Page 51 of A Shard of Ice

“I’m sure I can smell that female. Human, I think.” He sniffs some more.

Noooo!

Kakara, help me. If he catches me, I am surely dead. He’ll drink me dry.

“We need to leave. You heard Aithan; the Primus wants us mounted.”

“Yes, but—”

“No, buts. Get your ass over here. We need to go before the shadowfae regroup. Before one of the other factions, arrive. We would not be as successful against the beastfae or the shifters.”

A horse whinnies. Hooves thud and splash against the ground. Very carefully, I sneak a peek over the rock. Most of the fae are mounted and moving off. There are three left with Damon, who is tied up with his hands behind his back.

They lift him into a saddle. He glances back for a second, his eyes catching mine. He gives the smallest shake of the head, telling me not to do anything stupid.

I realize that I am gripping my dagger so tightly that my fingers ache. After tying Damon to the saddle horn, the rest of the fae mount up, and they ride away.

I stay right there for what feels like an age. So long that my butt starts to go numb. Aside from the odd nicker from a horse and the rustle of wind through the mostly leafless trees, there’s nothing.

I am alone.

Damon is gone.

What am I going to do?

I force myself to stand. Sitting here is not going to help me. It’s not going to get me anywhere. I need to move. To figure out a plan.

What plan?

I carefully look over the rock. There are bodies littered everywhere. Both fae and horses. There are several beasts milling about, all riderless. They must be the horses of fallen shadowfae.

I step out from behind the rocks on shaking legs. That’s when I see him. It’s Cyrano. He’s on his back, his sightless eyes staringup to the heavens. His throat has been slit. I make a sobbing noise, which I stifle with my hand.

I didn’t like Cyrano much. He was a coward and not to be trusted, but he didn’t deserve to die. Not like this.

I wipe my eyes as the tears fall. I’m crying for Cyrano, for myself, but mostly for Damon. What are they going to do with him? Where are they taking him? The only thing I can think to do is to follow. Maybe I can…find a way to help him. To rescue him. It sounds laughable and yet I have to try. I look around. There is nothing for me out here anymore.

I start to walk toward the nearest horse, but it startles and runs away.

Jessop’s tit!

There is another horse near the edge of the clearing. I slowly walk toward it, keeping my eyes low. I don’t walk directly at the beast, either. I carefully make my way closer. Slowly…slowly…inch by inch.

The horse looks up, tensing. I work at keeping my breathing even and my eyes averted. I stand still for a moment, praying it doesn’t get scared off.

I’m looking at it from the corner of my eye. It snorts, turns, and hightails it out of there. I watch with a sinking heart as it gallops away.

That leaves one last horse. This is it, my last chance to avoid having to walk. I need to get this right. I won’t get very far on foot. I take one step toward the animal when someone grabs me from behind. They clamp their hand over my mouth as I start to scream.

I kick and flail.

A fae dressed in leather walks toward me. He is in high boots with thick leather armor over his tunic. A sword is belted around his waist. He lowers the hood of his oilskin coat and smiles. His canines are sharp.

My breathing stutters.

A bloodfae. No! I am doomed.

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