see him again.

It had certainly been said in anger, but the fact that Ain had done those things in the first place made Fennrin feel hurt. And as though perhaps he shouldn’t simply move on and get back together with Ainreth, assuming Ain would even want that.

Fennrin sighed, his heart clenching. He would have plenty of time to think about all of this now. Though he wasn’t certain if he would come to any kind of conclusion.

He’d expected to have to walk around a lot to find Daryan and whatever transport he’d secured, but it turned out to be very obvious where he was.

There was something like a carriage close to the camp, except there were no horses to draw it, or any wheels to move it, its front shaped into a beak-like form. There were two seats on the roof, and there was canvas also on its sides, as if the carriage had folded wings.

Fennrin walked over to it curiously, looking it over. Even before reaching it, though, he realized what this must have been for.

Daryan had said they would be traveling via a windwalker. So said windwalker would be flying the carriage, no doubt with the help of the canvas to help it float better, the seats meant for windwalkers flying it.

He admired it from up close, staring at it in fascination so strong that he didn’t even notice Daryan and the Bulwark standing right next to their transport.

“Quite impressive, isn’t it?” Daryan said, making Fennrin flinch and then blush when he realized his mistake.

“Uh, yes.” He blinked, nodding at the Bulwark when he noticed her there as well, along with two soldiers standing next to her. One of them Fennrin recognized as their windwalker postman, and while he had never seen the blond woman next to him, Fennrin could wager that he she was also a windwalker.

“I helped design it,” Daryan continued, looking proud of himself. And Fennrin couldn’t fault him for it. If this could truly fly with the help of windwalkers, then it was incredible.

The two windwalkers began to each stretch out the canvas, which turned out to be attached to two collapsible, metal rods, one on each side, similar to wing bones on a bird. As the rods were stretched as far as they could good, Fennrin’s eyes widened at how long they actually were, each twice the length of the carriage at least. But he supposed that made sense. The bigger the wings, the easier the flight, or so he assumed it worked.

“Does it work?” Fennrin asked, feeling a little stupid for even saying it, but he had to know.

“Oh yes,” Daryan said, smiling at him. “Our lovely windwalkers flew it in from Irnov just now.”

Fennrin supposed it made sense that this flying carriage had been made—or at the very least kept—in a nearby city given how quickly it had been brought here, but it was a little shocking to him that Daryan had potentially had had Orinovans make it if it had been built in Irnov.

“Was it made in Irnov, then?”

Daryan looked a little amused again. “If you are worried about this being dangerous through potential sabotage, I assure you it is tested and safe. You would be surprised how many people in Irnov in particular have warmed up to not being under the control of Queen Svytlani anymore. And I paid them well for the convenience of not bringing the carriage all the way from Lys-Akkaria.”

Fennrin hadn’t given it much thought how the people now living under the rule of Lys-Akkaria might have felt about it. He’d been too focused on getting to Diramisk. Given the few incidents there had been with Lys-Akkarian soldiers robbing the civilians of Orinovo, Fennrin had sort of assumed they weren’t liked here at all, but it made sense that at least some of the locals wouldn’t mind too much as long as they were left alone.

“We still have a few hours of sunlight left. We should leave if everyone is ready,” the Bulwark said, looking none too happy about this. Fennrin studied her properly, noting the tense way she held herself, a frown constantly in place. He wondered what she thought about all of this.

Since everyone could go, the three of them climbed inside of the carriage, finding two comfortable, padded benches facing each other. The interior was so similar to an actual, regular carriage, in fact, that Fennrin was certain this contraption had begun its life as one.

Daryan sat down next to him while the Bulwark sat opposite them, both Courtiers closing the doors behind them. There were a couple of thuds as the windwalkers outside climbed on top of the carriage and into the seats.

And then the whole carriage jerked and started to fly up, lifting off the ground, wind howling around them.

Fennrin stared out the window on his right, his face glued to it in both fascination and worry, watching the camp get smaller and smaller, disappearing in the distance.

He could see the edge of the canvas wings fluttering in the harsh wind as the windwalkers kept up a fast pace, flying over vast distances quickly, certainly quicker than when Oretski had captured Fennrin. But then, he had been alone, and had had nothing to help him fly.

Despite the sounds of the wind, the flying itself was fairly steady, the carriage not jerking around or moving much in general.

It helped Fennrin calm down and not worry too much about the fact that they were flying so far up above the ground. He didn’t stop looking out the window, though, even if the height made him feel uncomfortable.

The landscape passing beneath them helped distract him from the anxiety squeezing his insides. He tried not to worry too much about what he would have to do or reuniting with Ain because there was little he could do to make that better. But he still couldn’t help but obsess over it.

Right now, he felt as though he’d rather go siege Diramisk by himself than go back to Kyr-Toryl. And he hated that a large part of that was because he’d be seeing Ain again. It just made him sad how nervous he was about it.

But there was nothing to be done. He couldn’t avoid it. He just wished they could get to Kyr-Toryl even faster so he wouldn’t have to agonize over all the possibilities his brain came up with for endless hours.

Fennrin set his jaw. He wouldn’t avoid Ainreth when he got back. No, he would confront him about what happened, and he expected an apology. Because he’d done nothing wrong.

Fennrin settled against the door, scowling at the landscape below.

He’d done nothing wrong. And Ainreth had hopefully realized that by now.