The word surfaces from my mother’s bedtime stories. The stories terrified me, but the reality is so much worse.
There are at least a dozen of them, fanning out on both sides of us as they run for us. They move with a speed that makes my stomach drop. Jack is giving me everything he has, his breathing coming in great bursts. But these things are faster.
“This way!” Sebastian shouts.
We veer away from them.
“Keep riding!” he yells, moving ahead of me.
I don’t have to urge Jack on; he picks up the pace, following Nox.
I glance back and wish I hadn’t. The hy-weres don’t seem to notice the mud at all. Their wide, splayed paws spread their weight across the soft ground, and they glide over it as though it were packed stone.
They’re gaining. I can hear them behind us…gaining on us.
They yip at each other. I go cold when I realize that they must be communicating.
I glance left. Three of them have broken from the main pack and are running a wide arc, curving ahead to cut us off. On the right, more are doing the same. They’re not just chasing us. They’re herding us.
Hunting us.
Goddess no!
“We have to go faster!” I yell.
“Give it everything,” Sebastian tells me, his eyes blazing.
I nod.
The problem is that Jack is flagging. His sides are heaving, foam flecking his mouth. He has a heart bigger than most, but heart alone won’t save us from what’s coming.
“We can’t outrun them,” I shout.
“Pull up!” Sebastian calls, turning back to me. “We need to fight,” he adds as he slowly pulls Nox to a halt, and I do the same with Jack. He slides in the mud as he drops from a gallop to a lope to a walk. I turn him to face the pack.
My hands are shaking. I reach down inside myself, past the exhaustion, past the fear, and find the well of magic that sits at the bottom of my chest. It’s not as full as I’d like. Too many days of running. Thank Kakara, it’s there.
I call fire to my hands. The warmth spreads through my fingers, and I hold it ready.
Sebastian draws his sword. “There are thirteen of them.”
“That’s too many.”
“I know.” He looks my way. “If I give you the warning, I want you to put Jack in a gallop and ride away.”
I frown. “You want me to leave you?” I shake my head. “No.”
“Please, Isla. I need you to listen to me for once.”
The hy-weres slow as they close in, dropping from a run to a loping walk. They spread out, encircling us with the unhurried patience of predators who know their quarry has nowhere left to go. Their ember-bright eyes fix on us.
“I won’t. We fight together.”
“Dammit, Isla,” he growls, his eyes on the hy-weres.
Several lower their heads. They growl and yip.
“Would you leave me here?” I ask him.
