Page 61 of Lucifer's Mirror
“Obviously,” I reply, continuing to walk.
I slow my pace as we get closer. There’s no sign that anyone at the camp has seen the others coming. I scan the sky. Thanouq is high up, just a dark spot. On the ground, Therion and Khaosti are racing toward the upcoming battle. I presume they’ve made a plan. We trudge up a small rise, and at the top, we’re close enough to see the individual people and differentiate between the guards and the slaves, who are dressed in rags and herded in a line ready to set off.
Zayne puts a hand on my arm. “This is close enough,” he says.
I agree. “Maybe we should get down. You know, so they don’t spot us.”
He nods, and we sink to the sand to peer over the rise.
I hear a distant roar. Thanouq. And then he’s diving for the ground. I can see him getting bigger, heading straight for the center of the mass of people. Therion and Khaosti split up, going in opposite directions around the camp. I know the moment the guards become aware of the imminent attack. I hear a shout, followed by another. They are staring up into the sky now; I don’t think they’ve noticed the other two yet.
Thanouq swoops down, and chaos ensues. Guards and slaves are running in all directions. Thanouq sweeps up a man in his talons and hurls him into a group of guards. Slaves stumble and fall.
Therion rides through the throng, sword swinging.
Where is Khaosti? Then I see him. He’s come around the other side of the camp. He crouches down, then leaps at a running guard, who crashes to the ground, then lies still with his throat torn out. Then another. He slashes with his claws and rips with his teeth.
But there are so many guards. They’re rallying. Maybe they realize that there are only three attackers. Maybe we should go and…
“Don’t even think about it,” Zayne says beside me.
“Think what?”
“You’re tensing up. You’re not going in there. I made a promise, and you are not going anywhere near that fight. Besides, you’ll just be a distraction.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I mutter. But I know he’s right. Hurling myself into the fight won’t help. I don’t even have a sword, never mind know how to use one. “I hate this,” I say. “I feel so useless.”
“I know.” He slips his hand into mine, squeezes, and holds on.
Khaosti is up against three guards, and my mouth floods with saliva. I’m scared—I admit it. I can’t lose him before he’s even mine to lose. Then Thanouq dives into the group, knocking one down, dragging another away, and Khaosti finishes off the last.
I close my eyes for a moment just as a roar of rage fills the air. There are arrows flying. One hits Thanouq in the side, embedding in his golden fur. He rises higher in the sky and hovers out of range.
I try to see where the arrows are coming from. An archer stands behind the cover of a wall.
“Why aren’t the slaves helping?” I mutter, squinting into the chaos. “Why are they just standing there?”
“They’re tied together,” Zayne says. “Not much you can do with your hands tied behind your back and tethered to someone else.”
“Crap.” I hadn’t even noticed. I can see it now. They’re standing so close it’s hard to tell.
“Bastards.”
Thanouq can’t head down; as soon as he gets within range, the archer shoots at him. And without him, Khaosti and Therion are being swamped. They won’t last long.
“We have to help.”
“How? You can’t fight, and I have to look out for you.”
“I can’t fight. But they can.” I wave a hand toward the slaves. “Come on, Zayne. They’re going to die, and the slaves will still be slaves. And it’s complete chaos over there. We can slip in, cut them free, and be out of there before anyone notices us.”
Thanouq dives down, and the sky fills with arrows. He lets out a shrill scream, more eagle than lion, and soars up again. I can hardly see Khaosti—he’s just a flash of black in the chaos. Without waiting for Zayne to answer, I stumble to my feet.
Pain shoots through me, but I ignore it. Somehow my legs move forward when they should be running away. Behind me, Zayne curses, but I hear him follow, and he grabs my arm, pulling me along while keeping low to the ground. But I reckon everyone is far too busy to notice us. I almost trip over the first dead body. Ugh. His throat is ripped out, and he’s staring with sightless eyes. There’s a knife in his outstretched arm, and I pry it from his grip.
Here, the smell of fresh blood fills the air. Not surprising. There’s a lot of it around. As I approach the slave line, they see me coming and back away. I probably look like a crazy woman brandishing a knife.
“We’re here to help,” I say, but they’re beyond listening to reason. Someone crashes into me, and Zayne growls, wrenching the man away. I catch a glimpse of Zayne’s face. Holy shit. Something far from human stares back from his eyes. I have to get him out of here. “Zayne,” I yell into his face, “stay with me. Pull your fucking self together.”
