Corwin peered up at her. “Kate,” he said in a voice weak as a kitten’s mewling.
She started to dismount, but stopped as movement off to her right caught her eye. She turned to see a black beast, about a hundred yards away, charging toward her at full speed. In an instant she knew it was a drake, despite the color. Its movement was unmistakable, powerful like a charging bull, but also sinuous like a cat. Even more unmistakable was the sound that issued out of its opened, snarling mouth. Impossibly, the daylight did not affect it, as if those black scales were sun-block armor shielding the nightdrake beneath.
Nightdrakes who do not fear the sun.
Daydrakes.
A shudder passed through Kate’s body even as panic seized Darby’s mind. The horse reared back on its haunches, ready to spin and flee. Kate wrestled for control, forcing Darby to remain still. Then she dropped the reins and grabbed her bow off the saddle. Reaching for an enchanted arrow from the quiver on her back, she quickly nocked it, the magical tip dazzling her eyes.
She inhaled deep, willing her nerves to calm, her focus to center. Then she exhaled and released the bowstring. There was a sharp twang as the arrow launched forward, the tail wavering for a second before straightening out. Her aim was a little off, as it always was on the first shot. Still, the arrow struck the daydrake in the shoulder, the enchanted tip penetrating the hardened scales and sinking deep. At least these new beasts weren’t immune to magic, as they appeared to be to the sun.
But the daydrake didn’t even break stride. She pulled another arrow from the quiver, nocked it, and released. Again, her aim was off, but it didn’t miss—this one sinking into the beast’s chest a few inches below its long neck. Still the daydrake didn’t slow.
Darby pranced sideways, but Kate stayed centered in the saddle, her legs working as anchors. Breathe, focus, aim. Instinct and training took over. She pulled the third arrow free and launched it. This time it found its mark in the creature’s jugular. The daydrake’s nostrils flared and its wail turned from threat to pain. She loosed the fourth arrow, striking the neck again. The creature continued its charge—pain now becoming rage.
The fifth arrow struck the same, a third shaft protruding from its neck. One arrow left. The creature was slowing, but it wouldn’t fall in time. Not without a killing blow. It was close enough now that she could smell the scorched stench of the air around it.
She pulled the last enchanted arrow from the quiver and nocked it. Inhaling, she centered her aim over the arrow, willing the shot to be true. Darby’s panic pressed against Kate’s control. Distantly she heard Corwin calling for her to flee. If she failed to kill this creature now, they would both die.
She pulled the bowstring as taut as her reach would allow. Then she let it go. The arrow flew hard and true, sinking six inches deep into the daydrake’s eye socket. The creature loped forward two more strides, then stumbled, going down on its knees. The hind legs rose up over its head and it flipped, landing in a broken heap less than a yard from Darby.
The horse snorted and began to back away. Kate let him, her breath coming in frantic gasps now that the threat was over.
She’d done it, survived her first nightdrake attack. And during the day. She—
The thought stopped dead in her mind as the sound of more wailing reached her ears. Kate jerked her head to the right to see three more daydrakes bearing down on her.
Three drakes, and she was out of enchanted arrows.
7
Kate
THERE WASN’T TIME TO THINK, only react. Kate drew another arrow, this one without an enchanted tip. Aiming again, it flew true, better than all the ones before, but to no avail. The moment the tip struck the daydrake’s hide, it glanced off, as harmless as a pebble tossed at a boulder.
Hissing between her teeth, Kate dropped the bow and reached for the sword sitting in its harness by her left leg. She had it halfway free of the sheath when she remembered Bonner’s revolver. There was no time to worry if it would jam or not. Kate plunged her hand into the saddlebag and yanked it out.
Aiming at the nearest drake, she pulled back the hammer with her thumb, then pressed the trigger. The bullet struck the drake square in the head, felling it at once. She pulled the hammer again, aimed for the second drake, and pulled the trigger. The first bullet went wide, but she fired again a second later, and this one hit it in the throat.
With another bullet already in the chamber, she fired a fourth time, and a fifth. The second daydrake went down. She aimed for the third, but Darby reared up, breaking free of her hold on his mind. By the time the horse fell back onto all fours again, the daydrake had reached them. The creature leaped from a crouched position, soaring so high that for a moment it looked like it was really flying, its membranous wings extended out around it like a ghastly cloak. The beast struck her, wrenching her out of the saddle.
She landed hard on her back, her head smacking the ground. But somehow she’d managed to hold on to the gun. The creature’s weight crushed against her legs and torso, and its claws raked the ground beside her as it fought to get at her. She pulled back the hammer, struggling to point the barrel toward that jaw opening before her. Jagged teeth glistening with venom filled her vision. Its foul breath burned her nose and throat. With shaking hands, Kate pulled the trigger. Fire burst out from the end of the gun, the noise so deafening she felt that someone was using the inside of her skull for a bell.
But the bullet flew true, crashing into the creature’s mouth, through its brain, and out the back of its head. Death came instantly. It fell onto her, pinning her to the ground.
Kate gasped, desperate for breath as the daydrake’s weight crushed the air from her lungs. Dropping the revolver, she reached up and tried to push the drake off her. Blood, sticky and hot, flowed over her hands and down her arms from the hole in the creature’s head. She pushed and pushed, teeth gritted with the effort. She was barely aware of the tears sliding over her cheeks. It was no good. She wasn’t strong enough to free herself from such a weight.
Kate heard Corwin call her name again, but she ignored him, craning her head to find Darby. She spotted the horse in a flat-out run, heading away from the death and terror.
“Stop!” Kate screamed at him, putting all the force of her mind and magic behind it. For a second she thought the distance too far, but then Darby stumbled to a halt. His nostrils flared as he snorted in protest of her command, the opposite of what his instincts demanded.
Come back here, Kate thought, projecting the image of what she wanted. I am your herd. Stay with me. Hesitantly, the horse obeyed. He returned slowly, cautiously, upset by being forced closer to the thing that had nearly killed him.
Kate fought hard to keep the horse under her spell, her magic wrapped tight around his glowing center as she bent his will. Her head spun from the effort, the dizziness made worse from the struggle for each breath. Finally, the horse reached her. She willed him to lower his head so she could grab the reins and pull them over his neck. Sweat darkened the horse’s brown coat to black, and he trembled with every movement.
“Easy, boy.” Kate ran her hand over his nose. “Now come on, and pull me out of here.” She sent the image, guiding him with her magic. Eager at any chance to put more distance between himself and the daydrake, Darby began to back up. It didn’t matter that the drake was dead, only that it was still here, fouling the air with its stench.
When the reins grew taut, Darby paused at the uncomfortable pressure of the bridle against his poll. He pinned his ears and stomped a foreleg.