“And we have played into their intentions,” Kiranrao snarled. He wheeled back to face the pursuers. “They can’t come at us from behind. Are we going to hold our ground here or use the Tay al-Ard?”
Annon felt something brush against his boots under the water. He took a wary step backward and used the Vaettir words to summon fire. His fingers glowed, spreading a cone of blue light over the dark waters. The pond was full of ugly black fish, their mouths puckering as their faces emerged from the waters, sucking the air. Little appendages of flesh stuck out from the mouths, and he saw many of them coiling around his legs, the faces coming out of the water to gasp on the air. The sight revolted him.
“There’s some sort of fish in the wat—” he said as a huge, catlike beast landed on his back, shoving him face-first into the muck. He felt the claws digging into his muscles and he screamed soundlessly in the water in pain and shock.
“The trees!” Paedrin shouted, sucking in his breath and vaulting upward with the Sword of Winds. He could not see the Weir with his natural eyes, but he could see them with his blind vision and stabbed the first one he encountered right in the heart. The blade sliced through fur, skin, muscle, and bone, impaling the monstrous cat. He felt the shuddering weight of the creature as it slid backward off the branch and fell with a crash onto the ground.
Many more were slinking in the trees, maneuvering through the twisted limbs with grace and agility. One launched itself at him and Paedrin used the blade to go higher so that it fell short and also landed on the ground. But it was not disabled and struck at Baylen with a vicious scream.
Paedrin felt his blood respond to the noise and he wanted to fight. He wanted to avenge the death of Aboujaoude. He heard the ping of arrows and watched Hettie stick several into a single Weir, but the arrows did nothing to injure them. The creature vaulted at her and she managed to duck low so that it sailed over her head. Instantly fire streamed from her fingers, ripping into the creature’s hide and turning it into ash.
The commotion of the battle stretched all along the edge of the pond. Snarls and ripping claws came in a rockslide of fury, the Weir bounding into the fray with supple grace and fluid motions. Paedrin dropped down from above, stopping one with his sword, but another ripped into his side with its claws, opening up ribbons of flesh that stung and burned with heat.
He yanked the blade free from the carcass and whirled around, catching its throat before it could sink its teeth into his arm.
One landed on Hettie and she blasted it in the face with the fireblood, engulfing its entire head. He saw her face wrinkle in pain as its hind legs clawed her legs. Paedrin sliced it open just before the magic of her fire consumed it into ash.
He reached down and pulled her to her feet, seeing her pants stained with blood.
“Hettie!” he gasped in concern.
“Behind you!” she cried.
Paedrin whirled as two confronted him, their yellowish eyes locked in a feral rage. Baylen severed one of them in half with his huge broadsword. Then he went down on one knee and upthrust with the other sword, catching the second Weir in the middle and lifting it up off the ground before slamming its body back down. The look of rage in the Cruithne’s eyes was more terrifying than the Weirs.
Everyone was fighting, struggling to keep from being shoved into the pond. Paedrin used his blind vision to search out everyone quickly, trying to sort through the gyrations and movements. The attackers came at them relentlessly. How many? He could see them mounting like waves, coming in ring after ring.
Where was Tyrus?
Annon was drowning in the brackish water. His back seized up with pain as he felt the claws raking him over. Desperately, he lifted his head to breathe air but could only inhale another gulp of swamp water. His panic reflexes were working and he thrashed, drenched to the bone, as he shoved himself up on his knees, heaving the heavy beast upward. His ears were ringing from the water-muffled screams and he realized Nizeera was fighting the Weir savagely. He had the weight of both cats on him and felt his muscles give. He splashed down in the pond again. The strange gasping fish were all around him and he felt burning pain as their suction-like mouths attacked his face.
The Weir toppled and fell over, and Annon was able to rise at last. He sat up in the water, grabbing the slimy bodies and yanking them off. Little teeth had attached to his skin, which he felt shred as he wrenched the fish away. His lungs were still full of water and he coughed and hacked, trying to expel it all. He doubled over and vomited violently.
Nizeera screamed, standing behind him, facing off against two Weirs who stalked him. He turned and saw them, their glassy pelts shimmering in and out of sight.