“It’s working,” Logan calls. “Don’t let up.”
I don’t like this,Ulyssus growls as Serath and Dain join the party.
I don’t either. And, unlike the draken, I’m not fireproof.
But I agree with Ulyssus. And not just because I’m too warm. I don’t like how easy this is. Too easy.
Until it isn't.
Through the wavering blur of overheated air, I see a line of humans step forward from the column's center. For a moment I expect them to be archers, trying their luck over the shield-bearers’ barricade. A decent maneuver against another army, where quantity of arrows matter more than precision, but a poor choice against draken with their few vulnerable points. Not even the commandant has enough auric steel arrows to use them blindly.
Then the humans raise their hands in unison and I realize our mistake.
It’s a ring of enchanters, at least a dozen strong, raising their hands in unison. Their fingers weave patterns through the rain, bending the very air to their will.
"Pull up!" I shout, but it's already too late.
The winds shift with violent precision, catching our flames and curling them back toward us with spite. The rain, superheated by draken fire, transforms instantly into billowing clouds of steam, the scalding moisture engulfing us in seconds. One heartbeat, I’m looking down at neat lines of soldiers through the shimmer of the flames. The next, the world goeswhite—thick clouds of blistering mist surging into my eyes. My nose. My ears.
The heat is everywhere. It burns down my back and claws under my collar, the air searing my throat on the inhale. My vision narrows to a stinging blur. The sound of the storm dulls under the deafening hiss of boiling rain.
Ulyssus roars in my head. He’s fireproof, but the superheated air is too thin, stealing the lift from his wings. He beats harder, muscles straining, but the air won’t catch. We lurch, dropping several feet before he claws back altitude in short, angry bursts.
I don’t dare inhale and my lungs scream, both from lack of air and the burns they’ve already taken. I clutch Ulyssus, trusting him to get us out of here. Preferably alive.
An arrow whistles past my ear, so close I feel the airs displacement. Then another. And another. The humans are regrouping with alarming speed, archers now stepping forward to loose volleys through the steam. One hits my shoulder and I barely have time to appreciate that it’s not tipped with auric steel before an unfamiliar order is shouted below.
The next volley isn’t arrows alone. Thick nets, weighted with iron, spiral upward from the Eryndor ranks, arcs cutting through the rain. Criss-crossing the sky.
Logan banks hard, Nyx’s wing tip catching the edge of a net and shaking it just before it can twist around a talon. Serath isn’t so lucky—his draken yanks sideways, flapping frantically, almost colliding with Dain.
“Kai,” Logan shouts. “Your tail!”
I twist and see netting hanging off a spike along Ulyssus’s tail. The weighted cords whip around, tightening like a noose. Ulyssus thrashes, but the more he moves, the tighter it bites.
Swearing, I yank the arrow from my shoulder and, swinging my leg over the saddle ridge, begin the precarious crawl along Ulyssus’s rain-slick back. Every muscle in my body protests as Iinch toward his tail, the draken's massive body bucking beneath me with each powerful wing beat. One slip and I'll become a very attractive smear on the battlefield below.
Try not to get me killed.The words come in gasps even in my mind and I must pause to clutch a spine ridge as Ulyssus banks to avoid another net.
Try not to fall off.
I reach the tangled mess and unsheathe my dagger, the hilt slippery with rain and blood. The net's fibers are thick—some kind of treated hemp that resists cutting.And the iron weights, they are bigger than I first thought. They are made to take down draken.
And it took the humans less than two minutes to get them airborne.
It’s all so coordinated,so perfect, that I’m suddenly unsure the humans were ever in danger of falling into our trap.
Because I think we just fell into theirs.
Chapter 28
Rowan
The moment the forest closes around me, the storm changes. The wind still howls, but here it threads between trunks instead of battering me head-on, slipping cold fingers beneath my cloak. Rain patters against the canopy, gathers, then drops in heavy, unpredictable splats down the back of my neck. The forest floor is soft, sucking at my boots with every step.
In the distance to the west, smoke and flame rise over a mountain path I remember from Kyrian’s map. That’s where the fighting is happening. Where the Eryndor army is right now. Where I need to get to.
I test the bond again, tugging at it. Carefully at first, then with more force. Nothing but the familiar, distant hum answers. No sharp recoil. No immediate flare of awareness. No reason to make the males suspicious. And since they and the Eryndor force are currently co-located, I don’t even have to worry about inconveniently discovering the end of the bond’s range. After all, I am only moving closer to them now.
