Page 55 of Bloodwitch

“You might lie to yourself,” she said at last, voice smooth as a scythe and twice as sharp. “But you cannot lie to me.”

Then she turned away, and the soldiers arrived. They burst in from the back entrance, bellowing and drawing swords, pistols. Owl screamed, and Iseult swept onto the gelding.

Aeduan charged the soldiers. Eight of them. No time for magic, no time for anything but brute force and speed. He unsheathed his sword. He would hold the men off long enough for Iseult and Owl to—

The stable exploded. Wood crunched, the floor lurched. Dust and splinters rained down. The roof above was torn apart. Then fangs and fury crashed inside. Aeduan barely had time to dive away before Blueberry slammed to the earth. His wings spread wide.

Aeduan did not think, he simply ran. Wood fell around him. Horses plowed from their stalls, the latches rising one by one—as if an Earthwitch pulled the iron from afar. He passed four soldiers, men who had come in from the front. Men who now wanted to leave.

One by one, though, claws grabbed and screams ripped out.

Then Aeduan was to the stable yard, the cool air rushing over him. Horses and humans crowded for the exit. And there, galloping past the tree, its bark stark against the night sky, were Iseult and Owl.

Aeduan did not watch them go. Instead, he flipped his cloak inside out, since soldiers would now be looking for a monk, and he set off in the opposite direction. Away from the inn, away from Tirla, and away from the lamb he had never wanted to kill.

TWENTY-THREE

The Adder shroud fell from Safi’s fingers. She had been here before, watching as a flame hawk plummeted from the sky. As the heat roared closer and fire consumed all sight. This time, though, there was no Caden to save her, no Hell-Bard magic to cancel out the power of magicked flames.

Rokesh and the other Adders charged into tight formation around Safi and Vaness. Then everyone vaulted for the path. As they ran, Vaness flung her arms toward the sky. The folded tent whooshed by, and the hawk’s screeching cry told Safi the tent had hit its mark.

They reached the path and descending steps right as Marstoki soldiers tumbled out from the forest, blades drawn to battle the hawk…

Except their uniforms were already streaked in blood and death.False, false, false!

“Ambush!” Safi screamed at the same moment the nearest soldier raised his sword for an attack.

Rokesh swirled in. The soldier’s blade nicked his shoulder—but not before he thrust his own into the man’s heart.

One by one, the Adders clashed against the false soldiers, formation strong. Safi and Vaness protected. Fire still crushed in from behind, though. A hurricane of heat borne on seething, magical wings.

“I cannot control the blades!” Vaness shrieked over the battle. “They are not made of iron!”

Shit, shit. This ambush was targeted and thoroughly planned—and now the false soldiers were too many to stop. An Adder to Safi’s left was torn away from the formation. Then an Adder just behind.

Worse, the flame hawk had arrived.

Rokesh dove for Vaness. Safi dove for the trees. Rusty trunks and green uniforms blurred at the edges of her vision. No soldiers attacked, though. Everyone was too busy running.

Then sparks rained down. Branches ignited. And ten paces to Safi’s left, the hawk swooped by. A streak of orange that razed entire cedars to ash—and entire soldiers too. Their final cries rattled in Safi’s skull, somehow louder than the flames. Somehow louder than the creature hurtling by.

Safi vaulted faster. She cut, she spun, shemovedwherever her feet would carry her. Still, no one attacked as she sprinted by. They were too occupied by the flame hawk, already blasting in again.

Yet something flickered in the farthest corner of Safi’s brain. Something that said,You’re missing part of the puzzle here.No time to consider, though. Only time to run.

She reached a fallen cedar, its branches aflame. A wall of smoke and heat she couldn’t see beyond.

She jumped. She tripped, hands flying forward.

She landed on a dead man. Not just one, but a hundred. A wholepileof corpses waiting for the flames to consume them. Freshly dead, blood still sticky, and with only their smallclothes and weapons left to them.

Metal weapons. These were the real soldiers.

Safi yelped. Then tried to rise, to scrabble desperately back to her feet. But the blood was slick against dead skin.

Flames and smoke choked in, along with flame hawk screams. False soldiers raced past, clearing the burning tree as Safi had and fleeing the flame hawk.No time, no time.Safi scrambled to her feet. Her bad ankle twisted, a distant pain she knew she would regret later. Assuming there was an actuallater.

She swung her arms high and joined the racing soldiers—except she opted to run an entirely different direction. If she followed them, they would all eventually reach the sandstone wall and be trapped. If she wanted to escape, she would have to circle around.