Sage had freed Serafin, but even I could tell that one of the vargr’s wings was injured by the way he favoured it. There was a chance he might not be able to fly.
Ciaran kept up a frantic pace in the sky, thinning the hoard of monsters rushing toward myanamand his vargr, but he could not get them all.
“Help them,” I beseeched Pyrope, whose ears flattened with disinclination. “Please!” I cried at her.
The vargr moved closer to me, clearly unprepared to leave me vulnerable, but I pushed her away, stumbling in my efforts to get her to move.
“Go! I need you to help them! I have nothing left.”
Pyrope wavered, her thick tail pressing tight against the backs of her legs as she turned her canine head toward Sage and Serafin. They were fighting the Fuath that got through Ciaran’s maelstrom, but they would not hold long under the assault. Both of them were injured.
Finally, Pyrope raised her head in determination and growled her intentions. I sighed in relief when she tucked her wings and burst forward, her back claws tearing up the ground as she charged into the fray.
She wasvicious. Feral and unhinged enough to make the Fuath pause in their attack. Some even fled from her, and it reminded me of the night before when she arrived to rescue me. Obviously I’d never seen myself in battle, but the way she tore into her enemies with her teeth and claws was the way I’d heard myself described before.
And thankfully, that ferocity was enough to buy Sage enough time to get Serafin to the edge of the cliff.
“Can he fly?” I asked Sage once he’d reached me and pulled me against him. I assumed he was comforting me, but I wasn’t so sure when the honey and cedarwood scent of his blood suddenly invaded my nostrils. He leaned into me harder than usual, and I automatically tightened my hold on him when he swayed unexpectedly. He hissed, and I felt him flinch when my hands found the ends of the arrows still in his back.
His clothing was soaked in blood.
“Sage!”
“He can fly,” he assured me, forcing out the words, although I was not convinced by the look of Serafin.
“Canyou?” I demanded.
Sage gave a scoff that sounded like feigned bravado. “It’s going to take more than a few arrows to keep me grounded, Summer. But you’ll need to ride Pyrope.”
“Of course!” I agreed, even though the idea of flying on a strange vargr by myself for the first time, without a saddle, while we were under attack, terrified me.
“Recall her—” Sage began, but he was interrupted by an explosion that felt like it burst my eardrums and made the earth shudder so hard it brought us both to our knees. Rock and dirtwere blasted high into the air, swathed in green flames that hissed and crackled like lightning.
“Whatthe fuckwas that?” I gasped in horror.
“Fuath magic. Some kind of explosive,” Sage grunted, gripping me under the arms to encourage me to try and get up again. I pushed back against his chest so we helped support one another only to be shaken by another blast that brought us both to our knees again. More debris flew into the air, this time close to where Ciaran was flying, and I realized the Fuath mage must be attempting to take away our aerial cover.
Ignoring every throbbing ache of protest in my body and soul, I pushed myself upright again and stepped in front of Sage and Serafin. Pyrope had retreated to stand nearer to me after the first explosion, and she stood with me to face the Fuath. Many of them were as alarmed by their mage’s endeavours as I was, and their panic gave me a moment to find the source of that foul magic.
He had tipped his head back and stood grinning up at Ciaran’s retreating spectre with a mouth full of serrated, black teeth. He wore a threadbare cloak over mismatching armour like most of the Fuath, but he clenched a stone bowl emitting a sickly green glow on his grey flesh.
That had to be whatever mixture he’d created to form those green explosions.
Once Ciaran had flown off, the Fuath mage turned his attention toward us. I met his large, reptilian eyes and knew Sage’s shadow shields were all down.
The mage grinned, an expression of the purest evil, and I was ready to sever my fucking arteries and bleed the magic I needed to kill the motherfucker. But Sage had gotten to his feet behind me and grabbed my arm.
“No! You are done, Summer!”
“You don’t tell me when I’m done! I’m not done until you and Serafin and Pyrope are safe!” I shouted.
How could he think that he could give me his armour, but I was not allowed to defend him?
Sage looked at me with a strange expression which I could not discern quickly enough before he had abruptly shoved me backward hard. I was shocked and confused at first because it had been a long time since he was rough with me. But I understood all too soon when I stepped back to catch my balance before I fell on my ass…
Only for my foot to hit nothing but open air.
I plummeted past the edge of the cliff with my mouth opening in a soundless scream.