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It was what we did for each other. We fought the darkest fears, the darkest creatures, and we did not let them steal us away.
My body was growing too weak, too lax. I could not lift a blade, but I could fight the best way I knew how. Memories.
I let my head drop to the cold, clammy skin of the sluagh. If it would work by merely touching, I didn’t know, but I could not lift my arms to use my hands. Contact through our heads would need to be enough.
All I could do was pray these fae did not have wards the same as the skydguard.
When the sluagh inhaled again, I did the same. Shallow at first, but each breath grew stronger. Deeper. Soon enough ghostly shapes formed in my mind.
The strangest memories formed. The sluagh lived on primal, base instincts. Hunting and mating seemed to be their core memories. Soon the sluagh stopped inhaling.
Little by little the white smoke bridging the space between me and the fae returned to my mouth. Heat once again flowed in my veins. I drew more breath. I took more memories. I dug into the depths of the sluagh’s mind until I could steal away the memory of learning from its wretched mother how to survive.
The sluagh whimpered, and my heart nearly broke for the pitiful creature.
With a great shove, I pushed the fae away from me. It curled its legs to its knobby chest and shivered.
The thing would not survive. It didn’t remember how. At this point, death was mercy, and I slammed my knife through its skull.
A scream shook me from the stun of hot blood oozing across the forest floor. Elise was desperately scrambling away from a long-armed sluagh. She fought back. The queen had not resigned to death yet and it would save her life and that of her child.
I limped over the distance between us and struck the sluagh in the notch at the base of the skull.
It thrashed for a few heartbeats before collapsing onto Elise. She kicked and gasped and cursed, desperately trying to be free of the corpse. I tucked my hands beneath her arms and dragged her out from under the body.
“Damn the hells.” Elise shuddered, swiping at her body as if a thousand prickling things ran up her arms, until her gaze whipped to the other side of the clearing. “Ari!”
Together, Elise and I darted to where Ari was slowly losing his battle between the last two sluagh.
A ragged caw drew my attention to the space above his head. By the hells, a raven pecked at the soft ears of one sluagh. It took flight when claws swiped at the bird, but in another breath the raven dove through the night and dug its talons into the scalp of the fae.
It would not kill the sluagh, but it gave Ari time to keep fighting.
Elise crept behind the one grabbing onto Ari’s ankle. I took the sluagh trying to snap its unhinged jaw toward Ari’s mouth.
With a cry of rage, Elise slammed her dagger through the sluagh’s skull to the hilt. I ended the second.
Ari rolled out of the blood seeping from the corpse. His hair was stuck to his sweaty brow and yellow spittle from the constant teeth gnashing at his face dripped off his cheeks.
“Dammit.” He kicked the dead sluagh. “Burn in the hells.” His boot slammed into the second corpse. A few more kicks and he seemed to come back to his senses. “Were you hurt much?”
The question was aimed at both me and Elise. Together we shook our heads. We almost breathed in relief. Almost relaxed. Until more screeching came from the trees.
“These were young sluagh,” Ari said, a little breathless. “More are coming.”
The raven swooped against the ambassador. It pecked at his head, crying out its call.
“Gods, cursed bird.” Ari swiped his arms overhead. “Be gone.”
The bird was relentless. Flying to the far side of the clearing, then returning to peck at Ari again.
When another bitter cry from approaching sluagh shattered the clearing, I shoved the man toward the bird. “It wants you to follow. Now, bleeding follow the raven.”
Ari gave up his resolve and sprinted behind Elise, the bird, and me.
Branches scraped my face. The ground sloped and dipped. I twisted my ankle more than once. When the raven perched on a boulder near lush ivy vines, I thought the horror of our night might at last come to an end.
Foolish of me to think following a suspicious bird would lead to hope and safety.
