Its movements finally slowed, but I had lost my grip on the knife in the upheaval. I began tearing at the tissue surrounding me with my hands. I was almost out of time—I had to breathe soon or suffocate—but I would likely be blind for a moment when I pulled out because of all the blood. I had to be sure the thing was in no shape for one final attack at that point, or I’d be as vulnerable as it was now.
I grabbed at anything, ripping and clawing, but my strength wasn’t up to par and without the knife I couldn’t do much damage. The body had stilled around me, and my lungs were burning in my chest, screaming at me to take the risk, to get out while I still had enough strength. I started moving backward, and then realized I had a new problem: the thing had collapsed onto its belly, closing the wound and cutting off the only exit I had. I pushed and fought from inside, but the leathery skin was impervious to all attempt to break through it. It stretched, but held, and my efforts were growing feeble as the burning in my chest spread weakness throughout my body.
One of my searching hands encountered something soft that had a familiar resiliency. Biting it open, I smashed my face against the cavity, and inhaled. I’d been right—the creature’s lung had retained enough air for one breath, and despite being damp and fetid, it was sweet in my lungs.
It bought me some time, but not much, and my limbs still felt like they were moving through molasses. Then my hand closed around something long and sharp and hard, and I gripped it like the lifeline it was, even though the blade cut into my palm. I was trying to turn it, to get a cutting edge against that damnable hide, when a gaping hole was slashed in the darkness. A cascade of water droplets blew in on me, wetting my face, and I gasped in a great lungful of the cold, clean scent of rain.
“Dorina!” I was hauled from the bloody cavern, my body making a squelching sound as it tore free. “Dorina!” Blood was in my ears; I could barely hear, but the sound of Louis-Cesare’s voice got through somehow. I pried open my eyes, blinking God knew what aside, and he caught me in a fierce embrace. His saber arm was crimsoned to the shoulder, and his other hand was gloved with gore. I’d never been so happy to see anyone.
“I’m okay,” I croaked, wondering if it was true as the world spun around me. I felt myself being lifted. One second we were by the carcass, the next beside the house. Louis-Cesare pressed me against the stucco, gripped my face in one large, muddy hand and kissed me. I fought free after a moment, gasping for air, trying to keep the heavy mass of hair dripping down his bare shoulders from suffocating me. “Not the time!” I choked.
“Est-ce que vous êtes folle?” His voice was harsh.
“No more so than you,” I gasped, spitting out something squashy that I didn’t look at too closely. “And considering everything, I really think you can use the familiar.”
“I told you that I was coming—” For some reason, he was shaking.
I had a bad taste in my mouth. I spat and it was red, but I didn’t think the blood was mine. “What? Did you think one little bird was going to do me in?” The liquid fatigue in my muscles forced me to lean against the house to keep from falling over. I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Hell, that was just a warm-up.”
Louis-Cesare muttered something I didn’t catch. Probably just as well. I ran a trembling hand over myself to check that all my parts were still there. I appeared to be okay, other than for assorted claw marks. The only ones that worried me were those on my abused shoulders. They were bad enough to limit my movement.
I tried to step out of the circle of Louis-Cesare’s arms—we were under an overhang from the roof, and considering that I was soaked with bird goo, I preferred to stand in the rain. But he tightened his grip and glared at me. “You are not going anywhere!”
“Oh, okay. You’re going to round up Radu’s little horrors and guard him from whatever has already slunk into the house, and get the wards