Time slows as I recognize that it’s Bay—and that she’s coming with every bit of speed and power she possesses. She leaps, fangs bared, her claws slashing. I call to Riot urgently—to fire.
I’m too late and she slams into me. My left arm wrenches against the reins. I rock back, but I don’t fall from the saddle. Bay tumbles off me as Riot kicks, but she isn’t giving up. She slashes with long claws, tearing at Riot’s hindquarters.
Riot roars. He goes ballistic beneath me, his body lighting up with flame. I try to send him all the way to fire, but he’s seized by terror. He doesn’t listen, and Bay won’t let him go. She rips my horse’s thigh open again as he kicks and bites. I feel him buckle beneath me, his legs giving out. I swing at Bay, but I can’t turn enough to reach her. I need the sword in my left hand, but that hand is gone.
I’m about to launch myself onto her when I hear my name shouted.
Across the clearing, Sebastian’s seen Riot and me in trouble. Shadow is in a gallop as Bas spins the scales above his head. He launches them. They fly true, whirling, trailing smoke, and nail their target.
Bay topples to the dirt, kicking and thrashing, the scales looping around her neck. She reaches for them in panic, pawing with her claws, but the scales have twisted and locked.
Released from Bay’s claws, Riot leaps away. He accelerates in powerful thrusts, mindless and wild from the attack. I slip my arm from the twisted reins and throw myself off the saddle. I land, stumbling, staggering, my balance off, my arm flaring with an ache that wants to consume me. I taste blood on my tongue as I push against it. Finding my forting, I walk to Bay.
She’s still writhing on her back as I reach her, but she’s hooked one of her claws under the chain. In seconds she’ll untangle them.
She won’t get the chance.
I toss my sword up to reverse my grip. Frenzied howls break out around me, and her beasts look to me with their soulless eyes. They already know it’s over. I bring my sword down and plunge it into her heart.
Bay shudders and stills, her eyes going flat. Her monsters fall to the earth and scream like their hearts have been skewered, too. In seconds, they’re all silent.
That’s four. Four plus one horde.
We’re at better than fifty percent, but it doesn’t feel like it.
Samrael should count for extra. Ronwae, too.
Ra’om, too. Dragons should count for double.
I look up. Soaring above, Ra’om spews a furious burst of fire. I know he’s seen Bay fall.
Kneeling, I unfasten Bastian’s weapon from Bay’s thick neck. Try to. Harder with one hand. I twist and untwist the links of the scales, trying to get five fingers to do the work of ten. How many things will be harder now? Not the time to think about this.
As I try to unlock the scales again, I sense a shift in the battle’s quality. It’s quieter without the snarl of the grizzly beasts. And there’s no more gunfire. The Army force is out of ammunition. Not a surprise. They couldn’t have anticipated a battle against demon hordes in Wyoming.
I’m not mounted, and it’s made me vulnerable to the scorpions. Marcus and Jode converge on me. I reach down and tug on the chain again, to free the scales. Bastian needs his weapon. They untwist, and I pull hard. They finally slide from beneath Bay’s head, but instead of relief, dread hits me.
If Sebastian needs his weapon, he can just call it back.
Why hasn’t he?
As I lift my gaze and look for him, I see Shadow first, halfway across the field.
She’s rearing and shrieking as several scorpions keep her from reaching Sebastian—Bas, who is on his back, pinned beneath one of Ronwae’s massive claws. Bas is completely immobilized. Even if he called his scales, he couldn’t use them.
Samrael stands over him, watching me like he’s been waiting.
Stillness descends over everything. My vision tunnels. Everything fades except that point in the field: Ronwae pinning Bas. Samrael watching me.
They are a hundred paces away, but every detail is clear. Every sound. The strain on Sebastian’s face at the pressure of the scorpion’s claw. Samrael’s satisfied smile. The quiet rattle of Ronwae’s stinger.
I sense Jode and Marcus dismount and join me.
And Daryn. Daryn comes to my side, her gaze fixed on Sebastian.
Ronwae’s multitudes draw around us, keeping us from moving.
None of us is moving.
Only Ra’om moves—a shadow drifting in the sky above.
Samrael lifts my cuff in the air. “I need the other three, Daryn,” he says. His voice is ruthless. “Unlock them and bring them to me. Or I’ll continue to remove them myself.”
“No.” Daryn shakes her head. “And they won’t help you, Samrael. Even if I brought them to you.”
“Will you help me?” he asks.
Daryn doesn’t answer.
“I think you will,” Samrael says. He turns to Ronwae, and motions with his hand. “Go ahead.”