Page 93 of Red Demon
He lunged for me, and I froze.
In that instant, I knew I’d rather let him kill me than live through this again. Even if he was gone, I wanted none of his blood on my hands.
“Behind!” He ran past, his sword a streak of silver. As a man emerged from the clearing, Asher blooded him on the first thrust, spraying across the brown leaves as he followed through.
It took me a moment to understand, to find enough hope to take a breath. “Ash?” I ran to him.
Asher turned back, his sword slick with blood. “I’m fine,” he gasped, his voice hoarse.
I stared at him, searching his face for any sign of a demon’s presence, numb to the sweat stinging my eyes. I dropped Istaran as I pulled his chest to mine, my fist to his neck as I held his bloody body, breathing ragged breaths.
“Brother, I’m fine,” Ash said, a chuckle in his voice.
“Fucking stay that way,” I said, not willing to let go for a while.
Over the iron-rich scent of blood, the sounds of birds returned to the clearing. Faruhar gestured to the fallen figures with a jerk of her head. “Loot what you can. Quick.”
We picked through the pockets, finding a meager haul: a few silver coins, a couple of daggers that didn’t need sharpening, and a small bag of mixed shortgrain and mushroom flour for flatbread. Faruhar peeled off a pair of durable pants from a woman who looked about her size.
“Bria says Mahakal’s search party is closing in.” Asher’s gaze darted to the woods. “She’s coming out to you now.”
Faruhar nodded. She cleaned her blades on a corpse’s shirt and did that double-sheathing move that took me a full year to get right.
Asher swayed as he sheathed his own sword, almost dropping it.
I caught him before he could fall. “You okay?”
He blinked away the dazed look in his eyes. “Weirdest feeling ever when she left, like falling up to the sky. She scared the shit out of me on the way in too.”
“I noticed.”
With a signal from Faruhar, I picked up Asher’s bag and we took off east.
“Did she … control you?” I thought of the ghost girl, her rigid movement.
“No,” Asher said. “Just … observing: a little girl just sitting there in rags. She’s younger than I thought she’d be. I felt bad for her.”
Faruhar grunted. “Surprised she protected you. It’s harder for me to concentrate on the fight if I have to focus on keeping ghosts out.”
“That was you fighting distracted?” I said. Her form was impeccable. “Train me to move like that, please. I’ll kill as many ruren-sa as you want.”
“Train you?” Faruhar picked up her pace. “Mahakal’s going to know we were here the moment he sees those bodies. Let’s focus on that.”
We ran on for a while before Faruhar cocked her head to something I couldn’t hear, quick as a bird. I looked around.
“Bria says there’s another unit of Mahakal’s soldiers downriver, a couple dozen on horseback. They’re closing in from the north while Mahakal’s coming from the west with the remainder of his forces. The river is blocking us in to the east. If we don’t slip south before they intersect...”
She trailed off, but the implication was clear. Mahakal would seize us in the jaws of a trap.
Faruhar broke into a run, slashing through the undergrowth and brush as she went. We settled into pace beside her.
The forest began to thin, giving way to a vast, open plain. Sparse, wild grain popped up in a rocky meadow, and a herd of deer took off past the ruins of an old farmhouse, land once settled before the Nara lost so many people in the Ghost War.
I had no problem keeping pace with Faruhar, but Asher’s breathing grew ragged, his steps faltering. At some point, we had to slow further. Up ahead, a faint rumble echoed between the hills: the undeniable sound of approaching hoofbeats.
I understood the desperation on Faruhar’s face as we approached a ruined barn, but I didn’t see any place to hide inside, just a square of open stone. When she skidded to a halt, I panicked.
“Far?”
