Deliverance
Page 115

 C.J. Redwine

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“Thank you,” I say to Frankie. My voice is hoarse, my entire body shaking as I gather Rachel into my arms and hold her like I never mean to let go.
Frankie glares at me and then includes Rachel and Quinn as well. He raises one beefy finger and stabs it at us. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” His hand trembles. “I’m here to tell you that if I have to fish any of you out of sinkholes or keep your fool selves from drowning again, I will personally beat the sense right out of you. Are we clear?”
Rachel smiles at him. “I love you, too.”
He tightens his lips, and his eyes glisten, and then he hauls all three of us into a hug. It’s like being squeezed by an enormous bear. “Fool kids going and putting yourselves right smack in the worst possible places every time I turn around.”
“Cozy,” Willow says as she and Adam approach. Frankie lets go of us, turns on his heel, and drags Willow and Adam against his chest as well. I expect Willow to give him grief, but she tolerates it.
“Where are Nola and Smithson?” Frankie asks after he’s done giving Adam and Willow the same lecture he just gave us. I reluctantly let go of Rachel and take stock of our surroundings.
Outside, the sounds of battle are unmistakable. Clashing swords. Shouted orders. The Rowansmark army doesn’t realize it’s lost its leader.
“Adam, see if you can find something that will work as a white flag and fly it from one of the turrets,” I say.
As Adam hurries to do my bidding, I search the square for signs of Nola and Smithson. The river’s new path takes it right through the square and down the multiple tunnels created by the tanniyn. The current is strong, and the water looks deep. A few of the tanniyn still flop around in the water, trying desperately to gouge their claws into the cobblestones and drag themselves out of the water’s flow, but it’s too strong. Too high. Too powerful, even for them.
I last saw Nola trapped between a pile of debris and a crack in the ground, with Smithson trying desperately to reach her. With Rachel, Frankie, Quinn, and Willow on my heels, I hurry past tanniyn corpses and crumbled piles of brick until I reach that spot.
They’re gone.
I spin on my heel, a slow circle to survey the entire square, and then I see them. Smithson is lying on his back at the edge of the water’s flow, his eyes staring at nothing, while Nola is hunched over his body, sobbing.
“Oh no.” Rachel runs past me and flings herself onto the ground beside Smithson. I’m right behind her.
“He saved me,” Nola sobs. “He picked me up and threw me onto the grass so I could climb the hill and be safe from the water, but that meant he couldn’t get out of the way in time.”
Rachel lays her head on Smithson’s chest, tears shining on her cheeks, and I swallow hard past the lump of grief in my throat. “He saved me, too. I was about to fall into a crack, and he grabbed me. He was a good friend. I’ll miss him.”
I want to say more—I should say more for the boy who chose to follow me, even after he lost Sylph. For the boy who quietly fought at my side, and who sacrificed himself to save his friends—but I can’t speak past the ache of loss. I hope he’s with Sylph again. That he’s found a measure of peace he couldn’t find on this earth.
“I’ll help Nola,” Frankie says quietly. “Seems to me we have one more enemy who needs to be dealt with.” He nods toward the gate, and I realize the sounds of combat have ceased. Up on the wall, Adam is waving a white flag of surrender.
The Commander has won his battle. Now he needs to lose the war.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
RACHEL
“One last thing to finish,” I say, and take Logan’s hand.
He pulls me against him, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “One last thing.”
Movement catches my eye, and I see Marcus walking with unsteady steps around the edges of the square.
“First, though, there’s someone you need to meet,” I say. Logan doesn’t argue as I pull him with me.
We climb around the glistening, scaly corpses of the tanniyn to reach Marcus just as he stops beside the ruins of the stage. He sees me and hurries forward.
“Sons? Mine? Saved?” Worry trembles through his voice.
Maybe it’s because the pain of losing Smithson is fresh, maybe it’s because for all of the horrible things Ian did, he made the ultimate sacrifice to redeem himself in the end, but tears slip down my face again as I say, “Ian saved us. He sacrificed himself and died a hero. I’m sorry, Marcus.”
He raises shaking hands toward his chest.
“But Logan was saved. He’s right here.” I grab Logan’s arm and pull him closer.
Marcus takes three steps toward him and throws his arms around his son.
“Logan.” One word, but the joy on his face tells the entire story.
Slowly, Logan raises an arm and awkwardly pats his father’s back. Behind me, Willow, Quinn, Nola, and Frankie join us.
“Love you. Love. Always. My son.” Marcus leans his face against Logan’s and mutters a stream of words that make no sense but somehow still sound like him telling his son how much he was missed.
Logan’s arm falls to his side, and Marcus steps back, a shadow of worried hurt on his face.
“Marcus, we have to leave for a bit, but then we can come back for you so that you can spend some time with Logan,” I say. “You two just need to get to know each other. You’ve known about him for his entire life. He’s only known about you for a few weeks.”