“Steady,” I say, more confident now, touching another spot and pouring more magic into the ground, this time willing it out, in a line through the trees.
For an instant, I don’t think it’ll be enough. My heartbeat keeps pounding, and I feel like I can’t catch my breath. Magic always seems reluctant when I need it most, and I try to force myself to relax.
—Found you,the scraver says, just as he sounds an earsplitting screech that makes every hair on my skin stand up. I’m not going to be fast enough.
A man shouts from the other side of the flames. “He’s there! The magesmith!”
Silver hell.I think of Jax and the others. If this doesn’t work, they’re dead.
I close my eyes and try to shake off the panic. But then the magicfinally gives, sudden flames bursting off the ground, surging high and wide, a wall of flame jetting off in two directions. Mercy spooks again, dragging me back. I dig in my heels and gasp, trying to hold fast, but the rein snaps, and her bridle gives.
Her hooves dig into the turf as she bolts away, and I can feel my magiclurchas she leaves me. Flames surround me, filling the air with smoke that instantly obscures the stars and makes it hard to breathe. Now it’s more than just a wall. From the other side of the flames, men and women shout. Horses scream and whinny as they encounter the fire, and I cringe— then cough, as smoke fills my lungs. The fire is suddenlyeverywhere, as if the entire forest is on fire. The heat is intense, and sweat drips into my eyes. I blink and I’m surrounded.
I turn and run, though it’s like the fire wants to follow. Flames lick around my boots, rushing through the underbrush as I sprint through the smoke- filled woods. My lungs are screaming now, and I’ve somehow lost the path.
And I’m alone.
Oh, Mercy. I need you.
But at the same time, I’m glad I sent the others to safety. I’m glad my mare ran. They’re safe.
And the human Truthbringers are panicked, though some are finding a way around the flames. Hopefully I’ve created enough of a distraction that my soldiers can gain distance to get to safety.
Fire grabs for my boots, for my trousers. I can’t remember the last time I could draw a good breath. I’m disoriented, and I’m suddenly worried I’ve turned around, that I’m heading back into the flames.
Without warning, a cold wind swoops between the trees, making the flames flicker and spread farther. The scraver shrieks overhead, and then his voice comes right to my ears.
— I’m not afraid of your fire, little magesmith.
Another blast of wind blows the smoke back and away from me, bringing immediate relief— until I realize that the scraver is swooping down through the trees, claws and fangs bared.
My eyes are still burning, and I can barely see, but his wings are wide and such a rich red they’d match the color of the flames. My right hand finds my sword automatically, my left hand drawing a dagger without thought— though I’m not going to be fast enough. At least I can try to take him out before he rips me apart. I swing my blades up and brace for impact.
But then his body jerks midair, and the resulting screech isn’t one of warning, it’s pain and rage. His flight cuts short, and he crashes into the smoldering underbrush fifteen feet away.
Swip. Swip.
I hear the arrows before I see the archer. The scraver screams again. Somewhere behind me, men are shouting, finding a way around the flames that are surging in the absence of the scraver’s magic. Smoke fills the air again, and I cough.
“Tycho!”
Jax’s voice. I whip around, but I can barely see him through the haze. I can’t tell if my eyes are blurry from the fires or if I’ve inhaled so much smoke that everything is dizzy.
Then something hits my left shoulder,hard. It feels like a punch, with a burn like acid. I stumble to my knees, and my dagger goes skipping into the fiery underbrush. I’m so dazed by the smoke and the pain that my head cracks into a tree. I fight for equilibrium, trying to whirl, to face this new assailant.
But there’s no one.
The crossbows.I’ve been hit.
I reach for the bolt, but it’s buried in my shoulder, and I can’t see anything. I can’tbreathe.
But then Jax is there, appearing through the smoke and flames likeI conjured him out of the air. He’s got his bow in one hand, Teddy’s reins drawn up tight in the other.
“Get up,” he says breathlessly. “Geton. I don’t know if I killed it, but I hear them coming.”
I’m able to find my feet, but when I reach for the saddle’s cantle, my shoulder screams at me. I’m dizzy again, pain stealing my breath in an entirely different way. But Jax throws the bow over his shoulder, then grabs hold of my good arm andpulls. Awkwardly, I swing onto Teddy’s back behind him. My breaths are coming too fast, and it’s like I’m keening with every exhale.
“Grab hold of me,” he says.
