The same scene is playing out all around us. The gate has collapsed at the defense compound. A battalion of scarlet-clad Karensan soldiers march through the inferno. Our dead are littered everywhere.
A stillness washes over me. My gaze settles helplessly on the monsters that twitch toward me now. I wonder if this is what Corian had felt when he realized it was too late. I wonder how bad the pain will be when a Ghost’s fangs break my skin, when it tears my flesh until its poisons flood my own veins.
It occurs to me that I will never see my mother again. Strange; my next thought is that I wish I’d stopped to have tea with her.
The Ghosts stalk closer. I brace myself, ready to fight to the end. My vision blurs.
That’s when I realize Red is no longer where I saw him last. He has vanished. I blink in the haze of night, searching for his silhouette. Maybe he’s taken the opportunity to leave me behind and make his escape, test his luck elsewhere. It would be smart of him, something I might have done in his position. Or maybe he’s even fooled us all and decided to surrender to the Federation, take his chances by begging forgiveness from his Premier. Maybe a Ghost had grabbed him—
A blast of wind cuts off my thoughts.
An impact shakes the ground so hard that I’m thrown to my knees. The shudder of it rattles my teeth.An earthquake, goes my first thought, like one I’d felt back in Basea that had rocked our entire house, leaving us to run out the door in terror. The world beneath me cracks and caves in, as if from a mighty force.
Something powerful lands behind me.
I flinch, dagger clutched so tightly in my fist that my fingers feel like they might break, ready to stab the creature about to attack me.
But when I glance behind me, I don’t see rotting, ashen limbs—instead, I see the outline of a mighty figure in the night, black steel extending from either side of his back.
It’s Red.
Except he is almost unrecognizable.
He crouches right behind me, close enough that his shoulder brushes mine. I have no idea how he reached me this quickly. His once-dark eyes now glow such a bright silver white that I can see neither pupil nor iris. Just light and fury. A low, inhuman growl rumbles in the back of his throat, and his teeth are bared, flashing a ferocious white.
And from his back… arch a pair of enormous black wings formed from blades of steel. They are the most massive things I’ve ever seen,easily forty feet wide, spread to form a protective shield on either side of us.
In ancient stories we salvaged from the Early Ones, there are mentions of figures called angels. They were mythical, winged humans, an order of armored supernatural beings that served some almighty god. Creatures with the power to both protect mankind and rain down destruction. Above all, the Early Ones seemed to believe in them as guardians. Warriors. Beings of incredible beauty, meant to be loved and feared.
It is the first thought that comes to me now. An angel of death.
For an instant, I think Red is finally going to reveal his true Federation nature. He is going to kill me.
Then I realize his face is turned toward the Ghosts, and his expression is that of sheer hatred. He hovers over me in a protective stance. I am a Striker, trained never to freeze in combat like a deer lost in its own panic—but now I do, unsure what I’m witnessing. Who do I defend myself from? The Ghosts, or him? Is he about to help me? With a jolt of terror, I finally remember what he said the Federation called him.
Skyhunter.
Their experiment. Their weapon of war.
He attacks.
I’ve trained with the most elite warriors of Mara since I was twelve years old. I have seen Strikers and soldiers alike cut down their enemies without mercy. I am not naïve about what we are capable of doing to one another in war.
But never in my life have I seen an attack like what he unleashes.
He moves like a bolt of lightning. I can barely see him through the blur of motion. The force of him launching forward at the Ghosts is so strong that the wind knocks me to my knees. The black blades of his enormous wings slice clean through the nearest Ghost as if it weremade of soft clay, cutting the creature into bloody ribbons of flesh. He twists and shears through a second. A third. The Ghosts, riled up, scream and turn toward him, but they barely have time to blink before he cuts through them again. The tang of blood fills the air.
A Ghost towering a dozen feet high lunges at him. It doesn’t even have the chance to open its jaws before he pushes his wings down. He surges into the air and spins. His wings expand to its terrifying span and then cut straight into the Ghost.
Like it’s made of nothing. Like it’s a ghost of the air.
He decapitates it and shreds the body into pieces. Across the battlefield, he soars and dips, expanding his wings and then contracting them like a falcon on the hunt, diving through packs of Ghosts, destroying them, littering the field with their blood. Federation soldiers in his way are slaughtered like sheep. Their terrified screams reach my ears.
I find my feet again. As Red—the Skyhunter—continues his rampage, I leap up and pull out my blades. They flash through the air, cutting, slicing, finding new life as I follow his path and make my way through enemy lines. A strange fervor hums through me. Miraculously, I can see Red scattering the Federation’s forces, splitting their formations and sending them fleeing in confused clusters, right into the paths of our waiting soldiers and Strikers.
My body moves in a rhythm of its own, following the instincts that come with years of training. I fight my way back to where Adena and Jeran are pushing against a tide of Federation soldiers. The soldiers shrink away, knowing the reputation that comes with our sapphire coats, but Adena is in the throes of battle frenzy, her eyes alight with the fire of potential victory. Beside her, Jeran moves in sync with her every attack, his jaw clenched and movements lithe.
I can feel the tide of change in our moods. Before us, we cut through their troops like a scythe through wheat. The Ghosts are few now. Theones left are being called to retreat. A short distance from us, I see Red dive into a battalion of Federation soldiers. Blood follows in his wake.
