Shadow Wings (Darkest Drae #2)

I pressed forward, determined not to let my fear dictate my actions.

The narrow valley was rocky with little visible vegetation. We flew through the mountains, scanning for evidence of habitation.

There are enough down there to take out a small army. Mistress moons, Tyrrik! They’re focused on that next range. Look, the ones at the front are running. A shiver ran down the long length of my spine. They’ve found her.

Both of us pumped our wings and flattened our necks, streamlining our bodies to gain speed. I narrowed my eyes to try and see through the smoke. Failing that, I tuned in my ears. The thump-thump of heavy boots on the packed ground and crackling of the blaze below overrode everything else.

She’s over the other side, Tyrrik said. All the way through the pass.

How can you tell?

I’ve had longer to practice my fine tuning. She just gasped, and even though she’s running, her step is light. I can’t see her though.

We swept over the next range, and I furiously scanned the area. The smoke was slowly funneling through the pass, but the air was still fairly clear on this side.

A small scraggly thicket of trees with a narrow stream on one side took up most of the valley; the gray cedars butted up against the rocky slope. A golden web was visible in the trees, and a wisp of movement was all that gave away the Phaetyn’s location.

Even with her hiding and using her ancestral powers, the Druman were nearly upon her. The Phaetyn was so small in comparison to the muscled frames of the emperor’s mules. They surged through the pass and spilled into the valley. The distance separating the two enemy species shrunk, and trepidation crawled through my Drae.

Tyrrik swore, already descending. We’ll not get her out without a fight, Ryn. I’m going down—

Tyrrik, no! There’s too many of them.

I’ll hold them off. You can do this. Get in, pick up the Phaetyn, and get out. It’s the only way, Princess. If you want to save her, we’ll need to do it this way.

He was right. We had only seconds before the Druman caught up with her, a minute at most. He was right, but . . . Can you fight that many? I could come down with you. I—

Not yet, he said, continuing his descent. Promise me you won’t come down until it’s possible to get away with her safely.

For a moment all I could process was Tyrrik’s panic. I stared at the ground, revulsion’s sour taste on the back of my tongue and burning the back of my throat. There had to be close to one hundred Druman down there, and Tyrrik was going to fight them.

He flattened himself, angling his body almost vertically above the front line of Druman.

Promise me, he pressed, still thinking more of me than the foe he was about to fight. I won’t be able to concentrate if you’re down there.

I could feel the truth of his words through our bond, but I hesitated, realizing what that promise might mean.

Could I really stay up here if the tide turned against Tyrrik?





36





He was nearly upon them. Please, stay up there, Princess. Be my eyes. Promise me.

I beat my wings, neck twisting frantically. He’d asked, no begged, for my word three times, and I was desperate to calm him before he started fighting. I promise, I threw at him, the words registering only after I’d said them. I hurried to add, but please, promise me you’ll stay alive.

He didn’t answer as he let out an almighty roar. He pulled his front half up as he landed in the valley with a deep boom that echoed through the range. Without pause, he ripped through the front line of Druman with his talons, severing several bodies in half and fatally wounding many more. Blood spilled over the rocky terrain, and Tyrrik advanced.

One Druman flung himself at Tyrrik, at my mate, and I instinctively screamed in fury. The ease with which Tyrrik batted the Druman away did nothing to settle my panic. There was the better part of a hundred Druman down there, and they had swarmed into the valley.

My mind went crazy as I watched. Tyrrik may be a near invincible Drae, but he could be overrun, he could be hurt badly enough to weaken him. He could be taken, imprisoned, tortured, and killed. My thoughts made me sick. The emperor surely had access to Phaetyn blood.

Tyrrik still had weaknesses.

He stamped below me and inhaled. Molten red appeared between the scales in his chest a scant moment before he extended his neck and spewed jets of flame through the small valley toward the pass. The fire licked the trees, and the crackle of its frenzied appetite sizzled in the air. Warmth billowed up, caressing my underbelly. Only the Druman nearest Tyrrik were caught by the flames, and while their screams of agony were short lived, the emperor’s Druman had clearly expected the fire. Many of them scaled the rock walls, dodging the flames altogether. These crossbreeds were fast like Jotun had been, faster for having the emperor’s lineage.

Tyrrik kept up the fire for at least a minute but only caught another dozen or so Druman. Flames devoured the dry grass, and the fire jumped from tree to tree. I studied the tendrils between us, relieved when the strength of black in the strands of our bond still appeared as strong as ever.

Tyrrik.

I’m okay, Ryn. Where’s the Phaetyn?

I’d been so caught up with what was happening with Tyrrik I’d completely forgotten about her. I drifted lower and found her at the far end of the valley, about to begin climbing the next range. Four Druman had slipped passed Tyrrik and were bearing down on her again. She’s got four Druman on her tail.

Please, stay up there.

Why was he saying please? The word added desperation to his request that made my skin crawl, and I couldn’t help glancing back. Tyrrik raked his talons clean through another cluster of the monsters. My tail twitched as two launched onto his back and turned to catch ropes.

Mistress Moons. They intended to capture him.

Tyrrik bucked and twisted free. He caught one of the Druman in his mouth, biting him in half and spitting the severed body at another one. He stomped on several more before unleashing another stream of liquid flame.

I drifted lower, tearing my eyes away to line up the Phaetyn below.

Do not land yet.

His request came too late; I’d already made up my mind. There are only four going after her. I’ll just go low enough to swipe her up.

Ryn, let me clear them away. Don’t come down yet.

I closed my ears to the apprehension in his voice, making no effort to change my descent. Would the seventy Druman on his other side wait patiently while he dealt with these four? He was being irrational. Tyrrik, there’s no time.

I angled farther down, shooting like a lightning bolt toward the small party of Druman.

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