Page 102 of Of Blood and Fire
Then, without warning, the attack stopped. I nocked my bow and raised it, waiting, not sure what was about to happen but suspecting the pause didn’t mean they were in retreat.
I was right.
They charged through the flames, unfettered by the shields, coming at us from all sides, their hair and leathers on fire and weapons raised and ready. I scrambled away from Kaia, giving her room to move and sweep her tail, then swiftly aimed and fired, again and again, until the quiver was empty. I threw the bow down, called forth more fire—and, ignoring the white-hot nails of pain stabbing into my brain—swept it around me, forming a personal barrier of protection. Then I drew my sword and knife and charged. The Mareritt roared their approval and amusement and came at me hard. I parried, ducked, and attacked as best I could, taking hits, giving hits, until my arm ached as fiercely as my head and my leg. Behind me, Kaia swept her tail back and forth, scattering many, killing many, but they were faster, fleeter of foot, and she was taking multiple hits, her scales bloody, her body crisscrossed with wounds. Her pain sang through my soul, making it ache, making it fear.
Again, the horns sounded, much closer this time. As hope of rescue stirred, the Mareritt doubled their efforts, attacking me, beating me back and back, the movement of their blades so fast they were little more than blurs. One got through, skimming across my stomach, cutting the coat but not skin. Another blade slashed at my face, barely missing. I kept moving backward, still swinging, the clash of steel against steel sharp and loud in the air, echoing above their screams and battle cries. My back hit Kaia’s hind leg, and she twisted around, sweeping the lot of them away with the side of her head. Still they came at us, risking death via fire or claws while others stood back, casting spears, aiming for her eyes, her snout. I reached for more flame in an effort to burn them in the air, but nothing came, and the flames around us began to flicker and fade....
I finally reached for Kaia’s strength, but in that instant, multiple figures leapt through my fading fires. Figures that were mounted and bearing swords that dripped with blood. They went left and right around Kaia, sweeping through the Mareritt, felling each and every one of them until the ground was covered with their blood and their bodies and none were left alive. Then they wheeled away, back through the flickering, dying flames, into what remained of the battlefield.
All of them but one.
Damon.
He pulled his sweating courser to a sliding halt, leapt off, and ran to me, wrapping me in his arms, pulling me close, his big body shaking with relief. For the longest time, neither of us moved. We held on tight to each other, my head against his chest, ear pressed close, listening to the thunder of his heart.
Eventually, he whispered, his breath warm against the top of my scalp, “When you went down, I feared this was it, that the Mareritt would do what my father could not. It was the worst half hour of my life.”
“Probably not as bad as the half hour I went just through.” I lifted my gaze to his and briefly lost myself in the caring and love so visible in those blue depths. “And you should know by now I’m too fucking ornery to let the bastards take me out that easily. What of the other kin and drakkons?”
“All alive.”
“Injuries?”
“Nothing that can’t be repaired.”
The remaining tension slithered away. “The Mareritt?”
“On the retreat, chased by drakkons and Esan’s finest mounted force.” He brushed the lightest of kisses across my lips. “We’ve medics on the way, too—the Prioress is shielding them.”
“ThePrioress?I didn’t think battlegrounds were her thing.”
“Oh, they’re not, and the price we pay for inconveniencing her in such a manner is naming our first daughter after her.”
I snorted, then winced as my brain protested the sound. “Hard to do when we don’t know her first name. Or is that another of those shady half-truths of yours?”
“If I say the latter, will you get mad?”
“Right now, no. Later, when I’ve more energy? Possibly.” I reluctantly drew away from him. “I need to cut away the net from Kaia’s snout before it digs in too much.”
“I’ll do that—if she’ll let me.”
Am hungry, but not enough to eat him, she rumbled, amusement evident.
I smiled. “She says she’ll resist the urge to taste test.”
“Good of her.” He took my sword from my bloody fingers. “You should sit down before you fall.”
“A plan I can get behind. A little help would be appreciated, though.”
He gently lowered me down. After waiting a couple of seconds to make sure I wasn’t going to collapse backward, he walked over to his mount, untied the saddle bag, and then returned.
“Here, drink this.” He squatted in front of me and uncorked a small vial. “It’ll help with the head and all the other aches.”
I doubted such a small vial of pain potion could achieve a task as monumental as that, but I nevertheless gulped it down. As usual, it tasted vile, and I couldn’t help but shudder. Damon then handed me a flask of water, and I took a sip, wary of drinking too much, too quickly, despite how thirsty I was. He watched me for a second longer, as if still uncertain I wasn’t going to collapse, then walked over to Kaia. Once she’d lowered her head to the ground, he carefully began to slice and pull the rope away from her skin, mouth, and snout. I watched, sucking in deep breaths in an effort to chase away the pain and the desperate need to just let go. I couldn’t, not until Kaia was patched and healed and safely on her way back to the aerie and Gria.
It didn’t take all that long to remove the ropes. Kaia rumbled her appreciation and raised her head, smoke puffing from her nostrils.Riders come.
No doubt the medics and the Prioress.
