“Run!” Boojohni screeched, grabbing at my arm. I still clung to the useless sword, unwilling to let it go. Another birdman descended nearby, sinking his talons into Kjell, who, with both hands, swung his sword over his head, sinking the blade into the breast of the winged beast. The birdman shrieked in outrage and tried to fly away, pulling Kjell a foot off the ground before the warrior twisted his blade, and they both landed in a tangle of blood and grey feathers. Kjell rolled out from beneath the dying creature and yanked his sword from its shuddering chest, only to stagger to his feet to fight again.
There were so many. I stumbled forward, still dragging the sword, as Boojohni called out a desperate warning. I spun in fright, gripping the sword in both hands. With momentum and sheer luck, I managed to cut down another Volgar, whose blood was vivid green on an all-too-human chest. He staggered back and crumpled, his wings twitching as he died. I retched at the gaping wound I’d inflicted and mentally begged the horrific creatures to retreat, hating them, but hating the carnage even more.
Fly. Leave, I urged the birdmen that kept coming. Go. Leave now. Live.
I saw a few wing for the sky, as if heeding my pleas.
“Lark!” Boojohni urged, pulling me forward, “Run!”
I threw myself beneath the branches of the evergreen where King Tiras had bade me stay and peered out at the swarming Volgar, at the taloned feet and hands, the sharp horns, the razor-sharp wings sprouting from human trunks. King Tiras and Kjell stood back to back in the midst of it all, swords swinging, a dozen beasts encircling them. Neither hesitated nor faltered, but their clothes were slick with blood, and a dozen fallen guards lay strewn like abandoned poppets at their feet.
We were all going to die.
I resisted the thought, pushing it away, fearful of the very suggestion, and turned the voice outward on the flying horde.
Fly before you die.
Fly before you die.
Fly before you die.
They weren’t listening. I was too afraid. My fear made the words tremble and break before I could release them. I watched as another warrior plummeted to the earth and King Tiras sank his sword knuckle-deep into a Volgar’s belly. Two more took its place before the king could free his sword. One of his guards threw himself in front of the king only to be swept off the ground. I closed my eyes to shut out the terror and the certainty of defeat.
Fly before you die.
Fly before you die.
Fly before you die.
I made the words a roar in my head, filling up the black space behind my closed eyes, making me tremble and my ears pop. I heard Boojohni shouting, but I didn’t open my eyes. I didn’t dare.
Then I couldn’t hear anything but my own thoughts, echoing like I’d fallen down a well and found my voice at last, only to scream for rescue.
Fly before you die. Fly before you die. Fly before you die.
Before you die.
You die.
Die.
Pain bloomed hot and sharp across my face. The words clanging in my skull faltered and broke, leaving a dull ache between my eyes and a metallic taste in my mouth. Boojohni’s beard tickled my nose and his sour breath singed my eyebrows. I turned my head to find fresh air and forced my eyelids open, my hand going to my stinging cheek. Someone had slapped me. Hard.
“She’s awake. She’s awake!” Boojohni chortled, his relief making him giggle. I glowered up at him, noting that night had fallen while the battle raged. Of course I was awake. He helped me sit up and gave me a measure of space. He must have pulled me out from under the evergreen at some point. I swayed, and a hand shot out to steady me. I met the black eyes of King Tiras who was crouched above me. Even in the light of the fat, full moon he was filthy with gore, but he appeared uninjured. The same could not be said for more than half of his men. Bodies of the Volgar were intermingled with the dead and dying members of the king’s guard.
“They’ve gone, Lark!” Boojohni reported. “The beasts have gone. They just suddenly retreated.”
The king rose to his feet and turned away, dismissing me for weightier concerns. Those who were able were piling the bodies of the birdmen and tending to their own wounded and dead. The stench of blood and death clung to my every breath, but I rose to my feet as well, determined to assist where I could.
“We will send men back for the dead,” the king commanded, “but we leave now, while we still can.” His eyes rose to the skies as if expecting the Volgar to return. “They could have killed us all. Their retreat makes no sense.”
“The horses have scattered,” Kjell said in defeat. “And we have wounded who can’t walk.”
I took three steps on shaking legs and tugged at the king’s sleeve. I pointed through the trees.
He raised a black eyebrow. I tried to make my hand resemble a fleeing horse and looked to Boojohni for help.
“Lady Corvyn has a way with animals, Your Majesty,” he offered feebly.
“There are no animals left, Milady,” the King responded wearily. He knelt to check the pulse of a fallen guard. I could have told him the man was dead. His soul had flown, leaving him wordless and lifeless.
I pointed through the trees once more. I felt the fear of the horses and called them back. Horses were easy to sense. Their emotions were like great beacons, glowing in the dark. They’d run in fear, but they’d run in a circle, leaving a loud, red stream of desperation behind them. They weren’t far.
“If Lady Corvyn says the horses went that way, then the horses went that way,” Boojohni said simply. He sniffed the air and winced. “I will be able to get their scent once we put some distance between us and this place.”
“We can’t go anywhere. We can’t leave these men, and we can’t carry them,” Kjell argued.
The king nodded, his eyes on my face.
“Are they close?” he asked.
I nodded. They would be soon. I could feel their thundering hearts slowing as their fear cooled. They wanted to go home. Home. Home. Home.
“Show me,” he insisted quietly and wrapped his hand around my upper arm. Boojohni trotted along behind us, and the king didn’t protest, though Kjell had demanded to come as well and was denied.
“You can’t go off alone, Tiras,” Kjell argued. I’d noticed the familiarity between the two men. Unlike the rest of the guard, Kjell called the king by his given name, and he didn’t hesitate to voice his opinions.
“I won’t be far, Kjell. And we won’t be long. Stand watch.”
We walked in silence, and oddly, though the king gripped my upper arm, keeping me close, he let me lead. I was grateful for his hand; my rubbery legs and my ringing ears made each step treacherous.
I wanted someone to fill in the blanks for me, to tell me how long my eyes had been closed, how many had died while I’d tried to use my words. I wondered if I’d made the Volgar retreat, then felt silly and small at my wistful thought. I’d simply closed my eyes and wished while others fought. Once I’d made a poppet fly, but the Volgar? No. It was impossible.
I stumbled and the king’s grip tightened.
“We don’t have time to wander,” he murmured. His voice wasn’t harsh, but I could feel his impatience, his worry, and his doubt. The doubt made me stumble again.
I stopped and pulled my arm free. His words were too loud, and I couldn’t feel the horses. He released me without protest, and Boojohni raised his little nose to the air and sniffed. He sniffed again and chortled with glee.
“There.” He pointed directly in front of us. I couldn’t see anything, but I heard them. I felt them.
Home. Home. Home.
The king whistled sharply, and his doubt dissipated with an audible pop as a branch snapped and then another, drawing our eyes to the darkest shadows that shifted and changed and became horses, chuffing and picking their way toward us.
“All of them,” the king whispered, counting as the horses neared. Three dozen horses, led by the king’s black stallion, and near the rear, my father’s grey. The grey that had been taken from our stables.
“Shindoh,” the king greeted his mount, and he extended his hand in welcome. The huge charger nuzzled his palm gratefully. Home.
I pulled away from the king and walked to the grey, greeting him with my own hand outstretched. When he whinnied and bumped me with his velvet nose, I looped my arms around his neck and rubbed my cheek against him. Then I turned and found the king watching me. I walked toward him, leading the grey, and when I reached him I thumped my chest.