Finley tries to get to him, but he gets struck down too, making a furious roar tear from my throat. “Come on!” I yell to Kitt.
Suddenly, a ball of green light lobs toward us in a crackling streak. The blaze nearly slams into Kitt’s neck, and she screeches, pulling up short, wings flapping wildly.
Tyde grunts in pain as he gets jostled again. There’s another heave of light that nearly hits me, but Kitt drops at just the right time with a roar.
My timberwing then looks down at the ground, narrows her iridescent eyes, anddives.
“Kitt, no!”
I try to make her pull up, but she ignores my directions completely. She’s locked in on her prey, too pissed to listen to me.
Another ball of green shoots at us, but she jerks to the side, avoiding it without stopping. Below us, the magical fae starts to throw another fistful, but when he realizes she’s almost upon him, he shouts and tries to dive out of the way.
It doesn’t work.
Mouth opening full of razor-sharp teeth, she swoops down, maw clamping shut over the fae’s head and cutting off his scream. Kitt lifts in an arc, shaking the fae like a rag toy and decapitating him in the process. She tosses the rest of him away and flies back upward, circling, while the fae below us scatter.
Except for one archer that points his arrow right at her.
It happens slowly—like time is squeezed in a fist. I watch the arrow aim for her. I jerk on her reins, trying to move her, but her prey drive has overwhelmed her. She’s listening to that instead of me.
She doesn’t budge, doesn’t move, even as I pull with all my might, the reins slicing into my palms. A bellow of warning tears from my mouth for her to turn back, but it’s too late.
I’mtoo late.
The arrow hits with a sickening gush that makes my stomach drop, piercing right through her eye.
I shout out, my own voice clashing with Kitt’s screech that abruptly cuts off. Her entire body goes slack as we begin to plummet, the ground rushing up at us while Tyde and I can do nothing but hold on.
“Brace!” I warn him, and then a second later, we hit.
We land hard, in a spray of snow and the cracking bones of my timberwing that also cracks something in me.
The fist around time lets go. Everything is so much faster and louder on the ground. The screams, the cracking earth, the catapults launching.
We’re on a strip of narrow snow with gaping chasms on either side of us, and when I whip my head over, I see fae running at us, swords drawn.
“Tyde!”
Unbuckling myself as fast as possible, I tear myself free of the saddle and rip the sword from my scabbard as I leap off Kitt’s back. Three fae soldiers are upon me in an instant, and I barely have time to meet the first’s blade.
Raging grief over the death of my timberwing fuels my movements, and everything else empties from my thoughts except my need to kill.
Years of training and combat take over.
I block the fae soldier’s sword attack, letting stone clang against metal. Another one of them tries to come at me from the left, but I drag my blade down enough to shove the first aside, and then kick him in the knee as hard as I fucking can.
He goes sprawling back, and I press in, swinging my sword at his neck and slicing through his throat before he’s even able to get his feet steady. Spinning, I meet the other fae’s sword again,circling him, pressing my advantage and blocking his strikes, remembering every single vulnerable part in their armor.
When he lifts his arms higher to block another one of my attacks, I yank the dagger from my waist and stab him in the exposed part of his underarm.
The second he falters, I grip my sword with both hands again and pierce him through his armor, at a weak spot right between two stones. He falls to the ground, and I pull my dagger out of him and turn, looking for the third fae. Fear flashes through me when I see he’s moving toward Tyde.
Tyde, who still hasn’t managed to unbuckle from the saddle, one arm useless with the arrow stabbed through it, holding his sword sloppily in the other.
With my hands flexing around my sword and dagger, I leap forward just as the fae manages to knock the weapon from Tyde’s grip. With a cry, I hack into the fae’s neck, teeth gritted, eyes full of fury.
Blood spews from the wound and splatters onto his helmet. He whirls around to look at me, but it’s too late. I’ve landed the killing blow. His eyes go wide just before he falls to the ground, his blood staining the snow.
