Runes pulse. Wings snap wide into the night. Steel sings from its sheath.
Reon cracks his knuckles, sparks dancing across his fingers as he rolls his shoulders. “Typical Ithranor. Always know how to ruin a good time.”
I glance over just as Orios leans down to kiss Solena’s forehead. Her eyes are closed, serene, while he presses a sword, embarrassingly larger than my borrowed toothpick, into her hands. He has trained her near every day, and she has even managed to disarm him once or twice. Yet Orios is simple, easy to read, his heart worn plainly for all to see. He is proud of her, yes, proud that she can stand her ground, but he knows what every warrior does. A sword may give her strength, but it will never shield her from death. If anything, it draws her closer to it.
Then Orios looks at me.
The tension between us, riddled with doubt and anger, burns away like ash in wind.
“Do you need assistance, Rook?” he asks.
I grin, flicking my gaze upward. “Just a boost, if you don’t mind.”
He nods once, grabs a fistful of my shirt, bends his knees, and launches into the air.
The wind howls. His wings snap open as we surge skyward, and when we reach the height, when the cold sinks into my bones and the enemy encircles us like a noose, he hurls me straight into them.
I slice into the sky, arms tight to my sides, dagger ready. The wind screams past my ears, and for a brief heartbeat, I’m weightless, until I crash into the first Ithranor.
I hit hard, knees to chest, blade to throat, and ride the bastard down. His blood fans across my face as I rip the dagger free and use the collapsing body as a launch point. My feet strike his shoulders, and I push.
I vault upward, twisting mid-air as another surges toward me. They see me too late.
The blade sinks into the hollow of his stomach, his cry stolen by the wind. I yank sideways, spilling guts into the open air, then propel myself toward the next.
An Ithranor male slashes at me, but I fold backward, wind curling over my spine, and flip beneath his swing. I kick upward, catching him under the chin, and use the momentum to launch off his chest, again, again, climbing the sky one body at a time.
But my luck breaks. I miss a grab and suddenly there’s nothing but cold air and the looming ocean below.
A hand grabs the back of my collar.
Zyphoro.
Her wings beat hard as she swings me once, twice, then hurls me higher into the fray.
I hit hard, blade first, plunging the dagger into an Ithranor’s neck. Blood spurts across my arm as I wrench it free. Another charges. I catch his wrist mid-strike, twist, and drive my elbow into his throat. Bone cracks. He drops and this time, so do I.
We spiral downward, his body limp in my grip. I catch flashes as I fall. Orios blurring by, colliding with an enemy mid-air, steel screaming against steel. Zyphoro tangling with a female above me, throttling her with her bare hands. Solena crashes into the crow’s nest, pins an Ithranor to the wood, and drives her sword straight through his chest.
No one sees me falling.
They’re too busy trying to stay alive.
The deck rushes up fast. I grit my teeth, wondering how the fuck I got into this mess.Just a boost, I’d said.Just a fucking boost. I squint through half-lidded eyes, bracing for the splintering crack of my bones on timber.
But I don’t hit.
The Ithranor I dragged down with me does, hitting the ground in a wet crack of bone and flesh.
I freeze midair.
Light sparks around me. I glance down.
Reon stands below, arms out, fingers lit up like kindling.
“Maybe try staying on the ground,” he groans, sweat beading on his forehead.
He lowers me gently, and when I’m a few feet off the deck, he snaps his fingers. I drop with a soft thud.
