A burst of light flashes to my left. Isaac shoots flaming bolts from his crossbow, the one my eye follows piercing into the back of a beast stalking one of the children.
“Let’s finish this,” I mutter, charging into the firelit chaos.
I don’t stop to think. I race hard into the village square, my heart pounding, my pulse a war drum in my ears.
Dante is right behind me, sword in hand. “The fire is out of hand. We need to get the villagers clear!”
He’s right. They’re fighting bravely, but they’re scattered, uncoordinated. And the buildings around us are falling apart from the flames. If we don’t intervene, they’ll be ripped apart or consumed by the fire before the night is through.
A carnoraxis wheels toward me, its sunken, black eyes gleaming. I meet its charge, twisting my body at the last second to avoid its swipe before I bury my sword deep into its ribs. A piercing shriek. A spray of blood. And then I’m turning, searching for the next enemy.
A scream pierces through the chaos. High-pitched. Desperate.
I spin toward the sound, checking to see if it’s merely another of Lorne’s illusions. My pulse spikes as my gaze snaps to a house already half-consumed by fire. Smoke billows from the windows, black against the night sky, but through the shifting haze, I see him. A boy, no older than eleven, clutching the ledge of an upstairs window, his face streaked with soot, his mouth open in a wordless cry for help.
He’s trapped.
Dante sees him too. “Shit,” he mutters, already moving, but the flames are spreading fast, licking at the timber walls, devouring the lower floor. There’s no way up from the inside.
My eyes flick to the trellis climbing the side of the house, its ivy-wrapped latticework trembling in the heat. It won’t hold forever, but it doesn’t have to.
I sprint forward, sheathing my sword in one fluid motion before grasping the trellis and hauling myself up. The wood groans beneath myweight, but I ignore it, my muscles burning as I climb. The heat singes my skin, smoke stinging my eyes, but I grit my teeth and keep moving.
The boy spots me, his wide eyes shimmering with terror. “Please,” he chokes out. “I-I can’t—”
“You can,” I say firmly. “I need you to climb onto the ledge. Can you do that?”
He nods frantically, his small hands scrambling for purchase as he inches forward. I’m nearly there. Just a little higher—
A guttural snarl splits the night.
I twist just as a carnoraxis bursts into view below, its sunken eyes gleaming, its elongated limbs moving with unnatural speed. It’s seen me. It knows I’m trapped.
And it’s coming.
My fingers curl around the hilt of my dagger, heart hammering. No time to hesitate. I whip the blade through the air, sending it spinning straight for the beast’s throat. The dagger sinks deep, its jeweled hilt catching the firelight for a split second before blood sprays from the creature’s neck. It staggers back with a strangled hiss, its claws swiping at the wound as dark ichor spills down its chest.
It won’t die from that. Not right away. But I’ve bought myself seconds.
“Now!” I bark at the boy.
He whimpers but obeys, scrambling onto the ledge just as I reach him. The trellis wobbles violently, the heat from the flames nearly unbearable now. I grab his arm and pull him against me, bracing for the descent.
And then the trellis gives way.
We drop. The world tilts—wind whipping past my face—before I twist midair, forcing us sideways. We hit the ground hard, my back slamming against the dirt, my arms tight around the boy to shield him.
I barely get a breath in before I hear the ragged breathing.
The carnoraxis is still alive. And it’s furious.
I shove the boy toward Dante, who’s already rushing forward. “Take him!”
Dante catches him without question, but his gaze locks on mine, tight with concern. My senses tell me he’s about to charge in to help me, but another beast appears at his back. Dante’s falchion slices toward the aggressor.
I don’t let myself linger because the carnoraxis I’ve thrown my dagger at lurches, dark blood still leaking from its throat. Its eyes are locked on me, hungry and wild. I rise to meet it, drawing my sword in one smooth motion, my muscles thrumming with adrenaline.
It lunges. I sidestep. Its claws rake empty air where my ribs had been a breath ago. I pivot, blade flashing, and drive my sword deep into its chest. The beast lets out a keening wail, its talons twitching as the last of its strength ebbs away. Blood bubbles at its grey lips before it finally crumples, its weight crashing into the dirt.
