He felt only dirt, grass, and the tree root trying to burrow into his ribs.
Think. What would his kirei do? She was clever.
He huffed out a breath through his nose and shoved himself backward with his foot, wincing when he jostled his dislocated shoulder again. Groping at that fresh patch of earth, he desperately searched for a stone.
Knowing Sera, she would be praying right about now, asking her God to drop a dagger clean out of the sky. As if such a thing would ever happen.
The forest behind him rustled. Leaves shivered. Wings fluttered.
A heartbeat later, something thumped into the grass just behind him. Frowning, he strained against the rope binding his wrists, trying to feel out the shape of the object that seemed to have dropped from the trees. His fingers brushed metal. A narrow hilt.
It was his boot knife.
Aldric froze. His breath caught in his throat.
But that was impossible. That was—
How…?
Carefully, he rolled a little more to his side, just enough that he could chance a glance over his shoulder. An odd shape lurked in the darkness between two tree roots: a scaled, serpentine body with dark wings.
Soot.
He stared into the usuru’s beady little eyes and blinked once.
The winged serpent blinked back.
But…how…?
No. Absolutely not. Impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Yet the dagger sat there all the same.
They must have simply made camp near where he had first dropped the blade. Except this patch of forest didn’t smell like smoke, nor did it look anything like the patch of forest where he had been captured.
Without uttering a single sound, Soot flared his wings and shot into the air, swiftly disappearing like a shadow bleeding into the night.
Behind him, Calix whispered, “What is it?”
“Nothing,” Aldric lied, curling his fingers around the dagger and carefully rolling to his back. He could tell no one about what had—maybe—just happened. They wouldn’t believe him anyway. Except Leif.
And maybe Sera. This seemed like the sort of thing his kirei would believe.
He sawed at the rope—slowly, carefully. Every snapped fiber sounded as loud as thunder to his own ears, but the shapes near the fire did not look up. They did not move.
The rope fell away from his wrists.
“Calix,” he whispered, working as quickly as he dared. “I need you to get the others out of here. Get Easome, too. Take Mourn ifyou can find him.” He didn’t want any witch touching his horse. “Make for Goldreach. Find Sera. Find Reyla. Protect them.”
Contorting himself just enough to reach down, he tried to cut through the rope biting into his ankles. On one swipe, he missed. Heat prickled across his skin.
Calix narrowed his one un-swollen eye. “I’m not leaving here without you.”
“Yes, you are,” he growled. “I’ll be fine here. They want me alive. But you?” He jerked his head. More hostages meant more mouths to feed. He didn’t imagine his Sons would last long here.
One last slice. The rope binding his ankles fell away.
He didn’t waste a second. Sliding over to Calix, ignoring the screaming in his shoulder, he freed his second-in-command and passed him the blade. Their eyes met in the darkness. Confusion knitted the other man’s brow.
