Beneath it quivers a white foal. At least, I think it’s white, though its coat is covered in harpy blood and tucked tight to its body are …
“Seven realms,” I mutter. “Delphia, you were right.”
“What is it?” she asks, her voice shakier than I’ve ever heard.
“Come and see.”
The girls don’t move. I turn to them and try to smile. They both stare at me with the same etched look of fear.
I return to them and hold out my hands. “Come on. You’ll want to see this. I promise it’s okay.” I look from Eleanor to Delphia. “You can trust me. It’s not going to hurt you.”
The princesses look at each other, silent words passing between them. Then they each take one of my hands. I walk them over to the other side of the nest.
The young Pegasus blinks up at them and gives a little whinny.
“You were right, Delphia,” I whisper. “The Pegasuses are here. We’re going to find them, okay?”
Delphia sinks to her knees. Her body shakes and tears rush down her face. She holds her hands out, and the foal sniffs her fingers before leaning into her touch.
“They’re real,” she cries. “I knew they were real!”
Eleanor falls to her knees beside her and runs her hands overthe foal’s body. Then she blinks up at me. “We’ll save her, won’t we, Ezryn?”
“Of course we will.”
Two hours and a complicated pulley system using my grappling hook and rope later, we’re back on the ground. All four of us.
The girls chatter excitedly about names for the foal before deciding on Drusilla, the name of Delphia’s grandmother. The little beast trots happily beside them. Besides a few talon marks, the foal is unharmed.
It is completely unafraid of them, I think. This is no wild animal. It has been raised with the fae.We’re going to find the Huntresses. I’ll bring them back to Summer with Delphia and Eleanor. We’re going to survive this.
Though the foal has eased some of the pain and fear, I can still sense it from the girls. A wariness they’d never had before.
Good. It’s what’s needed to survive. If I have to be a killer to keep them safe, I will be. Even if they hate me for it.
CHAPTER 50
Dayton
Instinct takes over and I grab Rosie’s golden thorn knife from my back pocket and slice open the rope trap. I land on both feet, and easily catch Rosie, who falls into my arms.
“Stay down, love,” I say and hurl us both to the ground just as the trident careens over our heads and embeds into the tree.
I grab Rosie beneath her arms and haul her to her feet. Branches break behind us. I chance a glance back at our hunter, a tall figure with a dark hood shadowing his face. Male, broad-shouldered, and radiating power.
“I can use my thorns,” Rosalina hisses.
“No,” I say. “Don’t reveal who you are yet. I can handle one man.”
The shadowy figure rips the trident from the tree with acrack. The weapon has a long reach, but once I get past his defenses, a quick strike to his chest should take him down. I zig-zag toward him, feinting left as he drives the trident in my direction, then duck, planning to come up right in front of him.
The handle of the weapon smacks me in the side of the face, and I go down hard in the foliage.
Never stay down. Stay down and your enemies will seize the advantage, turning the tide against you in an instant.Old lessons play in my mind. The figure pulls the trident back, poised to strike. I roll to the side, trident spraying up dirt and leaves beside my head.
I somersault, leaping up at his back. Dagger in hand, I move to strike.
The bastard has already turned, trident’s prongs slicing three red lines across my chest. While I’m still reeling in shock, he gives a dissatisfied grunt and kicks me in the stomach.
