Page 322 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

Only when the inferno faded—the wingbeats with it—did I breathe, “Nobody leaves. We stay together. Period.”

Catching on, Jason said, “We hunker down.”

“It means to drain our magic?” Rika asked.

“Yes,” I agreed, sliding my pack off Magnolia’s arm. “It’s after Mags. We’re in the way. It expects the thicket to help it, but I think it’s overestimating how badly the illusions scare us.” I yanked the pack open. “We fight another day. Use the ward for concealment. It either won’t face the thorns or it’s playing with us. Either way, we exploit it.” Reaching deep into the enchantment, I found my shield—silver in the mist as it sprang back to size.

“So, we take turns with the shield—move as one unit, stay under the cover of the brambles,” Jason deduced.

I nodded, grabbing Magnolia’s hand in mine as the others did the same, making sure we stayed connected as we forged ahead.

Because the reality was, we had two opponents. Balorath. And Koa.

The branches overhead were crumbling as shadow flames licked down the length of them, revealing darkness and stars beyond.

“Move on three—we need to put at least a hundred yards between us and the openings, keep the thorns between us and those talons. Don’t let go.” When they all nodded, I counted down to the sound of ever-growing wingbeats, hoisting the shield up to barge our way through the brambles. “One, two, three.”

Together, we bolted. I braced my shield and slammed through most of the spindles, snapping them clean off. Through fog and thorns, we ran, half blind as resilient branches snagged at our clothes, our packs. A tug on my hand had me glancing back as Brody and Jason kept Rika on her feet.

Magnolia looked back at me, determination warring with terror across her face.

Beneath it, trust. In me. Trust I prayed I didn’t waste.

We forged ahead in a near sprint as I shoved our way through.

Woosh-woosh.

“Shield,” I barked, throwing up both the physical and energetic barriers as I yanked the four of them beneath it, hoisting the metal high. Flames roared and wingbeats grew closer.

Louder.

“Bold warrior,” Balorath rumbled, “your courage lacks counsel.”

I grimaced against the force of this attack, bracing against the wall of midnight heat as Mags’ shadows rushed out around us in a great plume. The moment those massive wings beat, we forged ahead.

Again and again, we slammed through the thicket on nothing but faith, running until we were forced to brace.

Run. Brace. Burn. Move. Again and again until I lost count. Even my legs shook, my lungs burning. The fact that the girls were still upright—half-dragged by my companions—was a damn miracle.

Branches snapped and creaked.

Somewhere in the depths of darkness, the bay of crawlers sent a chill down my spine.

How many fronts could we face at once and survive?

Jason and Brody were capable, but we were battling sheer strength.

Woosh-woosh.

The thud of wingbeats competed with the roar of blood in my ears as we cut through another hundred-yard sprint.

Commands weren’t necessary as we knelt and braced for the next wave of flame.

“Unræd,” Balorath growled, soaring low enough that branches snapped above us, popping like fireworks. Jason cursed. Then came the worst wave of heat yet, and I gritted my teeth against the onslaught.

Only years beside Ally prepared me for the sensation of flesh leaving my body even through the shield. Mags and Rika both cried out, Jason casting ice for a reprieve and muttering a curse when it steamed, melting instantly.

Out. We needed out. Beyond the thicket, though, we’d have no cover. Pines, if we were lucky. Maybe it was too large to fly between them, but it could topple them easily enough and burn the rest. I roared as Mags cried out, both of us forcing our energy against the blaze.