The Way We Fall

Chapter 191 (Tigris)

A voice had twined through her dreams, familiar and feminine. She spoke of terrible things, of her knights being turned against her and her bloodthirsty brother approaching. Tigris had sunk deep into unconsciousness, but the hauntingly feminine had tickled the recesses of her mind with familiarity.

Roche.

The name came to her as the Ala bellowed, "WAKE UP!"

Tigris shot upright, her hand instinctively darting for her sword. Her eyes caught on familiar molten brown irises that peered at her through a swirling mass of inkblood.

Tigris' grip on her sword faltered.

"Roche?" she whispered, her mind racing. Was this some kind of trick? Roche didn't have inkblood, how was this possible?

Her friend peered at her through the strange ring of inkblood intently. There was no mistaking the intelligent gleam of her eyes and the small smile tucked in the corners of her lips. It was Roche. It was truly Roche. And Roche had brought her several warnings that needed to be heeded.

Tigris opened her mouth to press for details when a flicker of movement in her tent caught her eye. Behind the strange inkblood ring, two glowing eyes blinked to life. Teeth flashed for a moment, and then the uskoi was lunging for her, charging through Roche's inkblood ring.

Tigris vaulted out of bed, swinging her sword down. It took a few blows, but the creature dispersed into a cloud of smoke. Tigris grabbed her torch and charged out of her tent. It was still dark outside, about an hour from dawn. They were near the border of Moiris, nearly at their battlefield.

The knights guarding her tent startled as Tigris charged through, grass prickling her feet. They jumped to attention.

"My lady!" Sir Harold cried out, sounding a bit mortified. Tigris realised that she was in her nightgown and completely undressed. It didn't matter. They didn't have time.

"Get everyone up," she ordered, her jaw setting when she drew blank stares from her knights, "We need to get to Moiris and get into position, now. Finn's coming. He has an enchantment that will warp the minds of our knights."

Harold and Ruth exchanged a glance. Ruth cleared her throat, stepping closer with a placating expression.

"Milady, are you sure?" the knight pressed, her lavender eyes gleaming with worry, "How did you figure this out?"

Tigris bit her lip, feeling a flare of heat burst through her. She must have looked like a lunatic raving about a dream in her state. But she had no time to argue. She yanked open the flaps of her tent, pointing to the splatters of inkblood on the ground.

"That!" she announced, watching her guards go pale, "I got a message. Now, we don't have time to waste. Wake everyone before it's too-"

Tigris was cut off by a sudden thud that shook the earth. It came from the edge of their encampment, at the furthest end from Moiris.

"What was that?" Harold murmured as the other knights poked their heads out of their tents, roused from their sleep by the noise.

Tigris darted back into her tent, tearing off her nightgown and slipping into her fighting clothes in a quick motion. She held her sword tight to her side as she strode back out.

"Move!" she bellowed to the knights, lofting her sword and torch, "We're under attack!"

She turned back around to the edge of the camp and watched as their torches began to die one by one. It started out slow, the quick blink of flames winking out, leaving crushing darkness in its place. In the fleeting light of the embers, Tigris watched her knights trudge out of their tents. She glimpsed their faces.