The cage is now fully formed and Skirra is trapped inside it, thrashing and gnashing at the bars, trying to get out.
I’m caught for a moment between the need to free him and the danger to my brother, but there’s no way I can bend those metal bars, not without burning out my deep light.
I have no choice but to leave Skirra there for now, but I make a silent vow that I’ll come back to him.
Deron disappears around the cabin’s corner and although I’m only five paces behind him, I fear he’ll reach the cabin door before I can stop him.
He’s completely out of Thoren’s range. My brother will now have to choose whether to stay inside the turret or to move into a less confined space where he can more easily fight off an attack.
When I catch sight of three more arrows shooting from the turret toward the Blacksmiths fighting our father, it tells me Thoren has chosen to stay put. But not without more danger.
One of the Blacksmiths breaks off from that fight, his weapon transforming into a spear as he takes a step back, his focus on the turret.
Before he can let the spear fly, Kori launches himself at the Blacksmith, his jaws closing around the man’s arm and dragging him down to the ground.
Then I’m around the corner and I can’t see them anymore.
I’m afraid for my father.
Fearful for Thoren.
Worried about the wolves.
Also about Asha, who, for all I know, could have woken up by now.
I grit my teeth, forcing my feet to fly faster and my arms to pump harder while my hunting knives remain gripped in my hands.
As I race after Deron into the cabin, I tell myself these Blacksmiths are nothing more than monsters in this forest.
They can bleed and they can die.
Wewilltake them down.
Chapter 15
Irace inside the cabin, the warmer air filling my chest—a comfort that does nothing to reduce my fear.
Deron is still five paces ahead of me.
Sprinting forward, I rip off my coat and drop it to the floor, needing the better agility I possess without it.
Now that we’re inside, the turret within which Thoren is concealed is on the near right-hand side. But to access it, Deron will have to run all the way to the back of the space, up the main stairs, and back along the right-hand loft to reach the turret’s ladder.
Up ahead, now near the hearth, Deron has skidded to a halt. He’s half-turned in the direction of the turrets, but the angle of his head tells me he’s focused on the shadowed space beneath the stairs at the back of the room.
I can only just make out the outline of the sled and Asha’s still form lying on it. Thoren must have pulled her all the way back there in an attempt to hide her under the stairs.
She’s all wrapped up and, to my view, it would be hard to distinguish her from an innocuous pile of blankets, but Deron’s fixation on her for a long second tells me he must have seen her.
I expect him to run in that direction. To either retrieve her or to race up the stairs to reach Thoren.
I’ll barely have time to stop him, pushing myself to move faster, trying to make the most of his hesitation.
He gives a snarl and then, to my surprise, he flicks his shield down onto the floor, a connecting metal thread running between the shield and his hand.
He steps onto the shield and the metal transforms in a rush, rising upward from the floor like a tree branch. It supports his weight but becomes thinner and thinner as he reaches the top, where he will no doubt launch himself off it, over the railing, and onto the loft.
The base of the branch is also thinning, as if he intends to pull it back up to him with a snap.
