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“It hasn’t stopped for anything, just traveling in nearly a straight line,” Pyetar added. “Which seems unlikely for a natural creature.”

That was a good point. It was a clue, if nothing else.

They continued on, Iryana using her gloved hand to block the wind from blowing right into her eyes. Pyetar had the lead, breaking a path for her and blocking the worst of the wind.

A crunch echoed through the trees, and Iryana froze. Pyetar threw his arm out as if to keep her behind him.

Neither of them bothered forming their forgings; it was likely just a lone dakya that would be more likely to leave them be if they didn’t seem threatening. They just had to wait and listen for movement in the pines.

Iryana had just opened her mouth to tell Pyetar she thought it was fine when she saw something.

A two-horned beast stepped out of the trees, paws sinking deep into the snow as its great head turned toward them. It seemed to watch them with those soulless black eyes, nostrils flaring. It was a ways off, but not so far away that she couldn’t see the razor-sharp black teeth.

They waited for it to move on, but it just kept watching them. A chill slithered up Iryana’s spine, and her fingers twitched.

Then another dakya stepped up behind the first, pausing alongside its companion. Three sets of horns curled away from this beast’s head.

They hadn’t run into a pair in a while. Would they attack? Would they ignore them and move on? She didn’t know. Iryana squared her shoulders, trying to look strong without immediately seeming like a threat. Pyetar flexed his hand as if debating whether it was time to form his weapon.

The woods were dense in that area, not as open as the stretches where the larger packs were seen. That gave her some comfort.

Then Iryana heard a huff behind her and whirled around. “Pyetar,” she cried quietly in warning.

Two more dakii stalked toward them through the trees.

Pyetar threw a quick glance behind him. Then with one hand he formed his beast spear, and with the other he pushed Iryana off to the side, trying to get all four dakii in front of him. Trying to protect her.

“I don’t think I have a choice,” she whispered as the dakii prowled slowly toward them. She needed more than imbued weapons, and he was going to need her help. She could see that Pyetar was conflicted, that he wanted to say she didn’t have to, but he just gave one curt nod.

Just as the dakii started to pick up speed, snow flying around them as they tore through it, Iryana tossed her wooden bow off her shoulder and gritted her teeth.

She pushed her left hand in front of her, her right reaching toward it. She forced the magic of her bow into her outstretched hand, an arrow into her right as she nocked it against the materializing string and drew back to her cheek. She hardly felt the pain with the adrenaline coursing through her.

Fingers letting go, she sent the arrow toward the closest dakya where it sunk deep into one of its eyes.

The monster stumbled, wavering, giving Pyetar the opportunity to sink his spear into its neck and twist and rip, throwing it to the ground. He formed his forged dagger and drove it into the back of the dakya’s skull just as the others were almost on him.

One down, three to go.

Iryana was already drawing another forged arrow, letting the first dissipate. Just as she released, the magic from the first arrow tore back inside her, ripping into her like teeth. Her shot went wild.

She gasped, but repeated the process, bracing better for the pain.

Pyetar couldn’t move quickly with the snow, but his spear was impossibly fast, whirling to drive the dakii back and give him room to work. He caught a launching dakya with his spear, grunting as he redirected its momentum toward the ground. Iryana sunk an arrow into its skull before it even hit the snow.

They moved in tandem, Pyetar pinning the dakii long enough for her to get a kill shot in. Each arrow she formed and released made her feel more unsteady.

The final beast hesitated, as if considering whether attacking was a good idea now that all its friends were bleeding out on the snow. Iryana took advantage of its stillness to fire one arrow behind its front shoulder and one into the side of its head.

The dakya dropped.

Iryana’s chest heaved, looking over the gray-blue fur of the dakii nestled into the snow. Their black blood poured out of them, steam rising into the cold air. They waited, listening, but she couldn’t hear any other threats.

“This is going to hurt,” Iryana mumbled to herself, squeezed her eyes shut, and released her hold on her forged bow and the final two arrows.

Pain like she hadn’t experienced since her second forging slammed into her.

Chapter Nineteen