Page 92 of Claws of Death

Myron’s shield wraps around me as my wings beat against the heat from the fires. One wrong move and I’ll be too close to the flames, and my feathers will catch fire. I’ll plunge from the sky and end up like Ephegos, scarred and wingless.

I push on, up and up, to where the clouds will give cover. Myron’s shield falls away a few feet above his head, and I can feel his panic when he can no longer protect me, so I flutter on. Zig-zagging between balls of fire coming after me. The Flames have noticed my shift, and they know I’m an easy target. An arrow zooms past my left wing, forcing me to pull it in. As a result, I tumble through the air like a nutshell in the water. My left claw isn’t anywhere near healed, even when I pushed my powers to take care of the wound I received earlier. It’s a small cut, but it keeps me from using my claws to balance out the spin, so I lean into it, diving down a few feet before I manage to whip out myleft wing.

Beating the air hard, I climb again, up, up toward the clouds. Just a few more feet and I’ll find cover. I don’t dare try to summon my water magic while I’m still an easy target; the Flames will shoot me down so fast I can’t even think my mate’s name.

A fireball lights the sky bright orange as it soars past me. My heart is fluttering so fast I no longer feel individual beats. If I push any harder, it might simply stop.

I push anyway.

Two more feet. One.

Cool mist coats my feathers as I dive into the clouds, washing away the panic, and cool air fills my lungs, easing the iron grasp the fear has on my chest.

With a few strong beats of my wings, I’m up high enough to see the stars while the clouds form a carpet of comfort beneath me. I could lie down in the moonlit cotton and forget the world, but there are people down below who need my help. People who I’d die for.

My bird mind isn’t half as vast as my human one, but it holds enough capacity to remember Myron’s face. To remember all of their faces. The scent of their blood on the battlefield.

Come on,I call my magic to my aid.I need you.

Like a million liquid diamonds, the clouds respond with a song. If only I could grasp them all at once and send them down in a splash. The fire would be quenched, and the Flames would lose one advantage.

Circling, I call the water to me.

The response is the same song, but it’s mocking me, that I’m too weak to hold it all at once.

I’m small, not weak,I tell it, tugging on it again.

You chose Shaelak’s power over mine.It’s not the water but Vala’s voice, soft but firm.

Please, no. I can’t handle a quarrel between deities right now. I need to savemy family.

I didn’t choose,I think with exasperation.I need you both.I can’t save them without Shaelak’s power, and I can’t save them without yours.

He is Chaos, I’m Order. We’re two halves of one whole,Vala says so softly I barely hear her.I granted you power to break my curse, and he granted you power as a reward for saving his creation. We can take it away.

Please-no-please-no-please-no.

Her words register.Chaos and Order? Like the Guardians?

Like the children of Hel. Of Eroth. Of Zotarr. Whatever you want to call him.

My vision blurs as I realize two things: Vala and Shaelak are the Guardians. And we’ve been praying to the same gods all this time.

Be wise, my child,Vala says, her tone gentle, but there is darkness in it as she seems to speak right by my ear.Order and Chaos have always been fighting for balance. If you use my power at the same time as his, I don’t knowwhat it will take for that balance to be restored.

I want to beg her to help me anyway, but she didn’t say she wouldn’t allow me to use her power. All she did was warn me of the consequences.

The clouds beneath light up in all colors of a fire, and I know I’m running out of time. Screamsand curses sound from below alongside the clanking of steel against steel. If I hesitate another moment, everything might have been in vain.

Whatever it is, I’ll pay the price.

I don’t wait for the Sister Guardian’s response before I pull on my water magic so hard my little bird body threatens to tear wide open. I might not be strong enough to call all the water to me at once, but I’m strong enough to push it away.

With a mighty shove, I send the liquid diamonds careening to the ground, focusing on letting them gravitate toward each other until they form droplets, then drops, and splashes at last. The clouds clear, freeing my view of the ground where bodies lie scattered and flares of fire define the landscape. It’s a scene from my nightmares that I will never stop seeing, not even if my plan works and I manage to put out the flames.

Myron

The fuckingmiracle comes in the shape of splattering rain.

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