Without another word, I shove my way past the boys. My bare, wet feet make prints on the stone platform.
"How do you know?" Ajax asks, grasping my wrist, his voice echoing. "Are you sure?"
"They are coming," I snap, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder. "You'd be fools to not believe me."
"We believe you," Ruben says. "I'll alert the army."
We burst out of the bunker and break into a run through the forest. The trees and low-hanging ferns and branches whip at our faces, legs, and arms. Wind lashes at my hair, winding it into knots. Fear grazes my heart like the fangs of a beast mauling its prey.
Finally, we crash out of the forest into the Convex Sector and split up. The boys head across the river to round up the army, and I wind through the streets to my family apartment, where I have been stowing some armour, boots, and my father's sword.
Convex people milling through the streets notice my blind panic and stop in their tracks. My fear is a contagion they catch like a cold.
"What is going on, Elle?" a lady asks, grabbing her child and then me with her other hand, yanking me to a stop.
I clench my jaw. "You must grab your child and get inside. Lock your doors. Draw your blinds. If you can, spread the word. Every civilian must stay inside and safe."
"What's happening?" she presses, brushing a loose strand of greying hair from her face.
I heave a sigh. "The Red Movement is coming. Please heed my advice."
With a sharp nod, she turns and tugs her child away, who waves at me over his little shoulder. I press on, winding my way through the streets, yelling at everyone I pass to go inside and lock their doors. The old, creaking flight of stairs feels higher and more grueling than usual with the ticking time. I stumble into my dank apartment, scrunching my nose at the distinct smell of mildew, and make a mental note to come to clean it if I survive the day.
I pull on the armour. A chest plate, and leg plates. Then I grab my sword, tuck in the scabbard I fasten to my waist. I shove an array of dainty, glinting knives into the belt, too. Armed to the teeth, yet trembling with fear, I hurry back out into the frigid, lamenting wind.
By now, word has spread, and silence creeps across the Convex Sector like fog on a winter's morning. People draw their blinds and smother their candles. But I catch the odd curious soul peeking at me through the gaps in their curtains, tracing my movements down the cobble-stone roads. My footsteps seem to boom in the silence, and my armour clangs together like drum cymbals.
As I arrive back at the edge of the forest, my breath is erratic, and a rumble burrows into my ears. I glance around and my heart pounds. They march, swiftly through the streets. Ruben's army. Round shields before them, long swords at the ready. Other squadrons are armed with bows, and baskets of arrows strapped to their backs. Others in the back wield long spears.
I catch Ruben at the front, his dark head bouncing as he hastens forward. Aston grips his sword as if he's already on the battlefield. Ajax is armed with his array of knives, glinting like fangs around his waist. But Edward is not in sight.
The army barrels forward, almost sweeping me off my feet. Many of the soldiers greet me as I join the front, and the sense of comradery spreads like fire. My heart hammers to the same steady rhythm as the warriors' chant. They beat the staffs of their spears against the ground as they march, rattling their shields. A low thrum permeates the forest as we move as one collective unit.
We quickly approach the southern walls and I get ready to move into the bunkers and out to the other side of the city.
"Archers, ready?" Ruben bellows above the chant and thundering footsteps.
"Ready!" comes the chorus.
I look over my shoulder, almost tripping over my feet as I watch the archers peel away from the throng and race towards the wall. Then they climb. In a row of ten, and one by one, they pick their way up the walls. My heart leaps into my chest and I peer closer. Ladders. Someone has installed incredible ladders up the face of the walls.
"Only for military use," Ruben mutters in my ear as they move like ants up to the top.
"When did you guys install the ladders?" I ask, wide-eyed as we slip into the shadows of the bunker.
"I'm a man of magic," Ajax says, nudging my rib.
A harsh glare washes over us as we stalk out of the bunker, hundreds of us spilling out. I glimpse the archers on top of the wall, standing in formation, loading their bows. As fear spider-walks down my spine, I stand by the water's edge, letting the waves lap around my boots as I pull out my sword. The wind whistles and whips around us. In the distance, the shadowteeth groans.
The Red Movement soldiers have reached the lake. They board dozens of small wooden boats, clearly assembled by a group of them before today, and make their way towards us. A deep, bone-trembling roar emanates from within the lake again. The shadowteeth flings her violet arms out of the water, splashing them and rocking their boats, before she disappears again as if she just called the beginning of the battle.
Then the water ripples and a hundred figures thrash their way towards the shore. The sirens.
I hold my stance firm, narrowing my eyes and clenching my jaw as my heart pounds and the warriors hum the war cry around me.
"Hold firm!" I command the army behind me. "Wait for them!"
The hum and rattle of weapons and shields intensify to a deafening crescendo. Finally, the boats and the sirens reach the shore. The sirens' tails morph into legs. Red Movement soldiers spill from their boats in the shallows and barrels towards us.
At last, we collide. I cry out and my sword swings, catching in someone's gut, spilling their intestines. I dance, cutting throats, jabbing heads and chests. A frightened Red Movement soldier tries to attack me from behind, but I spin around and cut them across the cheek. Their eyes fly open wide, and they run away. But I throw a knife into their back. Before they even hit the ground, I tear open someone else's throat. Arrows rain down from the Walls behind us, felling soldiers like trees. The chaos and fray around me roar and thunder. Ruben melts into the background, firing arrows and barking orders to his warriors. Aston bounces around me on the balls of his feet, my mirror and battle companion. Ajax slashes his way through the sirens. Blood stains the sand and tints the water. Screams and gurgles of agony burrow into my bones. I parry with enemies and slice them down like their little more than obstacles in my path. But as much as we try to fight and kill, the sirens rise from the dead within minutes of falling. Some of the Red Movement soldiers and sirens slip past our defenses and into the bunkers, making their way into the kingdom. Fear grapples at my throat, knowing they will arrive at the Convex Sector first.
And where the hell is Edward?
The terror increases when I spot a lone figure rowing across the lake towards the battle. A tall, broad figure I recognise at once. Theseus.
He catches my gaze as he moors his boat and leaps off into the waves and sneers. Ruben yanks me out of the way of a flying dagger tearing towards my skull.
That's when a white, blond figure darts across the beach, coming from the bunker. Edward. A manic cackle spills from his throat and his hands tremble like he's high on shadowteeth blood. Probably is. He dodges knives and swords and arrows, making a straight line towards Theseus. I expect him to pull out his blade and slash the half-siren across the throat.
But instead, he pulls Theseus into a hug, clapping his back.
YOU ARE READING
After the Walls
Fantasy[Book 3 of the Within the Walls Trilogy] Who is Elle Fallon? Is she a selfless hero? Or is she a girl driven to madness trying to protect the ones she loves? Months have passed since the battle beyond the walls and rumour has it she has chosen to...
