Horses pounded past me, throwing a rush of wind across my face. Glancing back, I saw one of the soldiers riding it raise a javelin, his eyes locked on Aethra as she ran back to my side.
No! I closed the distance between us with three strides before throwing myself at her, hoping to shield her with my body. The javelin slammed into the back of my right shoulder, pitching us both forward. Aethra yelped in pain as she struck her back, and my full weight landed atop her bruised torso.
A faint prick of discomfort resonated in my back, but the pounding adrenaline washed the rest away. Pulling myself off her, I reached back and yanked the javelin from my shoulder, wincing as another throb of pain radiated from the wound. Fresh blood spilled from my back—this was going to hurt like hell later.
Raising my head, I saw Phaedrus standing before us, red vines loosely spinning around him, but Eleos was sprawled across the ground.
Had he been hit?
The chariot drawn by white horses—the one Eleos’ spear was lodged in—had finally righted itself. Calm despite the encroaching danger, Phaedrus raised an arm, and his vines followed, shooting across the field like a hail of arrows.
This time, they didn’t break. Rose vines wrapped around every spoke and wheel and tangled the horses’ legs in their grip. He yanked his hand back, and the carriage spun to a stop, tipping over from the sudden loss of balance.
Both chariots had been damaged, but their soldiers still lived—a pair to either side of us. Only a few paces separated me from the other men. Grabbing Aethra, I hauled her to her feet and readied my spear for the javelins that would surely be seeking our backs.
Horses screamed behind me. Spinning, I saw two chariots slam into each other, knocking the wheel-less carriage over. Seraphim rode the one Aethra had tipped earlier. Yanking the reins, she guided her steeds to our side and extended her hand.
Javelins whistled past her, one striking her arm, while the other slammed into one of her horses. The steed veered off course, carrying her away from us.
Straight into the path of the fallen carriage. Leaning into the opportunity, Seraphim ordered her horses to charge straight for the men who’d fallen from their seats.
Throwing herself from the carriage, Seraphim hit the ground and rolled as the two chariots collided. The horses tangled with one another, one falling on its side while wood splinters flew from the air.
The javelin stuck in Seraphim’s arm shattered during her roll. She ripped the broken splinter from her arm and threw it aside.
Leave it to her to make such feats look easy.
Aethra slipped away from me and rushed to Eleos’ side. Blood soaked his right arm, and he hadn’t moved.
“Eleos!” She called, grabbing his shoulders.
Relief washed over me when he stirred, and his thoughts whispered in my head. “I’d say I’m fine, but that would be a lie.”
Aethra bared her teeth. Lifting her arm, she pointed it at the wall behind her. The stone shattered, tearing a massive hole several paces deep—a tunnel that led to a dead end.
“You.” She helped Eleos up and shoved him toward Phaedrus. “Get him to safety.”
Phaedrus glanced behind him, offering her only a furrowed brow.
“Go! Trust me,” she shouted.
“Follow them!” I snapped at Percy. He lifted his head from his hands and unpeeled himself from the gates, rushing to Eleos’ other side to give him a hand.
Aethra didn’t follow them. She pivoted toward Seraphim, intent on throwing herself into danger again.
The redhead rose to her knees, eyes locked on one of the soldiers who’d fallen from her crash. He threw a javelin toward her head, and she deflected it with her scythe. Looking up, she saw Aethra, then noticed the tunnel the others headed toward.
“Go!” Aethra said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Nodding, Seraphim ran after the others, a heavy limp in her step. Spear clutched tightly in my hand, I reached Aethra and grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”
“The Oracle’s signal,” she panted, raising her hand, fingers curling into a fist.
I looked up, foolishly seeking my cousin in the crowd.
“There.” She dropped her hand. “Either it’s there, or it’s not.”
It. Remembering Cerys’ magic, I pushed Aethra ahead of me as we sprinted for the tunnel.
