Page 83 of Steel Heart Iron Claws

It strikes Tòrr’s left haunch—but glances off. A spark flashes like when iron is struck.

“Stand together, facing opposite directions!” I hiss as I guide Myst to fall back next to Tòrr.

We face west. Tòrr takes the east.

The hair on the back of my neck raises. My heartbeat quickens. Though the woods are almost eerily silent, my ears pick up on tiny falling pebbles and the occasional squeak of leather gloves alerts me to our company.

An arrow shoots within an inch of my left ear.

“Fuck!” I curse.

Another arrow flies at my head from the north, but this one I see coming and duck.

Snapping into military mode, I aim my bow at the thick mist, waiting for a flicker of movement to give me a target.

As I wait, sweating, I pick up on the sounds of soldiers quietly drawing swords.

Infantry.Archers. But that doesn’t explain the mist unless…

I groan as I mutter aloud, “They have a godkissed soldier with them.”

Tòrr steps forward, putting himself in front of Myst and me like a shield.

In the next second, soldiers rush out from all sides. Tòrr squares himself against them, lowering his massive head, as I let loose an arrow.

It brings down the closest soldier, but the one behind him comes at me with a horizontal sword strike. I deflect it with a sharp kick that sends him flying backward into another soldier.

I nock a fresh arrow, take down another man.

Opposite us, Tòrr kicks a pair of swordsmen in the chest, sending them crashing into one another.

Archers positioned somewhere high release a volley of arrows. I guide Myst backward with my heels, anticipating the arrows’ trajectories, and we take shelter behind Tòrr’s flank just in time.

The arrows plink off his side as though hurtling against a castle wall.

I lean over to pat him. “Good boy. Good murder horse.”

More soldiers close in, and Myst rears up to smack one in the jaw, sending him reeling backward. When she touches down again, I plant a kick into a soldier’s chest, then deliver a sharp elbow strike to the top of his helmet.

A group of three soldiers rushes Tòrr at once, and I quickly assess their position until they line up right, then signal to Myst. She swings her rear end into the closest one so they crash into one another. The last one manages to sidestep, but Tòrr slams his head into the man’s chest, knocking him on top of the pile.

Myst and I fall back into position opposite Tòrr as we face the next wave of soldiers.

“Not bad for some equines.” My smug smile evaporates when a vibration travels up my legs. The wind shifts, and among the expected sweat and leather scents, there’s something metallic and musty. Animal-like.

“Oh, fuck.”

A goldenclaw wearing battle armor gallops through the mist with a roar that sends warm spittle flying onto my face.

Wipe my face or save my life?Tough choice.

I steer Myst to the right as the goldenclaw swipes his giant paw at us. We dodge his strike, but in the jostling, my remaining arrows fall out of my quiver.

The bear rider taps a bullhook on the creature’s rear haunch, and the bear stomps back around to face me.

I draw my hunting knife, centering my focus.

Suddenly, Tòrr rams the bear from the side. Ferra’s glamour may mask his horn, but it’s stillthere. As the invisible horn grates against the goldenclaw’s metallic fur, sparks fly.

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