and the slashing swords of the Long Hand, the bodach ignored the manic horses and pounced onto the two closest hellyll like a cat. The warriors sent their weapons into the creature but to no effect; they might as well have been fighting air. They screamed as its claws punctured their armor and flesh beneath, ripping through steel and bone alike.
In seconds their lifeless, ravaged bodies hit the trail.
Bolstered through his pain by adrenaline, Richard spurred Lyrian into the melee; he held Arondight high, blue fire angrily running its length. The bodach shrunk from him as it dodged his first lunge, its crimson eyes narrowed. He thrust again, sending the fiery steel toward the broad chest of the beast as Lugh, enraged, thrust his spear at its hindquarters. The bodach dodged Arondight but did not gain safety from the triangular point of the spear; Areadbhar penetrated the smoky innards of the creature’s thigh.
Bright golden fire coalesced there—so bright that Richard shielded his eyes. An inhuman howl of pain punctuated the trailside as the bodach wrenched away.
“Release, Lugh!” Richard roared.
“Hai, Grayth!” the lord yelled at his mount, ignoring the knight.
As Lugh tried to joust the beast over the edge of the trail, the bodach danced away from Richard. It gripped the shaft of the spear with two forefeet and, pulling it free, lifted Lugh clear of his Rhedewyr and sent him hurtling through the air to crash against the bare granite of the mountainside.
Lugh crumpled to the trail like an empty sack.
The bodach wasted no time. It scuttled toward the dazed lord like a spider. Before it could reach Lugh, Willowyn barreled into its side, slamming it away, as Deirdre slashed with her sword, the steel a blur, her hair as wild as her actions.
“Ayrith! Ayrith!” the redhead screamed.
The bodach buckled before the surprise assault, gathering itself in a dark mass, looking for an angle to attack her.
“Get out of the way, Deirdre!” Richard bellowed.
Too late, the bodach swiped at Willowyn, its claws like daggers. The Rhedewyr screamed in pain and stumbled backward, the side of her neck slashed to bleeding flesh. Deirdre somehow kept her seat, her sword flailing in impotence as she held on.
Eyes raging fire, the bodach bunched to strike at Deirdre.
“No! Richard!” Bran roared, completely unable to help. Finally given a clear path, Richard sent azure fire hurtling at the Unseelie beast. The power radiated from his being, to do what was right in the face of grave evil. The fire struck the beast and sent it pinwheeling through the air. With the blue flames licking its smoky outline, it moved like a tiger toward Richard, fixated on its last remaining enemy with true power at his command. The knight sent his magic into the creature again, to slow it, but the bodach was ready this time, leaping aside with ease.
It came on.
Realizing he was too far away for a killing blow, Richard charged Lyrian. He pummeled the creature with bursts of his will, keeping it pinned away from the others, unwilling to let it gain another advantage. The bodach fought the fire, the charred odor of burning garbage thick on the air. Richard was aware of Kegan and Connal pulling Bran away from the fight as the remaining hellyll helped the knight corner the creature against the rock bluff, trying to find openings, jabbing with their swords.
With their aid, Richard pressed forward, inching closer to the creature to strike.
Before he got close enough to deliver a killing stroke, the thing leapt backward from the fire suddenly and, scrambling up the jagged granite, disappeared into the night with bits of flickering flame still burning its body.
“Where did it go?” Bran breathed.
No one replied. All eyes probed the Snowdon, searching. Connal calmed the horses while Kegan looked at the wounds Willowyn had sustained. Lugh fought to rise, his movements drunken. No sounds other than the snorting Rhedewyr and the heavy breathing of the Long Hand surrounded them.
Long moments passed. Nothing happened.
“Is it gone?” Kegan hissed.
Richard gripped Arondight tightly. “I don’t think so.”
The shadow dropped again—this time down the trail behind the clurichauns.
As the others rushed to aid them, Kegan jumped in front of his son, a long silver knife freed and a whip in his other hand. The bodach pounced. Even striking it with the whip, the monster flung Kegan aside like he was a puppet.
Ignoring Connal, the bodach came at Bran again.
The bodach struck the boy from behind, sending him to the ground. Warding himself from the