Around us, humans stared. A dozen of them or more. Some were holding makeshift weapons. Others were empty-handed, clearly non-combatants who'd been caught in the open when the attack started.
They were all looking at me like they couldn't quite believe what they'd just seen.
One of them spoke, and after a moment, Lexa nodded. “There are more setting shit on fire. We need to move,” she told me.
I could smell the smoke now, acrid and thick. Hear the crackle of flames eating through whatever materials these structures were made of.
Lexa and I ran.
The fires were worse than I'd expected. Entire sections of the settlement were burning, flames climbing walls and jumping between buildings. Humans were fighting the blazes with water and sand, trying to contain the damage.
The firebirds were making it impossible.
They dove and struck, scattering the firefighting efforts. Forcing people to choose between putting out flames and defending themselves. It was a brutal tactic, one designed to maximize chaos and destruction.
One of the birds spotted us. It banked hard, changed trajectory to come straight at Lexa.
I put myself between them.
The bird hit me like a battering ram. Talons raked across my chest, found the gaps between my scales. Pain exploded through my torso, but I didn't let go. I wrapped my arms around its body, pinned its wings.
It thrashed, trying to get its beak to my throat. I tucked my chin, protected the vulnerable arteries. Its beak scraped across my shoulder instead, tore through scale and into muscle.
Lexa was there. Her knife found the base of the bird's skull, drove in with surgical precision. The creature went rigid, then limp.
I dropped it, pressed my hand to the wound on my shoulder. Blood welled between my fingers, hot and slick.
"How bad?" Lexa's hands were already checking the injury, her touch gentle despite the urgency.
"I'm fine." I wasn't, but we didn't have time for field medicine. Two more birds were still out there.
We found them together, harrying a group of humans who were trying to evacuate children from a burning structure. The birds were working as a team, one diving while the other circled high to strike anyone who tried to run.
Lexa pointed to the higher one. "I'll draw it down. You take the other."
She didn't wait for confirmation, just ran into the open. Waved her arms, made herself a target. "Hey! Over here, you ugly bastard!"
The bird took the bait. It folded its wings, dove straight at her.
I charged the lower one. It saw me coming, tried to adjust its attack pattern. Too slow. I caught it mid-turn, my claws finding purchase in its chest. We went down together, rolling across the ground in a tangle of wings and limbs.
The bird got its beak around, caught my forearm. The serrated edges cut deep, scraped against bone. I roared, more rage than pain, and drove my other hand into its throat. Squeezed until cartilage collapsed.
It died choking on its own blood.
I looked up in time to see Lexa finish her opponent. She'd somehow gotten on its back, was riding it like some kind of deranged woman. Her knife flashed once, twice, three times. The bird's flight pattern stuttered, became erratic.
They hit the ground hard. Lexa rolled clear, came up in a crouch with her knife ready.
The bird didn't get up.
For a moment, everything was quiet. Just the crackle of flames and the ragged sound of breathing. Mine, Lexa's, the humans scattered around us.
Then footsteps. Running, organized, purposeful.
Settlement security descended on us from three directions. At least a dozen of them, all armed with those blaster weapons. The barrels tracked our movements, fingers on triggers.
We were surrounded.
