The monster slammed into the front of Orx’s shop. The window shattered, raining shards down on the burrower’s unfeeling hide.
“Come on, ugly,” Dairen called, and as the burrower turned toward him, he slashed his sword across its maw. The burrower jerked back, slamming into Orx’s shop so hard the building shook.
Dairen turned and ran, drawing it away, and the monster followed.
He whirled to face it just as the creature lunged, striking like a serpent. It caught Dairen around the middle, slamming him against a wall. My nails dug into the windowsill. Dairen hacked at its side, blood spraying—but the burrower twisted and lashed, and Dairen went down hard.
He didn’t rise.
“Gods, no.” Who was near enough to help him? I pressed my face to the glass, trying to see every angle of the street. When it didn’t work, I tried to get the latches open, finally throwing the window open.
“Tay, are you all right if I leave you to help…” I didn’t know how I could help.
“I’m good,” he promised me.
I ran down the stairs. I was the only one close to Dairen; he was right outside the mayor’s hall. Maybe I could get to him and drag him in if the burrowers were distracted by the other shifters.
When I reached the bottom floor, I was halfway to the door when the wood groaned under the pressure of something slamming against it from the outside. The burrowers were trying to force their way in.
I staggered back, my pulse a wild drum in my ears. There was no way out.
Tay and I were in trouble.
Back up the stairs, two at a time. I burst into the tower room again. I sealed the door, then ran over and leaned out the window.
Dairen lay crumpled on the stones, blood pooling beneath him.
Fieran swayed on his feet, his face pale, one hand pressed to his side where blood seeped through his shirt. He sheathed his sword, magic lining them both for a second, before he knelt and lifted his friend onto his shoulders. Fieran staggered upright, looking as if he were barely standing, but still he reached for his friend.
The door to Orx’s shop stood open. I blinked, sure I was seeing something wrong.
Lidi stood at the door, beckoning them toward her. Toward safety.
For a stunned second, joy at seeing my sister alive and well after the burrowers’ attack on the shop lit my heart. But the door yawning wide open was an invitation not just to the shifters, but to every burrower left alive.
Where was Orx?
Too late, he reached her side, reaching to close the door. Then he stopped, his gaze following hers.
Fieran shouldered his wounded friend, staggered across the square, and disappeared inside. The door slammed shut between us.
“Lidi,” I whispered, terror rising sharp in my throat.
Through the window of the shop, shadows flickered. I caught only glimpses, fragments that made no sense: Fieran looming, his hands raised. Orx’s stout shape collapsed backward. My sister’s upturned face, her expression impossible to read as golden light reflected off her skin.
Then that awful reddish glow. The awful, unmistakable glow of magic unraveling.
The glow that had surrounded me in those last seconds when the Fae bled my magic from me.
“No!” My fists beat against the stone windowsill, as if I could shatter it and throw myself across the square. My throat tore with soundless protest.
The light ripped out of her small frame, drawn into him. Her body sagged. Fieran’s shoulders bowed, golden fire kindling in his veins.
I couldn’t breathe.
There was a thud against the house as if it had been hit by a cart. A burrower. The tower itself seemed to creak. I froze, heart pounding.
The door below creaked and groaned under the weight of claws, the screech of mandibles tearing through wood. I held my breath, hoping it would hold.
