This wasn’t right. How were the golden eagles here? Their territory was the mountains and plains, where pickings were easy, and their movements unhampered by the giant vegetation of the forest.
Shea watched as one of the eagles tried to lift off and had to drop its prey when it couldn’t extend its wings because of trees hemming it in on either side. The person it dropped crawled toward an upraised tree root as the bird hopped awkwardly after him. Its talons carved deep grooves in the wood.
“Attack its wings,” Fallon ordered Caden. “Don’t let it back into the air.”
Caden let out a roar. The Anateri followed him. Some held spears and others bows and arrows. They circled the bird and worked on bringing it down while it mantled its wings at them and gave a screech of warning.
Shea grabbed Fallon’s arm before he could run to help. “Its eyesight is incredibly sharp. It can spot prey from a mile away. Don’t let it back in the air. It can be out of the range of your weapons in seconds and dive on you before you can blink. Stay close to the trees as much as possible. It’ll make it harder to maneuver there.”
Fallon nodded. He brushed her cheek with a gentle touch and then was gone.
A hand fell on Shea’s arm. Trenton’s expression was grave. “We need to go.”
Shea nodded. Yes, they did. The second one would come back for its mate.
As she stood, she glanced back at the forest and paused. A figure stood in its shadows. She could have sworn she recognized him. His shape was familiar, the way he carried himself. Though the distance made her second guess herself. There was no way it could be him. He was dead. Had been since their trip into the Badlands.
An eagle screamed, just as it dived into the camp. The Trateri split, some racing to meet the coming danger while the young and non-warriors raced to find shelter. Shea followed along, knowing that she’d just get in the way. She wasn’t trained for combat and had not trained to be part of a team.
She ran beside Trenton, trying not to get swept along with the press of humanity.
There was a war cry above her and a villager from Airabel flung a spear at one of the eagles. Another leapt through the air, freefalling until he landed on the back of an eagle, taking a knife to the beast’s neck until blood dotted its feathers.
The eagles were swarming. Shea had only seen the like one other time in her life. The Badlands. This scene was as bad as any she fought there. Terror was a wild beast in her chest.
Another eagle dived, while its companion fought off the man from Airabel. This time there was no scream as it rose, blond curls draped over its talons.
“Mist! Trenton, it has Mist.” Shea pointed at the eagle that struggled to flap its way to safety. It turned as villagers shot a hail of arrows at it.
Trenton looked up and cursed. “Shea, wait.”
Shea didn’t wait. She ran along the ground keeping the eagle in sight as it careened through the forest, its wings too big. They brushed the sides of the trees as it fought to rise.
Shea found a ladder leading into the trees and started to climb. One hand over the other as fast as she could. Reaching a rope bridge above, she pulled herself up and ran along it, shadowing the eagle below.
She leapt into empty space when she ran out of bridge and barely landed on another tree’s oversized branch. They were in the mid canopy. The branches weren’t as tightly woven as they were in the world above. She had to pay attention to where she placed her feet. It would be easy to fall here.
The eagle flapped as it fought through the dense forest and gave a battle cry as Trateri soldiers forced it back. Shea turned, following a branch.
There. That was her chance.
She leapt, grabbing a hanging vine and swinging out into air. She let go and fell, her heart in her throat and utterly focused as the eagle grew in size beneath her. She landed on its back, sliding down until her hands managed to grip tight onto its feathers.
The wings flapped, hitting her on the side of the face. She bit her tongue but held on.
Mist whimpered from where she was clutched in the beast’s claws.
Shea clung to the bird. She hadn’t thought this plan through before she implemented it. Impulsiveness was really going to get her killed one day.
She couldn’t kill the beast with Mist clutched in its claws. It would mostly likely result in Mist’s death as well as Shea’s when they all went crashing to the ground.
Shea waited, drawing the dagger she’d grabbed when the beasts first attacked. She’d need to time this very carefully.
An eagle could open and close its claws at will. Right now, it held Mist lightly enough that the girl hadn’t been killed. Probably because the eagle wanted its prey alive for whatever reason.
Shea waited until they were over a soft-looking copse of tangled branches and vines, interwoven, thin and flexible enough that they might slow Mist’s fall but not be as hard as the ground.
Shea struck, sinking her blade into the eagle’s side again and again. The beast thrashed beneath her. There was a short gasp of breath as it released the girl. Shea buried her blade one last time before pushing off.
Her freefall was cut short as she crashed into the branches, lacerations forming where her skin dragged along the sharp wood. She fell through the first layer, each branch flipping her a different way as they broke under her. She came to a stop, hanging upside down, her leg caught between two branches.
That was such a bad idea. On the scale of bad ideas, it was probably one that would go into the history books.
Shea groaned. Every bone in her body felt that fall. “Let’s never do that again.”
There was a rustling in the branches next to her and then blond curls coupled with watery blue eyes peered out at Shea.
“Hey, sweetie. Are you hurt anywhere?”
Mist shook her head.
Shea closed her eyes. “That’s good.”
“Shea! Shea, where are you? Answer me.” Trenton’s voice came from below. He sounded frantic.
“Here, we’re over here!” Shea yelled back.
Curses sounded from below them and then the sound of a man grunting and hacking at the branches they were incased in.
They’d landed in a copse of boughs that grew tightly together with very little space between. It looked like a prison made of very thin wood.
Shea used her abs to lift up, grabbing a branch near her foot with one hand to redistribute her weight as she wiggled her foot free. There would be no living it down, if Trenton discovered her stuck upside down. She yanked her foot once more and then fell, landing hard on her back. A sword cut through some of the boughs next to her.
Trenton peered in, taking note of Shea sprawled on her back and Mist above her.
“Help Mist, first,” Shea ordered.
He didn’t argue, turning his attention to the little girl. “Come here, child. Let’s get you to safety.”
“It’s probably safest here,” Shea said, sitting up with a grimace.
“The soldiers drove off the eagles they didn’t manage to kill. It should be safe for now.”
That was a relief.