Page 45 of On Brutal Thrones

I let myself believe we’re actually going to make it. We’re so close now that I can see individual roots beneath the trees. Close enough to imagine stepping onto dry earth.

Irritatingly, another wave of bats descends on us. Thorian swings his sword at one diving for his head while Fenric thrusts his spear into another. A few feet away, Talon catches a bat with one hand and plunges his dagger into its chest.

I tighten my grip on my own dagger, searching the sky for the next one.

Movement ahead catches my attention as a blur bursts from between the trees. A massive dog! It races across the narrow stretch of solid ground separating the trees from the blood, heading straight toward us. Its paws tear through the dirt, its muzzle slick with blood and its lips pulled back from long teeth.

For one instinctive second, I prepare to meet it with my dagger.

Then I see the roots. They twist through the earth beneath the creature’s paws, thick and tangled, some breaking through the surface before disappearing beneath the soil again.

My attention locks on them. I’m a fae. A fae’s greatest strength is nature magic. I felt roots like those in the cave and reached for them through layers of stone and earth and somehow made them answer me.

Can I do it again?

The dog races closer.

I reach for the magic inside me. It comes faster this time. Heat rushes through my veins and tingles along my fingertips as I focus on the roots beneath the dog.

Up.

For one terrifying second, nothing happens. Then the earth moves. A root tears free of the soil directly in front of the dog. Another follows, twisting upward so quickly that the creature has no chance to avoid it. They wrap around its front legs, and its body slams hard against the ground.

The dog yelps and thrashes, claws digging furrows through the dirt as it tries to pull itself free.

I stare at it.

The roots tighten. Another snakes around one of its back legs. They pull the dog down, and I coax more and more roots to tighten around the creature until he’s fully trapped against the ground. Then, I release my magic along with a deep breath.

A laugh bursts out of me. “I did it!”

I can barely believe what I’m seeing. I didn’t draw a rune. I didn’t sit there concentrating while everyone waited for me to figure out what I was doing. I saw what I needed, reached for my magic, and the earth answered.

A rush of air brushes the back of my neck. Too late, I hear the beat of wings. Something slams into my shoulder. Claws rake across my forearm as a bat tears past me, and pain burns through my skin.

“Shit!”

I duck and slash with my dagger, but the creature is already climbing back into the sky. For a second, I stare after it, breathing hard. My arm is stinging, but I flex my fingers and everything works.

Fine.

I’m fine.

And I just used my magic.

I look back at the dog. It’s still struggling on the solid ground, snarling and snapping while the roots hold it exactly where I put it.

Near me, Talon makes a sound I’ve never heard from him before. A wounded snarl.

I turn, my excitement disappearing as he stares at me. His expression is twisted with an emotion I don’t recognize.

“Talon?”

He starts toward me, quickly breaking into a run.

Something warm slides down my forearm.

I glance down.