Memphis snapped down their mental connection. “What are you?” He was now pinned under the monster, the creature’s saliva coating his face, filling his nostrils, dripping into the back of his throat.
“We are the dabarne and have been long forgotten with the age of dark magic until the acclaimed king promised us freedom. One where we could hunt freely. If we started with you.” All he felt was the creature’s dark joy as the dabarne pushed his giant paws into his chest, lowering his teeth, snapping and vicious—
There was a flash of golden fur and immense relief as the monster was ripped free from his chest, leaving him wheezing, his lungs burning. Brokk flipped it on its back, the dabarne screeching, withering under his friend’s pin. And then silence. Brokk bared his teeth at the lifeless form before loping back to him. His giant muzzle nudged his shoulders, and he could practically hear what he was saying. He had to move. He felt the slipperiness of his blood-soaked back, his energy draining with his movement. The chaos of the fight reigned around them, swords meeting flesh, bodies being lost in the darkness of the night. Memphis heard men crying, their wails, their pleas for mercy. He could taste their innermost thoughts as they died.
Gulping deep breaths, he shakily gripped Brokk’s heaving side, hauling himself onto his friend’s back. Brokk didn’t delay. He shot forward as Memphis gripped his fur. Memphis just took in snippets of what was happening around them, as if his mind couldn’t process it fast enough. His panic was in full bloom, choking him, making his world spin. His ability roaring around him as he absorbed the carnage, absorbed the monsters’ rage, and he swooped in and destroyed their sanities. Each dip into their consciousness resonated within him, and he realized that the dabarnes were all thinking in unison, as if their minds were linked. Memphis broke through another iron wall. We work for the acclaimed king. And another. We asked the darkness and were shown that you were coming. And another. We know you are coming to kill him. And another. So, we will kill you first.
His mind reeled as Brokk twisted, almost throwing him off as they avoided a roaring dabarne. Cesan had used these dark creatures to flush them out. It wasn’t a rouse for Cesan at all. It was a trap for them. He searched in the night for anyone they recognized. The air rippled with slithering bodies and glowing eyes. Tadeas. Iasan. They were nowhere to be seen.
“Memphis! Brokk!” Alby charged toward them, covered in blackened blood that wasn’t his as he ran full tilt toward them. The tents around him crashed to the ground as the dabarne that was hunting him roared, charging forward. Their friend flickered between visible and invisible as he sprinted through the destruction. His weapon had been discarded as he hurled forward.
Brokk growled as they plummeted, but they were across the camp—they wouldn’t make it in time. Brokk pushed faster, but he knew he couldn’t carry him and run at his full potential. Do something. Anything. The world tilted and he prepared to shift his weight, throwing himself onto the ground so Brokk could make it there. He felt the ripple through the air, like a charged electric shock.
There was the pounding of hooves then a blinding white light as Nei Fae suddenly appeared. She galloped into the heart of the fight. The light beamed from her palm, radiating. Her pale hair was tied back and she sported several fresh cuts and bruises, but she pushed her horse right in front of the dabarne fearlessly as she snarled. “You cannot have them.” She met Alby’s outreached hand and hauled him onto the saddle. Tears slid down his bloodied cheeks, and Nei pushed her horse out of the way just as the monster slashed forward, teeth and claws snapping at the empty space.
Brokk skittered to a halt as Nei yelled, “Sarthaven is already lost! We must go! Now!” Sarthaven has fallen. The capital of Kiero. Memphis’s blood pounded in his ears as his pulse echoed his shock. He snapped his ability in, gnashing his teeth at the force. Brokk tensed underneath him. And then they were flying. The pounding of hooves, the monsters’ roars as they clued in that they were retreating. That they were the only ones left to retreat.
The ground quaked and shuddered from the sheer force of their chase. Snapping his ability was like trying to dominate a feral animal by sheer force, reeling from the impact. He gripped Brokk’s fur tighter within his grasp as a trickle of blood streamed from his nostrils. It was too much; he was losing himself to that sick serenade of destruction, of ripping the dabarnes minds apart. Shred by shred by shred.
Leaning lower and gritting his teeth, he breathed himself back into his body, to the present and the looming forest ahead. Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Nei’s mare broke the forest line first as Brokk charged. Gravity left them as they cut through the air, landing hard in the sanctuary of the woods. Nei had reined her mount to a stop, sweat dripping off her brow as she whispered low and hard under her breath. Brokk flattened his ears, whining as they all took in the bloodthirsty army snarling and galloping toward them. No movement stirred from the camp, pulsing embers dying in the night. Winking out of exsistence. The world swayed, as he prepared to meet his end. Everything seemed to still, and blinking, he looked down to his blood-soaked clothes, to his best friend, to their now queen. Despite the bloodshed, despite their losses, he choked on his anguish as thoughts of Emory filled every ounce of his being. He wouldn’t see
