They want to panic us until we lash out blindly, and then we’ll be easy prey. Maybe that’s just a hunting strategy, but it feels cruel.
“What if no one’s at the cabin?” Dain yells.
“Then we go inside.”
“What if they couldn’t clear the dropbears?”
“Then we fight.”
I’m not sure there is any other plan. We can’t climb trees to escape them. We can’t duck into a cave or dive into a river. I rack my brain for alternatives, but nothing comes.
When Malric imitates a dog’s bark, I know he’s trying to get our attention, fast.
I turn just as a harpy dives at my legs. Malric lunges at it and catches one huge wing. He whips his head, and the harpy comes free, but blood sprays as the beast takes off screaming. Then another one dives at my legs, and Malric sends it off with a snap. A third one doesn’t even get close before Malric’s snarl makes the beast change its mind.
Why are they aiming for my legs? At least when they’re diving at my head and shoulders, they’re too high for Malric to catch.
Does it matter?
Something tells me it does.
Dain lets out an oath, the word carried on a yelp of surprise. I lunge for him, but Malric grabs me, and I see Dain has only tripped. He’s about to right himself when a harpy dives and knocks him off balance.
That’s what they were doing. Trying to trip me. Only Malric wasn’t going to let them, so they attacked Dain instead.
When the second harpy plows into Dain, he’s already wobbly, and he falls. I lunge at the same time as Malric, and we collide. I spin out of the way as Malric twists.
A harpy dives at my face. All I see are talons, each as long as my finger. I swing my sword up. It cleaves into the beast, and the harpy screams.
Another grabs my hair. I swing again, wilder now, even as Jannah’s voice whispers for me to slow down. My blow hits broadside, and the vibration almost makes me lose my grip.
Jacko drops from where he’d been clinging to my chest.
“Jacko!”
I catch a glimpse of him rearing up, antlers and teeth and claws flashing. One harpy veers away, but when another flies for him, I shout, “Hide, Jacko! Hide!”
Please hide. Please get out of here.
The harpy I’d hit broadside isn’t even dazed. It’s already diving at me again, darting and dodging, easily avoiding my sword swings.
Two harpies swoop at Jacko. One manages to grab him, and I let out a scream, running and swinging. My sword hits the beast, and it drops Jacko.
“Hide!” I shout again. “Now! Please!”
The jackalope gives me one look, and then his tail flashes as he starts to run…down the open trail.
“Jacko!” I shriek.
His white tail is a clear target for the two harpies that chase him. As soon as one dives, though, he tears into the forest. When they pull away, he veers back. He’s leading them away. He’s fast, and he has antlers and teeth and claws. I need to trust he’ll be all right.
At a muffled cry behind me, I spin to see Dain on the ground, with three harpies going at him. Two more taunt Malric. They dive in and out of range, keeping the warg from getting to me or Dain.
Dain is on his stomach. The dropbear must be sheltered beneath him, and at that angle, all the harpies can do is strike at his back. I run and slash one. Then another grabs my foot. I don’t see it. All I know is that one moment I’m upright and running, and then my foot is flying from under me.
I swing my sword…and nearly fall again with the momentum. The ebony sword is too big for this fight. I knew that when I nearly lost my grip the first time. The harpies might be big, but they dart and dive like swallows.
I sheathe my sword and pull my dagger instead. Then I sprint toward Dain, but only get two paces when a harpy grabs my hair again. Before I can swing my dagger, a second harpy digs its talons into my long curls and yanks me off the ground.
Pain rips through me. Instinct takes over, my training forgotten. I claw upward with my left hand, my right stabbing the dagger uselessly.
Memory flashes. Tiera’s gryphon mother snatching me in her talons and carrying me into the air. Yet as terrifying as that had been, it hadn’t hurt. This is sheer agony, every hair feeling as if it’s being pulled from my scalp, pain stabbing through my neck as my entire body is suspended from it.
I’m only a few feet off the ground. However much it hurts, I am alive, and the harpies aren’t strong enough to get me higher. They’re screeching at their flock for help, but none come. Beneath me, something grabs hold of my foot, and I have a horrible image of being carried up by my legs and my hair. Then strong jaws clamp around my boot.
Malric.
He tugs, and at the same moment, I slash my dagger upward. I hit my hair—I feel that—but I also strike something hard, and one of the harpies screams. I hit again. Blood rains down, and the beast surges off, shrieking.
My feet smack into the ground, but the other harpy doesn’t let go. It’s screaming and pulling, and I think it’s trying to get me into the air by itself. Then I realize it’s caught in my hair.
I drop to my knees and slam my head toward the ground. The beast hits with a thud. Before Malric can attack, a brown blur flies from the forest.
Jacko launches himself at the harpy. He bites its chest and claws at it as it continues to shriek and struggle. Each flail rends at my scalp, and I grit my teeth as I reach up to untangle my hair.
Wings slap my hand, and talons scratch me, but they’re
