They kept coming.
Knavoar were rare. She’d never seen one, nor had she met anyone who had. Not even Cailean, who’d traveled The Uplands extensively, had mentioned encountering any. But now at least a dozen of them lurched toward them. They were surrounded.
“You need me,” she rasped. She should be panicking right now, yet she was suddenly watching events unfold from above. Maybe it was the fire-madness. It was dulling her reactions. “Fire will deal with them.”
“No,” Alar said, his tone sharp. Final. “It’ll take too much from you.”
“He’s right.” A nerve jumped in Bree’s cheek as she met Lara’s eye. “You can’t take the risk.”
“Salt works against knavoar,” Cailean said then. “If we had enough of it.”
They didn’t. Just a pouch each on their belts, and most of that was gone as they sprinkled salt around their campsite each night.
“Failing that … iron and steel,” Alar added, unsheathing his blades. Cailean then drew his own weapons. Roth did the same, moving forward to join them, while Sablebane and Fern edged back from the ring of guttering torches, nostrils flaring.
Ren approached then, her boots sliding on the frost that crept over the ground where they stood. The bard’s jaw was set.
“I’m ready,” she said, raising her hands before her.
Cailean nodded to her. A moment later, the tattoos visible on their necks and forearms glowed silver.
Lara moved back, giving them all space. Nonetheless, her pulse now raced. Bree stepped up to her side then, iron blade drawn, ready to defend her High Queen. Skaal joined them too—this was a fight the fae hound couldn’t take part in, for if her teeth or claws came in contact with a frost spirit, she’d die.
“Let them come to us,” Cailean growled then. “They’ll be weaker near firelight.”
No sooner had he spoken when the spidery knavoar lunged into a shambling run.
“Don’t let them get their hands on you,” Alar warned his companions. “Just one touch will freeze your blood.”
A wild song burst from Ren’s throat, shattering the stillness.
Iron sliced through the air, biting into ice.
Lara’s fingers clenched around her torch. Ruari and Annis drew closer to her, Bree, and Skaal, their gazes riveted upon the fight unfolding just yards away. Meanwhile, the Shee had all unsheathed their weapons, waiting.
Roth slipped on the icy ground then, rolling away just in time as long white fingers clutched for him. Snarling a curse, he bounced to his feet and sliced the frost spirit in half. Ice splintered.
Meanwhile, Cailean was a blur.His earth magic made him devastatingly fast. Lanky bodies shattered under his heavy broadsword.
Lara’s gaze seized upon Alar. Just like the first time she’d seen him, fighting off those powries, he moved like a dancer, his twin blades cleaving and stabbing. Knavoar surrounded him, but he dodged their snaking arms.
Mor muttered something under her breath then, pointing. Lara peered down the hill, her heart stuttering when she spied more lines of thin white figures staggering up the slope. Coming for them.
Drawing her own weapon, Mor strode forward, shouting to her Ravens.
Moments later, they’d joined the others. Steel rang amongst iron through the night. Ren edged back from the fighting, her voice faltering now. The cold was damaging her throat. She wouldn’t be able to go on for much longer.
Lara, Annis, and Ruari remained there, watching the fight unfold, while Bree moved forward in a protective stance. All three knew how to wield the daggers they carried, but none of them were warriors. It would be foolish to rush into that fight. Nonetheless, dread now sat like a stone on Lara’s breastbone.
Her limbs tingled from the deep cold that surrounded them. Each breath felt like inhaling shards of bone. The chill drilled deep into her torso.
“They are too many,” Annis rasped finally. “They can’t hold them back.”
“I know,” Lara whispered back. More frost spirits were filing up the hill now, closing the net.
Bree swiveled on her heel then, her expression fierce. “We must fall back.”
Lara shook her head. “No … I must wield fire.”
