Page 38 of Dance of Stars and Ashes

The demon writhed for several seconds before it finally stopped moving, caving to death.

“The heads and stomachs! That’s where they’re vulnerable,” Rabin called from his perch atop the lifeless creature. “Aim for the heads and stomachs! Flip them over. Get underneath!”

“Zarya!” Row called to her. “Use your nightfire. It worked on the demons last time.”

Right. With her sword gripped in one hand, Zarya concentrated on her anchors, trying to remember how she’d called it up the night of the kala-hamsa attack.

Her five-pointed anchor spun in her heart, and she pulled them together, sending out a bolt of fire that slammed into the side of a scorpion. The force sent it flying, and it rolled over and over until it stopped on its back. A swarm of soldiers launched themselves on top, spearing it through the middle like Rabin had done.

Okay, that wasn’t entirely what she’d planned, but it would do.

Not sure why her nightfire hadn’t surfaced, she made do with another blast of fire as she moved down the line in the opposite direction of Row, trying to knock over as many as she could, leaving the soldiers to finish them off.

Apsara, her long white hair and feathered wings spattered with blood, also used her powers of air and wind to pick them up, flip them over, and pin them to the ground.

They were making good progress, systematically taking turns, knocking the monsters over, and then gutting them through.

Zarya chanced a glance into the forest, still wondering about the silent army of soldiers. Were they gone, or just biding their time? Had these demons been sent to wear them down before the real nightmare swept in?

She squinted into the darkness, noticing low shadows moving between the trees.

“No,” she whispered, spinning around. “More coming!” she screamed. “More coming!”

Sure enough, dozens more ajakava emerged from the forest, descending in a storm of clicks and chitters.

The night became a blur of magic and fire, the glint of steel and bronze, and the shrieks and cries of soldiers and demons as each side traded blows.

Covered in red and black blood, Zarya staggered along the earth, passing the foaming corpses of the fallen army, her body spent, not sure which direction was up or down. She alternated between fire and air, noticing her strength slowly dwindling as she channeled more and more of her power. Nevertheless, she persisted, doing whatever she could to immobilize the demons while the others moved in for the kill.

Periodically, she searched the crowd, ensuring Yasen was okay. She looked for Row, and Vik, the other Chiranjivi, and even Rabin—breathing easily when she saw him, also covered in blood as he leaped onto another scorpion and finished it off with a plunge of his sword and a fierce gleam in his eyes.

The way he moved was magnificent, and Zarya found herself staring as he whirled between skirmishes like he practically had wings. She wondered why he hadn’t transformed into his dragon. As if feeling his eyes on her, he glanced over her way, their gazes locking for a heartbeat before a cry summoned her attention.

Aarav was on the ground, a scorpion stalking towards him as he scrabbled back on his hands. Zarya noticed he was no longer holding a weapon, his sword lying several feet away.

Zarya ran towards them. She gathered her fire anchor, prepared to blast the beast away, but too many soldiers crowded around it, hacking away at its impenetrable outer shell to no avail.

“Move!” she screamed. “Move out of the way!” But they were too engrossed in their task, and her voice was drowned out by the noises of the fight.

“Move!” she screamed, sprinting closer. She grabbed the arm of a soldier, seizing his attention.

“You all need to clear out of the way!”

The man seemed to understand immediately, and he nodded before shouting at his companions to clear some space.

Aarav inched back, caged by the legs of the ajakava. A soldier moved in, and the scorpion swung out a pincer, snapping around the woman’s waist and snipping her clean in half like she was nothing but a satin ribbon.

The parts of her mangled body dropped to the ground, and Zarya let out a cry and covered her mouth as bile basted the back of her throat.

Aarav had figured out how to stay out of danger for the moment. There wasn’t much the demon could do where he lay positioned directly under its mouth. Its claws didn’t bend in a way that allowed access to Aarav, and its mouth posed no threat. It crept along as Aarav scrambled back—it was working for now, but that wouldn’t hold the demon off for long.

Finally, there was an opening, and Zarya took it, sending out a blast of fire, but something was wrong. Instead of a steady stream, it was a weak, thin line of magic. She had used too much. The fire hit the scorpion’s carapace, knocking it sideways but without enough force to turn it over.

It screeched as it slid, its legs scrabbling in the grass, but worst of all, Zarya had caused Aarav to lose his safe position under its head, and he was now within pinching distance. The ajakava snapped a claw, cinching Aarav around the waist before it lifted him up, tossing him side to side.

Aarav screamed as his legs kicked. Zarya screamed, too, remembering what it had just done to the woman a moment ago.

She had to do something. She couldn’t let Aarav die like this. She pulled her sword from her back and, hoping the thing was distracted, she ran, skidding underneath its body.