“It doesn’t sound ridiculous,” I say. “It’s clearly a magical sword, maybe it has ways of talking to its owner.”
“Except, Beau ain’t its owner,” Dray points out.
“Maybe he is now. Stay close,” I tell Briony, as we huddle together ready to meet the demon assault, arms raised, bodies tense. The demons call to each other in their high-pitched squawking voices, squabbling in the sky, soaring our way, their scarlet eyes bleeding into the darkness.
“Run!” Beaufort calls, and we all sprint, firing our shadows and our light as we do at the demons that drive towards us.
Several burst into flame, one disintegrates into dust, but the rest dodge and swerve our attack, retreating away as we reach the shelter of the rock. We hunker underneath the protection the thick stone provides and catch our breath.
“You’re doing well,” I tell Briony.
She nods, although her face, even in this darkness, looks as pale as the moon.
“Get ready, they’re coming again,” Beaufort calls out above the cacophony of noise as more demons come gliding either side of the rock, attempting to pincer us in.
Beaufort works with Dray to eliminate the ones behind us, while I work with Briony to destroy the ones at our front.
I’m concentrating on my own work, and yet I still steal glances her way, amazed at how much her power has grown, how the light obliterates all the darkness, driving the demons into retreat.
My shadows have always been formidable, far more dominant than any other shadow weavers I’ve met – even Beaufort and Dray’s. And yet, beside the beams of light that radiate from Briony’s hands they look pathetic and useless, and I wonder if everything I ever heard about the old light wielders being weaker than us shadow weavers could be true.
We take out a handful more demons, the others once again rushing away and we take the opportunity to rally.
“Okay?” Beaufort asks Briony, stroking his hands down her sides. Her face is covered in grime, her hair shook loose around her face but other than that she looks unharmed. I sigh in relief. It’s short-lived, another swarm of demons bombarding us before I’ve even drawn another breath. There are many more this time.
“We’re trapped,” I yell.
“Bollocks,” Dray curses.
However, Briony doesn’t hesitate, she sends her magic streaming up towards the demons, picking them off one at atime. I join her, sending my shadows racing to join her light, as Beaufort charges with his sword from out behind the rock, along with Dray’s wolf.
The demons battle fiercely against our magic, a few swerve past it altogether, reaching down to us, and scraping and clawing at us with their deadly talons. One curls its talons around my arm, another pierces my skull with its claw, a third hisses right in my face, its breath rancid and foul. I blast them away, my shadows more wild and frantic than I’ve ever known them, determined to keep the woman beside us safe from harm.
Behind us, I hear Beaufort grunting and the wolf whining and I can determine the fight is no more easy for them.
And still they come, tumbling from the sky like monstrous hail, landing on the ground, kicking up the dust until it’s swirling like something possessed and alive. It flicks into my eyes, shoots up my nose, coats my tongue. I cough and splutter, my eyes watering. I don’t have time to wipe away the dirt, I keep firing my shadows, the world blurring in an ocean of grays, the taste in my mouth bitter and stale.
I yell at Briony as a demon creeps up behind her, I catch one in a web of shadows, breaking it apart. I stare into their grotesque faces, their soulless eyes, and watch them perish.
And finally, somehow, we’re pushing them back, forcing them away from us, and then I’m blasting the final demon into flames.
Briony and I stand there side by side, shoulders rising and falling, breaths hurried and panted, sweat mingling with dust even in this bitter cold. We stare up into the empty sky, my magic running alongside hers. Shadows against radiance. Darkness against light. It would be easy to forget where we are, the hideousness of our surroundings. It would be easy to get lost in the beauty above us, in the wonder of it.
I drop my gaze from the sky and down to Briony. Her face is illuminated by the light and she looks like an angel, like something mythical and otherworldly. My heart aches in my chest. I wish I had the words to describe how I feel in this moment, how incredible I find this woman, how much she has changed me and my life.
Finally, she lowers her hand, retracting her magic back inside herself and my shadows do the same, as if they’re following her command and not mine.
I open my mouth to say something but then her attention is caught by something else.
“Dray,” she cries, racing away behind us.
My bond brother lies on the ground, Beaufort crouched beside him. His chest is a bloody mess but his face contains his usual wide grin, even if it’s a little forced.
“Hey Kitten, I’m fine. Just a scratch.”
“A scratch?!” she cries, dropping to her knees and assessing the damage.
“One of those assholes caught me with his claws. Nothing Beau can’t fix, is it?” Dray says.
