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His footsteps were sloppy and Rion sloshed through deep puddles that had muck clinging to his pants and boots. His mother ran at his side, watching their back as if she expected warriors to emerge at any moment.
They were close. Far, far too close. They shouldn’t have stopped. They should have just kept going until they’d found a town that could protect them. If they could protect them. Rion wasn’t certain of Niall’s reach or how many villages bowed to his influence. For all he knew, they could be deep in Pádraigín’s territory, which left them far more vulnerable than he wanted to admit.
The voices echoed again and Rion tried to quiet his footsteps, as did his mother. They leapt over puddles as best they could and entered a grouping of trees ahead. He could smell the river and hear its swell, too. They wouldn’t be able to use the water to hide their scents, not without the risk of drowning.
The trees dipped and the pair tried not to slow their pace as they slid down the steep incline. Rion used several trees to keep himself upright and Kaylee clung to his back tighter and hid her face in his back. She likely understood the need for quiet better than anyone.
The roar of the river swallowed up sound and they darted for it, sprinting over the small clearing. Large rocks jutted up between the gnarled roots of trees. The river had escaped the confines of its banks and flooded the tall grass.
Rion spotted another outcropping in the rocks and dove for it. He pried Kaylee’s hands from his shirt and pushed her inside. “Stay here.” Rion turned to his mother. “I’ll distract them and the first chance you get, you run. Ask for Arianna or Talon; trust no one else until you find them.”
Eimear wanted to protest, he could see it in her eyes, but she also knew this was the only way. Whoever was tracking them had caught his scent and they were too close to outrun.
He’d fight until his last breath to ensure the females escaped.
Rion backed away, watching Kaylee’s silent tears, then ducked when he heard the sharp twang of a string loosen. The arrow flew past his head, narrowly missing his shoulder. Battle cries split the air and warriors dressed in black emerged from the shadows. They sprinted down the hill, weapons drawn and magic at the ready. Rion’s heart plummeted. He hadn’t hidden them fast enough.
He met Eimear’s gaze, but instead of sorrow or fear, he found that warrior’s stare pinning him in place. She wasn’t going down without a fight either.
His mother whispered something to Kaylee and the little girl wedged herself into a small crevice between the boulders.
He prayed she would survive even if they didn’t. Perhaps Niall’s warriors wouldn’t notice her after the battle.
They drew closer, and Rion scented magic of all varieties. A dozen. Two. He steeled himself, willing strength into his weary limbs. Just a little more, he kept telling his body. A little further, then it could rest.
“You really shouldn’t have run,” one of the males said, his voice muffled by the sound of the river. “It’s those two who will suffer for it.” He inclined his head to Eimear. “Niall will punish the females just so you understand what’s at stake should you ever try something like this again.” The male turned toward his mother. “And you, you should know better already. Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Rion didn’t want to think about what that meant.
A stealthy shadow closed in from his left but Rion snapped the chain dangling from his wrist like lightning. It wrapped around the male’s weapon and Rion wrenched the blade from the warrior’s grasp. He tossed the slender sword to his mother and she caught it in a graceful movement that reminded Rion of a dancer.
The rest lunged as one in a storm of blades and crackling magic.
Rion used that iron chain again, harnessing months of aggression in a single blow. It wrapped around a warrior’s throat and Rion pulled hard.
A resounding crunch told him he’d hit home, but the growls that followed promised he’d pay for it.
Not today. He’d win or he’d die fighting. There were no other alternatives.
Rion charged. He avoided their swings and in close quarters, their magic was useless. Three tracked his movements, ignoring the female warrior who followed in his shadow and sliced through their bodies with lethal efficiency.
Another four closed in. A blade swung and Rion raised the chain to block it. His mother ducked beneath his arms and plunged her sword into the male’s abdomen before ripping it out his side. Rion caught another blade and wrenched it away from its owner, then fire collided with his left side, singeing his tunic and forearm. Rion cried out as the wind came alive and slammed him into the ground, then ice began crawling up his leg.
Eimear sliced a throat and the frost stopped momentarily.
Slow. They were moving too slow and each twist or pivot was sloppier than the last.
More warriors emerged from the trees on his left, but Rion couldn’t focus on them, not as he watched a wall of fire rise up and barrel straight for his mother. She stood against it, weapon drawn, a warrior who wouldn’t back down from anything.
Panic seized him, then the river—the river moved. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but the raging current that promised a watery grave sprang to life. Tendrils of black water as thick as his body flew in all directions, colliding with anyone in their path. The puddles at his feet rose then solidified into jagged spikes before plunging deep into his enemy’s bodies. Warrior after warrior fell, clutching wounds inflicted by an unknown source.
What—
Her scent hit him like an electrical current and Rion whirled. His heart skipped a beat as he watched the most beautiful creature alive dance through her opponents. Her cerulean eyes burned with icy rage and Rion felt something in his core unwind at the sight of her.
She’d come. Arianna had come for him.
His body trembled now and he watched her as if the fight weren’t still happening around him. Her hostile snarl snapped Rion back to the present. Arianna sprinted toward him, a twin pair of bloody knives in her grasp. Her face didn’t light up with relief, nor did she show any signs of slowing.
Rion’s heart stopped as he beheld the anger in her gaze. He had so many things he needed to say but—a myriad of feelings poured through him. Maybe—maybe she hadn’t come for him in the way he’d hoped. She adjusted the grip on her weapons, still running and Rion let his arms fall to his sides.
