“It is small!” Abarrane declares with glee.
“We do not want to fight this thing!” I holler, cursing. “Move out of the way.”
But it’s too late. The hag wastes no time, launching itself at Horik, its body contorting unnaturally to avoid his first swinging blade, then his second, the cloth swirling with its movements, disguising its gangling limbs as they swipe through the air.
Horik grunts as its claws rake across his torso, dropping him to his knees.
With a battle cry to challenge any Nulling beast’s, Abarrane leaps at its back, carving her blade through its spindly shoulder before spinning out of its reach.
The hag pivots, searching for its attacker, its teeth snapping at the air in anticipation. It can’t seem to decide which of us to lunge at first.
Without warning, it decides I’m its next target. I move out of range at the last moment, but its claw catches my arm above my gauntlet, biting into my flesh.
I answer with a swift blade strike that slices into its side before it falls back.
Abarrane scowls. “Why doesn’t it make a sound when wounded?”
“I do not think it feels pain like we do.” My fists grip the pommels of my blades. “Draw it away from us.”
Abarrane whistles to catch its attention. She sways from foot to foot, dangling her swords in a taunting manner as she steps backward, enticing it to follow.
It works, the fetid thing creeping forward.
I reach for my affinity, preparing to raze the hag and be done with this deadly charade.
“So it will not feel this?” With a deft tumble and powerful swing of her blades, Abarrane launches another offensive attack.
“Fates!” I yell, frustrated with her bullish nature.
But her blade’s strike lands true, severing the hag’s right leg. It topples to the ground. Tar-black blood sprays through the air as it drags itself away.
Finally … “Stay back, Abarrane!” I launch my affinity at it, engulfing it in flame. A thick plume of smoke rises as its ear-piercing scream ricochets through the otherwise silent night, and the air grows pungent with the smell of decayed flesh alight. Only when its screams die down do I release my hold on the flame.
A charred black heap remains. “That is how you deal with these things,” I snap.
“It is still alive.” Elisaf points to the fingers on one hand. Even now, its nails claw at the dirt.
Abarrane marches over, streaks of its black blood across her forehead. “You ate my hostages.” She stabs her blade into its throat and twists.
Its hand stills.
“And that is how you kill them.”
“That scream will have been heard far and wide.” Elisaf searches the darkness around us. “Possibly by Telor’s men.”
“Then perhaps that will make them think twice about coming any closer to the rift.”
A groan pulls our attention. Horik has propped himself up with his sword, his free arm wrapped against his stomach. A gaping wound threatens to spill his insides.
Abarrane is at his side in an instant. “On your feet, warrior,” she commands, but worry laces her voice.
“Have I told you how much I hate these mountains.” Elisaf fits his shoulders under Horik’s arm to help him walk.
I smirk. “Once or twice.” I scan the trees, sensing eyes but unable to find their source. I could set fire to the perimeter and hope to catch whatever it is within the flames, but I decide against it. Horik needs immediate attention from Gesine and, besides, nothing good waits for us out here.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ROMERIA
Zander grimaces at the angry purple mark on my biceps, earned during one of Jarek’s robust training sessions. “Why can’t you heal yourself?”
“I tried, but it doesn’t work like that.” I hold up my arm in front of me to study my bruises, the silky white canopy over our bed providing an airy backdrop. The matching sheets have been pushed aside, leaving our bare skin to the warm night air flowing through the open windows. “Wouldn’t that be nice, though?”
“Then Gesine should have healed it for you.”
“It’s nothing, and she’s been a little busy putting Horik’s guts back together.” The gouge across his abdomen from the hag was so deep, I could see his intestines. He was pale when they dragged him in, and it took Gesine an hour to fix it and half a day to recover afterward.
I was no help either, too busy heaving from the gory sight. It seems I’m nowhere near proficient enough with my affinities to heal someone unless I have a two-headed beast hovering behind me.