Beyond him, the air erupts with sound as more scravers fill the sky. Some are attacking the barn, and some are heading for us. More than ten. Dozens, maybe.
We’re never going to be able to handle them all. The wind is howling, their screeching so shrill my heart keeps stuttering, wanting to panic.
Stars burst in my vision, and wind blasts around us, my magic responding to my emotion.
“I’m out,” Jax calls, but I already knew. He has blades in hand, and I see his fingers flex on the hilts. I have no idea how skilled he is with a dagger, but I guess we’re all going to find out.
“I have four,” says Sephran, already lining up a shot, a second arrow pinned in his palm.
I think of lightning, and the sky flashes as a bolt cracks down to the earth, barely clipping a few branches that fall in a spray of sparks and flames. Sephran swears and scrambles back against the doorway, but the scravers aren’t frightened this time. Two dive at once, one aimingstraight for Jax, the other aiming for Sephran. He shoots, but the wind is too wild, and he’s not as good as Jax. The arrow narrowly misses.
But then a throwing blade comes from behind, slicing right into one of the scravers’ wings, quickly followed by another. The scraver shrieks and falls, just as another blade flies, trailed by an arrow that goes right into the chest of the second scraver.
Across the forge, Sephran looks up, and his eyes light with surprise, and then he grins. For days, they’ve been at odds, but just now, true relief washes across his expression.
I know that look of camaraderie when a soldier sees a friend in the thick of battle. I don’t even need the snow to clear to see who’s coming up the lane. Before I know it, I find myself smiling, too.
Mal, Alek, and Callyn have arrived.
CHAPTER 34
ALEK
I don’t know what these idiots are smiling at, because we’re never going to survive this. If it were in my nature to surrender, I would’ve laid down my sword half an hour ago. I’ve got a shallow scrape across my shoulder, a deeper one under my ribs, and my head is pounding like I’ve been up all night drinking.
Iwishthat’s what I was up all night doing.
Hell, I wish I could do it right now.
Instead, I’m swinging a sword at a winged monster who clearly wants me dead, and I’m desperately trying to cover Callyn’s left side in addition to my own. She keeps leaving herself open, and I’m terrified they’re going to rip her in half when she’s not looking. She’s strong and capable with a blade, but she’s still too inexperienced. If she were facing a swordsman instead of fangs and claws, she’d have a sword buried in her ribs already.
There are just too many of them. These stupid Emberish soldiers must be out of arrows, because no one is shooting, and now we’re all relying on daggers and swords. A scraver lets out a shriek right besidemy ear, and I spin automatically, already stabbing, and my blade drives right into its chest, just as claws clamp down on my arm.
I’m glad for the bracer. It hurts, but it doesn’t break the skin. The creature collapses to the ground, and I jerk the blade free.
Almost immediately, another one tackles me. The impact sends me to the ground, and I go skidding through the snow. Grit and dirt scrape along the back of my head, getting under my armor.
Fangs are coming for my throat, and it’s like a repeat of that moment in the sunlight with Callyn. It’s going to tear me apart.
But then I hear a shriek of rage, and this one is purely human. Callyn’s sword drives right into the creature’s rib cage. Its grip immediately goes slack.
She’s panting as she stares down at me, her chest heaving, breath leaving her mouth in short, clouded bursts. A note in every exhale tells me she’s riding a line between panic and determination. It won’t take much to make her yield.
Blood is in a spray across the front of her tunic, and she’s got a line of red down the side of her arm that could be hers or could be a scraver’s. Half her hair has come loose from her braid, and her eyes are a little wild.
I smile up at her like we’re just lying in a field, staring at the stars. “That wasexceptional,” I say. “Do it again.”
She huffs a laugh— but she yanks that blade free and swings just in time to drive it right into the next opponent, a new scraver who swoops into the forge, aiming for Sephran this time.
“Grab as many arrows as you can!” Jax yells, and I can tell he’s pulling any he can reach out of the fallen bodies. Overhead, thunder booms, and we all flinch, and then lightning strikes a tree beside the forge. Branches and leaves and wood all butexplodearound us with a crack of sound, fiery bits of ash flickering through the air.
“What keepsdoingthat?” I snap, trying to scramble to my feet.
“Me,” says Tycho from somewhere behind me. He sounds a bit strained and breathless. “Are they still attacking the barn?”
“Yeah,” calls Malin.
Wind surges, carrying snowflakes and still- flaming bits of wood from the first tree that exploded. My cheeks sting when either land on me. But thunder roars again, and another lightning strike hits near the barn. Then another. It’s louder than normal thunder, each crash bringing a surge of energy to the air that makes gooseflesh rise along my skin. I hate it.
