It’s not brick or stone, it’s fae.
I’m surrounded, packed in shoulder to shoulder, back to chest, in a unit of them.
Againstthat.
The wave that climbs higher than the treetops.
The wave that arches overhead and roars that deafening sound.
I force the satchel strap over my head—and the second I do, Samick’s hand comes pressing down on me, forcing my head down.
This boulder of fae, strong and sturdy, ducks together. In sync, they all crouch down.
And it strikes.
I don’t even hear my own scream.
I do scream.
My throat is strangled.
It vibrates in my neck, wracks my whole body.
Doubled over, Samick curves over me like a fucking shield, brick bodies all around me, and still, I can’t stop screaming—
Until the breath is knocked out of me like a violent blow to the back, and I hit the forest floor, hard.
Bodies collide.
Limbs strike me like falling marble statues.
Water crashes down on me.
Fae bodies take the brunt of it, but those are whacked and knocked into me like brick walls.
Water floods the forest floor, forces its way into my mouth, into mylungs.
I’m flailing.
Flailing for what, I don’t know.
I don’t feel him anymore.
Samick was my shield, but now on my back, all I feel are waves blasting over me.
I’m being washed away.
I writhe in it, water as deep as a pool.
Shouts ricochet through the meadow—
No, not the meadow.
The forest.
I’m surrounded by trees now, torn away from the boulder, the camp, the others.
I battle the waters in a desperate swim—but I’m being swept away, and I’m knocking into trees and rocks and shrubs.
