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“Cedric!” she shouted, but the word was swallowed by the surrounding noise. Her fingers curled, the dregs of her wild magic still alight in her veins, frenzied and furious . . . but very nearly spent. Somewhere deep in her chest, her shadows stirred—restless, frantic, like they were begging to join the fray.

She reached for the earth again, and roots erupted in a thick snarl between Cedric and the first wave of beasts, forming a rough lattice meant to catch legs, to bind, to slow⁠—

The monsters tore through them with ease, their claws shredding bark and cutting through fiber as if they were made of paper.

And then they were on him.

32

STRONGER TOGETHER

ELYRIA

Cedric swept Ashrender up, then plunged it down, the scent of seared flesh wafting through the air as the burning blade sliced clean through the first beast. He drove the sword into the shoulder of the next one, cleaving its arm from its body, but the creature didn’t fall. Blood spraying, it reared up with snapping jaws, its teeth inches from Cedric’s throat.

And then it wasn’t quite as close anymore, but only because another beast had slammed into Cedric’s side, throwing him off-balance. He went down to one knee, just as a third monster—massive, with red eyes that glowed like kindled coals—launched itself at his back.

“No!” Elyria screamed, and the word wasn’t a sound so much as a command. She threw both hands out, pouring what little power she had left across the clearing. The magic masking her wings faltered, and they burst free over her back as she fell forward, her knees hitting the dirt.

“Ellie, don’t!” Kit’s cry was lost in Elyria’s ears as vines erupted from the ground, lashing at the beasts attacking her solimaeus.

But her magic was too slow.

She was too weak.

Cedric was back on his feet, spinning to face the attacking beast, but its claws were already outstretched, already reaching, already set to slice through shirt and flesh and muscle and bone.

A shape dropped out of the sky, landing behind Cedric with such force that it sent the attacking creature sprawling mid-leap. Sid let out a tremorous growl as she turned in the flattened grass, humongous once again, shadows rolling off every inch of her—a dark mist.

The beasts froze. Even the cultists seemed to slow their continued approach for a moment, cries of “Volacarnii!” coming from those who were closest.

Cedric took advantage of the momentary lapse, immediately swinging Ashrender up to carve a second arm from the other monster he had been grappling with. “You really love making an entrance, don’t you?” he called, the words coming out as something between a grunt and a breathless laugh.

Sid launched herself at the monster she had waylaid, her teeth clamping around its throat. With a single twist of her head and a snap that Elyria felt in her bones, the majestic shadowcat broke the beast’s neck.

Cedric’s chest heaved as he stood and separated the first creature’s head from its shoulders with a final sweep of his sword. “I appreciate the assist,” he said, dipping his chin at Sid.

The shadowcat sniffed the air, as though somehow offended by the implication that her actions should be reduced to something like assistance, then turned and threw herself at the remaining beasts.

The vise gripping Elyria’s heart relaxed slightly, and with effort, she got back to her feet. Breath coming in shaky bursts, she reached behind her back and ran a trembling finger along the edge of one wing.

Still there.

They were still there.

A bang sounded from the schoolhouse behind her, and Elyria could only hope that it was the sound of a back door being flung open, of children being ushered toward safety.

Good, she thought. Go.

Go, go, go.

They came.

The cultists had finally reached them, all of them packed together in a tight phalanx, their sanguinagi shields and weapons held aloft. Kit’s and Jocelyn’s efforts had slowed their approach, but they hadn’t taken any of them out, and the three fae now found themselves facing a full dozen blood mages.

“Are you all right?” Kit hissed, coming up next to Elyria, voice tight. “Can you still fight?” Water spun around her wrists, crystallizing into icy plates along her forearms.

Elyria grabbed Cedric’s dagger from her belt, flipping it in her palm. “Do I have a choice?”