For a second the only sound is Minoak’s groan.
Then Ziva starts screaming and the shepherds follow suit. They run in a hundred different directions while I watch numbly, detached from my body, as my eagle soars to the edge of the thicket and lands on the shoulder of a figure dressed in Shoniin gray. Orbai places the bloody scrap in their outstretched hand, and they wave it overhead like a flag.
I can’t breathe. I can do nothing but stare at my best friend, perched on the shoulder of one ofthem.I didn’t expect to see her again until we killed Kartok and severed the Loridium bond. But of course he would send Orbai to taunt me.
To weaken me.
“Enebish!” Serik’s so red in the face, he’s probably shouted my name at least ten times. “Why in the skies is Orbai with them? Attacking us?Do something!”
I blow out a breath and glance up at the wispy shadows lurking beneath the canopy. Such little darkness remains. The few lingering threads are desperate to avoid the rising daylight, but I make a frantic grab for them. If the scout makes it back to Kartok and Temujin, the combined Zemyan and Shoniin armies will return to slaughter us.
It feels like I’m scraping the bottom of my well of power, but I manage to catch hold and slam the tendrils to the ground.
For a second nothing happens. The shock hits me like a punch to the stomach. I’ve gone too far—pushed my power too hard for too long. This is how it feels to be magic-barren. Then something tightens deep within me and the night billows outward, rolling over the sandy waterway between the marshlands and dunes. Swallowing the rosy-pink morning—and the scout.
“We have to stop them!” I take off running and trip immediately. My body is weak and woozy. The cypress roots entangle my bad leg.
Serik appears at my right, breathing heavily. At least a dozen other shepherds flank my left. Lalyne and Azamat and Iree and Bultum. All united for the first time since leaving the grazing lands.
“Throw your starfire at them!” Azamat shouts.
The scout’s still in range, stumbling through the last of the flute reeds. If they reach the sand dunes, they’ll run for leagues, unhindered by the marshland’s rocks and trees. We’ll never catch them. Not even with the darkness.
“Finish them!” Iree cries.
“Quickly!” Bultum agrees.
I choke on an agonized wail. They’re right. Ishouldbring the stars down on the scout. But Ican’tbecause Orbai flies directly over their head, trailing the scout how she used to trail me.
“What are you waiting for?” Lalyne demands.
They don’t know what Orbai means to me. They won’t understand. “We’re still in the marshlands.” I grasp for an excuse. “Do you think King Ihsan will join our cause if I lay fire to his kingdom?”
“Enebish.” Serik whirls around, his face drained of color, his expression grief-stricken. “Orbai would understand—”
“No!” I sob. I can’t kill my bird. Ican’t.
And Kartok knows it.
Help me.I fall to my knees, begging the Lady of the Sky to intervene.
“I’ll do it.” Ziva emerges from the back of the group, her hand already thrust heavenward.
A bout of nausea grips me. “You can’t even fill your palms with darkness! There’s no way you can—”
Ziva smashes her fist into the sand with an earsplitting scream. Above us, a blinding crimson star streaks across the golden morning, speeding toward the scout.
And Orbai.
My heart thrashes. The world blurs, as if trapped behind a pane of ice. I don’t consciously choose to summon another star, but suddenly it’s there, scorching my hand, and I throw it.
Not at the scout, but at Ziva’s volatile strike.
“What are you doing?” The shepherds cry and cover their heads as the bolts of starfire collide.
The explosion is more violent than anything I’ve ever experienced. Even more devastating than when I laid fire to the Sky Palace. The sky bursts with light, a hundred times brighter than the sun. White fire and popping sparks shred through the blanket of blackness. A second later a boom shakes the earth, bringing everyone else to their knees. I half expect the ground to fall away completely. It feels like the world is splitting in two. Devouring itself.
As torrents of ash fall, the ground settles with a groan and the brightness fades. My vision returns just in time to watch the Shoniin scout reach the crest of the dune. They turn, wave their bloody memento from King Minoak, and vanish into the desert, Orbai screeching behind them.
