Then I saw it. Constantine had to step backward when Caesar needed altitude. The way the chain jerked Constantine's ankle when the bird changed direction. They weren't just connected. They were dependent.
"The bird," I said quietly. "We break the bird."
Rafael's eye met mine. "It'll panic."
"Yeah." I watched Caesar circle. "And when animals panic, they attack whatever's closest."
"Constantine is chained to it."
"I know."
Understanding flickered across Rafael's face. It was brutal. Tactical. Exactly the kind of decision Constantine had taught us to make.
Rafael's jaw clenched. Then he nodded once. "On three. You break the wing. I'll drive it toward Constantine."
Constantine advanced, bludgeon raised. Caesar dove with him, talons extended toward Rafael's blind side.
"Three," Rafael said.
Rafael dropped to the ground, and I swung up hard with everything I had left. My bludgeon connected with Caesar's left wing mid-dive.
Bone crunched.
The eagle screamed in pain and fury. The broken wing hung at a wrong angle. Caesar thrashed in the air, unable to gain altitude, unable to fly, unable to escape the thing chaining him to the ground.
Rafael was already moving. He scrambled to his feet and swung his bludgeon low, not at Constantine, but at the stone floor beside the eagle. The crack of wood against stone was deafening in the chamber.
Caesar whipped around toward the sound, wings beating frantically. The bird was trapped between Rafael's advancing bludgeon and Constantine, who stood frozen, still holding his weapon.
Rafael swung again, closer to the bird. Then again. Driving it backward with each strike against the stone.
Toward Constantine.
The eagle did what any cornered, injured animal would do.
It attacked the nearest threat.
Constantine's ankle.
Constantine screamed.
Caesar tore at the chain binding them together, ripping through fabric and skin to get at the metal. His good wing beat frantically against the stone. Blood sprayed across white feathers. Constantine’s blood.
"Caesar, nein! Ruhig, mein Junge, ruhig!"
The eagle didn't stop. He bit down harder, beak punching through Constantine's calf, trying to sever his own chain at the source.
Rafael and I backed up, bludgeons raised, watching.
Constantine reached for the bird like he was trying to calm a frightened child. "Schh, schh. It's alright. I'm here. Caesar, please—"
The bird tore deeper into its master. Constantine's leg buckled, and he went down on one knee. His hand was still outstretched, reaching for the eagle's head.
Caesar released the calf and lunged for Constantine's face.
Constantine threw his arms up, but not fast enough. The beak caught his forearm and tore through to the bone. He screamed, and the sound was pure devastation.
"Please," Constantine gasped. "Caesar, bitte, it's me—"
