Hale’s head moved. He was starting to rouse. Now was the time.
Remy took a deep breath and summoned the last of her magic, making her weapons fly into her hand.
Soldiers shouted, whirling to her as she shouldered her quiver and nocked the first arrow. Her eyes narrowed as she braced her feet and shot straight into a soldier’s eye. More shouting erupted as more soldiers spilled out through the woods. Remy did not stop. She shot three more soldiers in rapid succession.
Hale’s eyes were fluttering open. She needed to buy them more time.
She grabbed another arrow from her quiver. A blinding pain shot through her forearm and she cried out. They had shot an arrow through her arm. The weapon had come from behind her. She whipped her head around just in time to see another arrow flying toward her. She dropped to the ground, avoiding it.
The archer stood several paces back. Beside him was that blue witch whispering to the archer, whispering what Remy was about to do.
Remy crawled through the underbrush. She crouched, ready to run, when another arrow pierced her thigh. She screeched, trying and failing to run, flopping across the ground like a fish out of water.
Move, move, she urged her body as six fae soldiers ran toward her. She heard another arrow whoosh through the air, and she dropped flat to the ground. She looked up just in time to see a fist swooping toward her face.