An arrow whizzed past her head, and then another. She ducked and reached for her shield attached to Morte’s side, holding it above her head for protection. Morte spun around, trying to avoid the arrows that suddenly were raining down all around them. One pierced his ear and he let out a loud scream before plunging his front hoof into the chin of a Yurkei warrior. The warrior slumped against it, his bright blue eyes open in confusion as Morte tried to shake him off.
A Heart Card tried to grab Dinah’s leg and pull her off Morte. Dinah kicked him twice in the mouth, knocking out a few teeth before he fell away. From the corner of her eye, she saw a Club stalking toward her, his uniform peppered with medals, an ax held aloft in his hand, his eyes only on Dinah. Morte let out a scream and reared back. When he lifted his feet off the ground, Dinah drew her sword. It slid from her sheath, and she relished its weight in her hand. She felt alive, each pore and vein flooded with an ecstasy she had never known. She felt immortal, powerful, and rash. She would bring death upon these men.
Morte landed hard, jostling the saddle loose as the ground around him shuddered. The Club with the ax was almost upon them. Dinah pulled Morte back, barely escaping the edge of the Card’s weapon as he swung forward. Morte spun and knocked the man sideways with his flank, and before he could rise, Dinah shoved her sword deep into the Club’s throat, the tip of the blade poking out from the back of his neck. He looked up at her in shock, and Dinah’s eyes took in his surprised face. He slumped forward against her steed. Dinah pulled her sword, slick with blood, from his body before kicking his still form to the side. She smiled winsomely, and then turned to kill another.
Pushing toward the gate, Morte brought his hooves down onto two Diamond Cards who silently appeared before him, but not before one of them buried his dagger deep in Morte’s shoulder. Morte didn’t seem to notice, even as Dinah yanked the dagger out of him. She sent it deep into the eye of a young Heart Card who ran toward her with his sword drawn. He fell facedown in a rush of dark blood.
An arrow struck the breastplate just above her heart with a loud thunk, and Dinah looked up to see two archers running toward her. There was nowhere to hide, and she struggled to turn Morte away from them. They nocked arrows into their bows and Dinah raised her shield, afraid but unwavering, waiting for the pain to begin.
As an elaborate dance of men and blood swirled around them, Yur-Jee appeared next to her, sank to his knees, and fired two arrows from his pale bow. The approaching archers fell in perfect symmetry, arrows through their necks. Before Yur-Jee could turn away, a Heart Card ran up behind him and, smiling widely, slit his throat. Dinah screamed in horror as Yur-Jee struggled to breathe and then left this world behind, his bright blue eyes dulling to gray as he stared at the sky.
The Heart Card smiled at Dinah before lunging toward her. Dinah clipped his ear off with her sword. Morte crushed his body under the weight of his hooves, the man’s torso caving in like a dropped melon.
A wide circle cleared around Morte. In those few seconds, Dinah was able to assess what was happening: her forces were pushing the king’s Cards back toward the iron gates, where they were being massacred in large numbers by the Yurkei warriors.
Loud screams erupted to her right, and Dinah turned to see several of her men running, their limbs engulfed in black flame. The king’s archers were unleashing burning sticks of nightpowder, the flames that blazed without smoke. The screams of the burning men echoed over the battlefield. Dinah was about to turn Morte in that direction when, without warning, hundreds of the remaining cranes descended on the archers, pulling them up and over the turrets, dropping them onto the ground below.
Dinah wiped the sweat from her eyes as Morte darted forward into a bunch of Cards. She brought down her sword on heads, on arms, and on hands. She lost track of time. In the moment, it was impossible to tell who was winning, and many times Dinah caught herself almost attacking one of her Spades. It was the chaos of war, the sides gradually blending together. It was terrible and wonderful, the fear of death and the rush of power equally tingling through her system after she pulled her sword from body after body.
Dinah raised herself from the saddle, just enough to see her position. The Yurkei were moving swiftly through the crowd, and she spotted a large group of bloodied Spades pushing their way through the opening that Morte had cleared to the gates, protected by battered shields on every side.
She saw men and boys dying around her, the pleas of mercy falling on deaf ears. Some were shown it, others were not. What had her wrath wrought? She continued to push Morte toward the gate.
A large Club Card emerged from under the slumped bodies of two Yurkei beside her, catching Morte off guard. He violently lurched sideways into the man, but the Club, unnaturally tall, swung his weapon square into her torso, catching Dinah in the stomach and breastplate. Before she had time to react, she was hurled backward off Morte. It was a long fall to the ground. She landed heavily on her hip, and the armor that was supposed to protect her pushed all the air from her lungs. Her sword spun away.
She could feel blood leaking out of her side. Was she cut? Impaled? Her heavy feather cape swirled around her, the blood that dotted the feathers now included some of her own. She gasped for breath, once, twice, but couldn’t get air.
Move! she told herself, crawling toward her sword. Move! Morte’s hooves were coming down all around her, and for a moment she feared only him as she lay in the dirt, hands over her head.
Unaware Dinah was gone in the midst of his battle fervor, Morte whirled and galloped in the direction of a group of particularly nasty Diamond Cards who were sending daggers through every Yurkei that came their way. When he barreled through them, their screams vibrated in her ears. Crawling through the bloody mud, Dinah reached her sword and lifted it just in time to impale a wounded Heart Card, his sword raised to strike her. His weight swallowed the sword through his body as he fell, and Dinah struggled to pull it free from his rib cage.
Without warning, a chain-mail glove caught her on the temple, and Dinah fell sideways, away from her weapon. Her ears rang as she struggled to stay conscious. She blinked twice before pushing up to her knees, her hand reaching for the dagger in her boot. The man was on her at once. They scrambled on the ground, his sweaty face pressed up against hers, his hands tangled in her hair and her crown. Her eyes widened when his face came into focus. It was Yoous, the giant Club who had escorted them through the Black Towers.