I turn and nearly run into Flynn and Jocasta.Were they trying to reach me? Through a wall of fire?
Seeing them and the anxiety in their eyes snaps some of the threads holding me together and saps my courage. I want to fall into Flynn’s arms. I want him to carry me because I’m so heavy and tired, and my feet don’t work like they should.
Instead, I drag myself toward Griffin as fast as I can. Carver is banging away at the bird, but his blade slips off the armored feathers. The only chink seems to be in its underbelly, and the huge metallic bird is still thrashing over Griffin. The hilt of Griffin’s sword pounds into his chest with each powerful beat of the creature’s wings. His arms shake, and there’s a terrifying amount of blood.
My feet tangle up in each other, and I nearly fall. Flynn catches my elbow, but I shake him off, not willing to lean on him, not even looking at him. Believing I need help is the beginning of the end.
“I have a plan.” I stumble forward, counting on willpower and sheer insanity to get me through.
“What plan?” Flynn sounds distraught. He sounds sick with worry.
I don’t answer. He might try to stop me.
When I reach Griffin, my husband roars at me to get back. His cheeks and jaw are sliced to ribbons, like his arms, sides, and legs. Shredded clothing. Split muscle. Bone. But he’s still fighting. He caught the bird so I could eliminate the Magoi. His strength amazes me. Honors me. I’m not sickened by his state. I’m impressed. The man I love endures. He is me, and I am him. We are forged of the same passion and violence, and we have hearts of iron.
“I know what to do.” Magic leaps inside me. The ice shard around my neck throbs once, sending a shock of cold through my chest. It gives me strength. Griffin gives me courage.
“Get back!” he bellows. His grip slips on the blood-slicked hilt of his sword, and his face reddens as the ball at the base grinds viciously into his chest. His great, bloody arms tremble. “You swore to me!”
I swore to take only calculated risks. I calculated.
A final step puts me right behind Griffin’s head. My left arm flies out as the Stymphalian Bird’s head jerks up. Its black eyes meet mine, and I clamp my hand around its beak in the split second before its wings sweep forward and stab my arm.
Blades pierce both sides. Pain is sharp. Then hot. Then consuming. I grit my teeth and don’t let go.I can do this.I force my focus away from my throbbing arm and search for the spark of consciousness I need to take inside me and overpower.
The bird wrestles its head down, pulling my hand down with it. It unleashes the metallic feathers from its crest, and three short blades slam into my abdomen.
The sound that explodes from my mouth is inhuman. Griffin cries out with me. Shadows pulse around the edges of my vision—a blackness that threatens us all.
Terrified of the growing dark, I look down. Griffin looks back at me, and I have light. But my light looks like his heart just broke.
I grip his eyes with mine like I grip the Stymphalian Bird’s beak, simply refusing to let go. The heavy numbness on my right side spreads across my chest to my left shoulder. The blades in my left arm burn like the fires of the Underworld, and my upper abdomen is on fire. Not sobbing in agony defies human nature. But Griffin’s eyes hold mine back, grounding me and enthralling me like every day since the moment we met.
“You are Catalia Fisa.” In his words, I read a fuller meaning. He believes in me. He believes I can do anything I set my mind to.
I breathe again. Once. Twice. Selena is just beyond the gate. Our bodies will hold out because I’ll give them no other choice. Survival is a mind-set. I will live. Griffin will live.
The spark I’d been searching for ignites in my head. The bird’s consciousness merges with mine, and a concentrated point of magic bursts behind my eyes, blinding, then uncomfortable, then simply there.
“Retreat!” The command is louder in my mind than in my mouth. We don’t know how to kill the Stymphalian Bird. A hole straight through it doesn’t even make it bleed. The best I can do is force it to leave, eliminating our final opponent in the arena.
The creature stops thrashing. I draw more power like a breath, pulling it from my own body. Currents of magic move like lightning under my skin and thunder through my veins. My hair lifts on a strong wind, and the ground beneath my feet shakes as a thunderbolt cracks overhead. Flashes and rumbles follow even though it’s not raining anymore. This is another storm.
People scream, and I smile. There’s blood in my mouth. It coats my teeth. It tastes like victory.
I own the bird now, for as long as I choose. “Retreat.”
Metallic feathers slide from my arm, pulling on muscle and grating through bone. I release the beak with a gasp. Griffin moans at the same time. Not for his own wounds. It’s my pain that’s too much to bear. My storm crashes to the pit floor with enough force to shake the venue. I stagger, falling into Jocasta. She catches me under my arms, but I hardly feel her. The venom from the bird’s bite is dulling everything and turning my limbs to rocks.
“Go to Kato,” I say. “Don’t leave him alone.”
Jocasta steadies me and then goes, limping and slowed by her own injuries.
Using their swords, Flynn and Carver push the bird off Griffin’s blade. The creature lands in the sand and then rights itself, bringing its lethal wings docilely against its sides. The hole in its body closes over. Metallic feathers regenerate. It cocks its head and looks to me for direction because my will is its entire world.
I stare back, suddenly seeing a kindred spirit in this unbreakable creature. It didn’t choose to be here. It was caught and used. I can intimately relate.
“Go,” I command. “Go to the Ice Plains and there, be free.”
