The woods were teeming with the pack. How many were there? Another hundred? More than that? She unleashed the magic in her blood and sent it blasting into the front ranks as they rushed her savagely, barking and snarling. The flames scythed through them, turning their coal-black hide into ash.
Her father stood by her side, his arms raised, his fingers like hooked talons as he sent wave after wave of flame into the midst of the attacking creatures. Phae glanced over and saw that Shion had found his feet again and struck at the Shade with his free hand. He kicked and punched. Nothing swayed Aunwynn. With colossal strength Shion was thrown down, each time harder and harder, as if he were an unripe walnut refusing to be split open. Phae grimaced at the look on Shion’s face. She saw not pain but determination.
And then she witnessed Kiranrao rising up behind the Shade, plunging the blade Iddawc into its back. A sound ripped through the forest—the squealing sound of metal rending wood. It was a haunting sound, a keening rip that made Phae cover her ears as her knees buckled. The Shade arched its back in agony, its jangled limbs contorting into odd angles. The maw on its face opened wide enough to fill the entire cowl and millions of black flecks jetted forth, spraying skyward and disintegrating.
In the end, Kiranrao was left gripping an empty, ragged cloak. Nothing else remained. He tossed the cloak aside.
The hounds turned and bolted, scattering like the moths, like windblown leaves, like the dew frost before a blazing sun.
Shion carefully lifted his head; he was covered in dirt and dried oak leaves. The whip was still lashed around his wrist and body. The handle rested nearby.
Kiranrao tossed the tattered cloak aside, his expression haughty.
“I could have killed it sooner, but I didn’t want to stab you by mistake,” the Romani said. He reached down and helped Shion rise. Slowly, her protector unwound himself from the deadly implement.
“I’m glad you didn’t miss,” Shion said sternly.
Kiranrao smirked. “I respect you, Kishion. You saved the Shaliah. We all need her to survive this place.” He gave her a look of intense interest and gracefully bowed to her. “I am in your debt, Khiara. I look forward with interest to repaying it in the future.”
Khiara’s own neck was lacerated by the barbs of the lash, trickles of blood she tried to stanch. “I gave it freely. There is no debt.”
Kiranrao shook his head. “A promise is a debt. I will repay.” Then he turned to Tyrus, his face full of mocking. “Is that the worst these Scourgelands can send at us?”
“No,” Tyrus said flatly. “We’ve only just begun.”
While Khiara tended to heal the others from injuries, Phae crept up on Shion and brushed some crushed leaves from his arm. “Are you hurt?” she asked him quietly.
He looked at her in surprise, then shook his head no.
She sighed with relief, and he seemed amused by her concern.
“The Shade was stronger than me, clearly. I had a wolf by the tail and dared not let go. He could not hurt me, nor I him. And while I would not die from it, the thought of being gnawed on for eternity by those hounds isn’t pleasant.”
He wandered over to the brush where his knife had landed and retrieved it, sheathing it back in the scabbard on his belt.
“If only you had Kiranrao’s blade,” she suggested. “That would have worked.”
Shion shook his head, revulsion replacing his calm expression. “I don’t want it. There is something malignant about that blade. Every time I am near it, I feel . . . whispers . . . in my heart.”
“You feel whispers? You don’t hear them?”
“No, that’s not it. It’s not voices in my head. They’re in my heart.” He tapped his chest with a finger. “They’re familiar to me.” He glanced around at the trees, a dazed look appearing in his eyes. “This place is familiar. I’ve been here before.”
She reached for his hand and then patted it, nodding without understanding. In a strange way, it was the same for her. The presence of ancient Dryads was all around her, making her feel tiny and insignificant. Yet at the same time, their magic was familiar to her, a need . . . a longing inside her chest. It was a strange emotion.
“Come,” Tyrus snapped. “We cannot stop for long. Other dangers will face us if we stay put.” He started off into the trees and the rest gathered to join him.
Paedrin approached Shion. “That was brave what you did. You didn’t know that its magic wouldn’t harm you.”
Shion shrugged and said nothing in reply. He took Phae by the arm and pulled her with him to join her father. The dead hounds were everywhere, marking the ground of the group’s first victory. But instead of feeling joyful, Phae was sickened by the carnage. Would the Vecses hounds return with their master destroyed?