We took each others measure.
Nearby, Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel monitored, speaking to Keir and the Illyrian captains. I did not see many wings amongst the fallen on the field. A mercy.The only mercy, it seemed, as Tarquin made a motion with his hand.
Some of the Hybern soldiers began screaming for clemency, their offers to sell information ringing out, even to us.Tarquin pointed at a few of them, and they were hauled away by his soldiers. To be questioned. And I doubted it would be pleasant.But the others …
Tarquin stretched out his hand toward them.It took me a heartbeat to realize why the Hybern soldiers were thrashing and clawing at themselves, some trying to crawl away. But then one of them collapsed, and sunlight caught on his face. And even with the distance, I could tell—could tell it was water now bubbling out of his lips.
Out the lips of all the Hybern soldiers as Tarquin drowned them on dry land.
I didnt see Rhys or the others for hours—not when he gave the order that the Illyrian war-camp was to be moved from the border of the Winter Court and rebuilt at the edge of the battlefield. So Mor and I winnowed to and from the camps as the exodus began. We brought my sisters last, waiting until many of the bodies had been turned to black dust by Rhysand. The blood and mud remained, but the camp maintained too good a position to yield—or waste time finding another one.I sit up. The lights are down, but I know this place: Macs house. Skye is pressed against the sofa next to me, looking up, tail wagging softly, but like she knows things arent right, doesnt jump up like she usually does.
My hand hurts and I hold it out, check it like it belongs to somebody else. Nothing broken; just bruises, a few split knuckles.What happened to it? Mac asks.
I kind of punched a wall.He hands me a glass of water, tablets. Painkillers: the ones you left here after your IMET.