She had to get help, but Isabella managed to put Edward and Garrett on the horse cart Rosalie found for Katrina. It was a tight squeeze, but there wasn't a chance in hell Isabella would leave her husband’s side.
Jasper had gone around the city setting everything on fire. The townspeople were told they could make their way to Stormcoast with the True-Sworn if they were willing to relocate, or they could start fresh in another city if they were so inclined. Secretly, Isabella didn't see how they could all make it through Winter Forest without succumbing to the powers of the Nightmares, but she figured they had the right to make the decision for themselves.
“I found a gift for you,” Emmett said as he threw Mikael at her feet.
“And I didn’t get you anything.”
“Please,” Mikael cried in a hoarse whisper. “I didn't mean anything by it!”
She knew what she wanted to do with him, but she wouldn't give her thoughts away. She asked Emmett for something with which to bind Mikael and took great pleasure in using the discarded chains which once bound her fellow women.
“Please, princess. I beg of you to let me go.”
Isabella’s eyes filled with cold, feral hate as she watched him grovel on his knees. Ripping a strip of cloth from along the bottom of her already ruined cloak, she stuffed the middle in his mouth and tied it behind his head.
“What doesn’t kill you will make you wish you were dead.”
Taking a length of rope, she tied his chains to the back of the cart before climbing in to recline alongside Edward. He remained silently praying for Garrett, watching him closely for signs of declining life. So far, Garrett held steady, though he was clearly on the precipice of the afterlife. Edward, on the other hand, was bleeding steadily from a wound in his upper arm. Isabella had bound it with the first bit she’d ripped from her cloak, but the trickle would not slow. She checked it now and found it had soaked through the cloth. Steeling her nerves, she took another chunk of cloth from what she had left, bunching it up and pressing it to the spot. With another long strip, she tied the balled cloth in place and hoped it would serve as a bandage for the long trip home.
They planned to move quickly once every warrior was accounted for and either able to mount their horse or had been placed in a cart. Sulpicia had been so overwrought from Aro’s death that she’d eventually passed out. She was in another cart which would be hauled behind Irina’s horse. There were others who were injured, but it appeared they would all survive. Indeed, they’d all promised they were well enough to ride on their own horses back to Stormcoast.
As they pulled out of the courtyard of the burning city, Isabella’s gaze was locked on her soul mate. She didn't know what she would do if Edward died. Rosalie had not been able to tell her anything which would give her some hope. The cuff was made for him, and there was no telling if it would help Garrett until one could be made for him with the magic afforded to Rosalie by the sword. It was likely he and Katrina would be in on the family secret so he could wear an element for eternity the same as the others. Considering his wound, he wouldn't live without one. After recent events, Isabella would advocate for truth among all the inhabitants of their city. Keeping them quiet had not helped one iota in the long run.
Edward’s injuries were enough to make Isabella nervous. His bleeding arm could be fatal if the flow couldn't be stopped. Isabella wouldn't know what to do without him, there was no doubt about that. He was someone who shared her burdens, lessened her load, and someone with whom she could be herself. Nobody else would be able to fill that void in her life if the worst should happen. She shook her head, pressing her fist to her lips to stifle the sob that wanted to rip up her throat. She tried to be strong for Edward. He would need her.
Mikael trotted along behind the horse cart, and that was something for which she could be grateful. He’d had such a big part in the treachery; though she had known he was guilty to some extent, there had been no proof. Now she had all she needed, and she looked forward to watching her mother execute him. Assuming he made it all the way home, of course. She wouldn't shed a tear for him if he perished along the way.
There were many extra travelers with them, meaning they moved more slowly than they would have preferred. Once the large group reached the forest, The Purifier began her chanting. It looked as if the cat was out of the bag as all the villagers watched the Wandering Nightmares appear with terror marring their faces. Some gasped or cried, some stared straight ahead as they’d been directed, and some panicked. Those were the ones who suffered the effects, and Isabella’s head pounded from the sounds of the afflicted. They were hauled into carts or onto the backs of horses, screaming about how they couldn't see or hear. The nightmares had never been known to kill anyone directly, merely using their powers to cause people to wander the forest endlessly, perishing from starvation, grave injuries, or from their foe using the situation to their advantage.
They finally made it to the other side, and Isabella felt the urge to mount a horse and ride hell-for-leather. She knew a horde had made their way to the citadel earlier in the day, as there were too few Forsaken remaining at Grimhold for it to be otherwise. The smoking city could no longer be seen; neither could she yet see her home. Edward moaned, drawing her attention down to his face.
“Love?”
“I think . . . I think—”
Though it didn't escape her mouth, a scream echoed through her head as Edward slumped forward over his brother. Calmly, she picked up his injured arm and found it drenched with his blood. Though her heart was in her throat, she steadily unwrapped the cloth binding and studied the viscous substance continuously flowing from the wound. With a sudden clarity, she pulled her drakkar pendant over her head and looped it over his. If she were the one to fall in battle, so be it. The death sentinels would carry her to glory, the best for which she could hope. She understood that Edward had to save his brother’s life, but she had to do what she could to save his.
“Something is wrong!”
Isabella glanced up at her brother-in-law’s shout. “What is it?”
Jasper responded, “The gate is unmanned.”
She squinted, the pounding in her head increasing. “We must make ready to fight.”
Though her stomach swam, she jumped down from the cart, noting how Mikael panted in a heap on the ground. Sparing little thought for him, she removed the rest of her battered cloak and picked up her shield. Unsheathing her sword, she gave one last look at the love of her existence.
Despite knowing he couldn't hear her, she murmured, “I’ll love you until the sun turns black in the sky.” With a kiss to his temple, she turned to face the next battle.
The warriors who were well enough to fight totaled less than ten. Some were wounded and unable to join, though they tried. By the time they mounted up, there were seven True-Sworn headed into battle.
With a war cry, Isabella set off at a gallop, her family and clanswomen behind her. The gate was broken in the middle, large splinters of wood hanging askew. The sound of steel clashing with steel was distant, telling Isabella the fighting was inside her home.
“For Sandhorne!” she shouted as she urged her horse through the rubble in the courtyard and directly inside the front doors of the citadel.
She found three sentinels in a circle formation fighting against the remaining Forsaken. Many bodies littered the floor, some injured and attempting to rise, and some eternally motionless. What she never expected to find was her mother bleeding on the ground with her father and a few others tending to her.
Jasper and Alise immediately went to offer their assistance to their parents. Irina dismounted when she saw Magwyn on the floor, picking her up and carrying her down the hall away from the fighting.
Rage-Scream proved once again why she carried that particular moniker, screaming and launching her man catcher at their nearest enemy. When the teeth of the weapon closed around his chest, The Bull grunted and fought against the strength of the woman about to take him down. She yanked on the handle and brought him close enough to drive her dagger into his throat, splattering blood across her face and his. He slid to the floor, and she dismounted to move to her mother’s side.
Tanja and her wolf, Akira, joined Widow-Maker in dismounting, readying their swords to fight off the last two Forsaken warriors. The Cobra and The Doom split up, circling behind the women. Akira growled deep in her throat, a clear warning against those who challenged her mistress. Widow-Maker felt someone join them, but didn't turn to see who. It didn't take great intuition to realize it was Skull-Strike; his shadow gave him away. The large man intimidated the others, something which amused Isabella. She’d taken Emmett down on more than one occasion in training, but whatever was necessary to put fear into the fearless.
With a swing of her sword, Isabella forced The Cobra back. He struck fast, proving why he earned his nickname, and sliced her cheek. With a hiss and gritted teeth, she steadied her weapon and swung once more. Wild-Claw backed up to nock an arrow on her bow, aiming for the man moving light on his feet and attempting to kill Widow-Maker. Akira made a leap, tearing at The Cobra’s arm and moving away just in time to avoid his blow. Isabella attacked his injured arm, slicing him open from shoulder to elbow. It wasn't enough to stop him, but the arrow let loose from Wild-Claw’s bow did the deed. The Cobra fell back, quivering on the ground.
Isabella looked up at Tanja with questions in her eyes. Tanja smirked. “Venom-Tongue gave me her arrows.”
“Then use them on The Doom and end this thing.”
Nodding, the archwarrior turned away and watched the skirmish between Emmett and The Doom. The two were closely fighting, almost hand to hand, causing her to hesitate. If she hit Emmett, there would be nothing she could do to save him from the poison-coated arrows.
“He’s immortal,” Isabella said from her side.
“Oh.” So many things sifted through her mind with that information, but she no longer hesitated in taking the shot. She hit The Doom square in his large head, the arrow leaving a small hole and falling away. “Fuck.”
She moved back to give her arrows the distance needed to be deadly. Although she could see the effects of her hit spreading from the wound she’d created, The Doom still moved against Skull-Strike. His forehead oozed blood, and the veins surrounding it turned green. Though he slowed, he hacked at Emmett, regardless. Emmett hit him square in the chest with his mace, pushing him back far enough that Wild-Claw could follow up the blow with an arrow to the heart.
When the last man fell, a desperate cry went up from one of the sentinels. Isabella rested her hand on Renee’s shoulder. “You did well, my lady. You saved the citadel. Rest until a healer can tend to you.”
Renee finally gave way to her emotions, and tears streamed down her face. “Thank you, princess.”
Isabella felt torn between seeing to her mother and checking on Edward. After a moment’s hesitation, she walked to her family and sat on the steps. “How is she?”
Rosalie spoke from her position next to Esme. “She’ll be healed within the hour. The blood needs to be washed away so there’s no chance for infection, and she’ll need to rest to regain her strength.”
“Thank the gods you arrived when you did,” Athenodora said in a voice heavy with tears.
“What happened?” Jasper demanded.
“I don't know,” she whispered.
“Caius attacked your chieftess as we made ready to open the door and assist the sentinels. To what end, I couldn't say.” Carlisle glanced with derision at the barely alive body of the traitor.
“We have much to discuss, but we need to bring in the injured first.” Isabella rose and made her way out to the courtyard. A handful of Blackthorn villagers huddled around the cart holding Garrett and Edward, and she quickened her steps.
“What is it?” she inquired with bile rising in her throat.
“Princess.” One man faced her and inclined his head. “I believe I can fix the wound in this man’s arm.”
She shivered as the remains of the adrenaline rush dispersed. “Thank you, but I am not sure if it will be necessary. My sister can heal him.”
He nodded and moved to check on the others. Isabella looked up at Emmett, Eleazar, and Jasper’s approach.
“We’ll take them to the sword room. Rosalie will join us momentarily.”
She nodded at Emmett, hoping the switching of magical elements hadn't caused any lasting harm. She touched her cheek, coming away with mostly dried blood on her fingertips. She would live. Hurriedly, she followed her brothers as they lifted her husband and carried him off. One thing she could be certain of was that everything would be different when the sun rose in the morning.
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