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The back of his fingers stroked her cheek, sincerity in his eyes. “I would love that, Nyana.”
A violent pounding on the front door downstairs startled them both upright, followed by the frightened screams of the children. Within seconds, Joel jumped up from the bed, dressing his lower half before throwing the bedroom door open. She scrambled after him, hastily dressing in her undergarments and racing onto the stairway for her dress.
Horror punched her in the gut at the thick haze of smoke crawling up the stairs.
Something was burning.
“Fire!” Maisy shouted downstairs, followed by Eva’s fearful sobs. Someone pounded on the door again, this time heavier thumps until it crashed open, splintering the wood.
Nyana finished buttoning her dress right as she reached the bottom stair. Smoke filled the air, sending her lungs into a spasming coughing fit. Her eyes burned, watering as she desperately attempted to locate the girls through the black haze.
“Nyana!” Bastien’s voice called through the smoke, and she stumbled toward the sound. Several nearly invisible obstacles blocked her way, and when she tripped and fell on her hands and knees, her lungs spasmed again.
Where was the fire coming from? Where were her children? What happened to Joel?
Bastien’s strong arms lifted her to her feet, pulling her out of the house while throwing a cloak over her shoulders and into the fresh—
No, not fresh air.
The sky burned red and gray and black as winged fae with black and orange hair and red-black lips battled against the white-haired fae of Attleglade. Fire shot from their fingertips, lighting trees ablaze. Arrows made of bone clashed against fire. Poison darts fought through branches and vines coming alive through magic.
Joel’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, shielding her from a blast of fire that singed the hairs on the back of her neck. Before she managed to comprehend the immediate danger, he picked her up by the waist and set her atop Sunweave, who was already saddled. Her girls sat huddled and terrified in front of her, small enough to share the saddle.
“Go!” Bastien growled as he nocked an arrow, pulled back, and shot the weapon with perfect accuracy. The arrow ripped through a pair of red and orange wings, bringing the man down with it. “The Ember Fae will kill you if you linger. Get as far away as you can. Don’t come back.”
“Bastien!” She coughed, the smoke stinging her eyes. He turned and met her gaze with immense sorrow in his expression. This was goodbye. Even if they managed to drive back their enemy, Attleglade laws would not allow them to return. She would likely never see her brother or father again.
A sob left her lips, but that was all she managed before Joel led Sunweave away from the village at a run.
She clutched onto her girls to keep them from falling off the creature, protecting them with her body as fire and arrows and poison darts whizzed over their heads. Powdery snow kicked up from the horse’s hooves, spraying them with icy blasts to combat the searing heat of the small blazes in their path.
In one hand, Joel held the reins. In the other, he lifted his bone flute to his lips and played a rapid melody with only a few fingers moving over the instrument. Heavy magic fell over them like a curtain, hiding them as they traveled out of the deep forest. Trees thinned, transitioning from large, home-sized trunks to skinnier roots and branches.
And then Sunweave limped.
The horse’s entire body jerked to one side with each limp, the rickety movement small at first before becoming enormous stumbles.
“Joel!” Nyana shrieked, and he spun around, eyes wide when he seemed to realize Sunweave was about to collapse. She thrust her children off the saddle. Joel barely caught them in his arms.
She attempted to jump off herself, but Sunweave stumbled one last time.
They fell.
A heavy weight crushed her.
Silence.
And then a stinging pain crawled up her leg, pinned beneath the creature. She cried out, struggling to free herself from the horse’s massive weight. Tears stung her eyes, followed by a sob escaping her throat.
“Nyana,” Joel gasped, and she barely saw him setting the children down and racing toward her through the blur of her tears. He grabbed Sunweave’s neck, attempting to coax him into standing. The horse only moaned and released a loud huff from his mouth.
Joel pulled a dart from Sunweave’s flank and threw it aside. He’d been hit.
The agony of being crushed by a creature at least six times her weight spurred her breathing into rapid, desperate gulps of air. She tried to wriggle her leg free but sobbed again when a terrible burning sensation crawled from her ankle to her hip.
“Hold on, love,” Joel murmured. “Hold on.”
He searched the ground frantically, his head just barely visible from her vantage point in the cold snow. But another head came into view just behind him. She swiped the tears from her eyes, only for them to grow wide at the sight of a man with an eyepatch.
