he sprang out from the pines, trailing harpens. They tore at him, savaging his robes with every step he took, but the rest of the flock didn’t seem to realize what had happened yet.
The lighthouse. It wasn’t far. Maybe twenty yards at the most. He could make it. He would make it. He must make it.
His foot struck a stone. His arms windmilled; his hood flew back from his head.
Before he even hit the ground, he knew he was done for. He’d never rise again.
His whole skeleton seemed to clatter with the impact as his body struck the hard ground. Instinct made him roll, made him fling his arms up over his head. He heard the rip and shred of his garments as many beaks and claws tore into him, tore down to the skin. His eyes, rolling with terror, stared out between his nilarium fingers and glimpsed the flash of talons ready to rip them from their sockets.
But he also saw a flash of fire.
It couldn’t be—
Before the thought could take full form in his head, the fire struck. Not in a wild blast but in a single stroke, so precise, so searing, it never touched him. It passed directly over his body, close enough that he felt the wave of heat roll by. Harpens shrieked with agony, but their cries cut off almost at once. Bodies rained down on him, wings still flapping, legs still kicking.
Soran tried to raise his head, but another flash of fire forced him to duck and roll again, burying his face in the dirt, covering his head with his arms. More bodies thudded against his back and shoulders and littered the ground around him.
A high, thin voice cried out, “Sir! Sir, are you all right?”
Soran pulled his head upright. Blood dripped from cuts across his forehead and scalp, running into his eyes. He dashed rivulets away and blinked up into that pale freckled face framed by long coils of red hair.
Nelle crouched over him. With one hand she gripped his shoulder; with the other she grasped the hilt of a flaming spell-sword.
“How—” Soran gasped.
Before he could get another word out, the harpens were upon them again. The girl sprang to her feet, her stance wide and protective. With both hands she swung the sword in a furious arc of fire, cutting through wings and bodies. A smoldering stench of death and magic filled the air, stinging Soran’s nostrils.
The flock veered off and away, the shrieks no longer ravenous but terrified as the creatures made for the shelter of the pines, vanishing among their branches. Surrounded by dead harpen carcasses, Nelle watched them go, her sword still at the ready.
It was impossible. He must have gone mad. He must have lost his mind with terror, and in these last moments before death, his brain had conjured this insane image.
But though he blinked and shook his head and blinked again, the vision did not fade.
Nelle looked down at him. Sweat ran in streaks down her cheeks, and her arms shook with the effort of the magic she’d conjured. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but before any words could come, the spell-sword flickered dangerously. The spell was on the verge of breaking.
Soran pulled himself to his feet, staggering to keep from falling over again. Every part of his body hurt, and his robes hung in shreds from his limbs. “Come,” he said, holding out a hand to the girl. “We must get to the lighthouse.”
She nodded wordlessly but didn’t hand over the sword. Instead, she let go of the hilt with her left hand and slid her fingers into his.
That was . . . not what he’d intended.
There was no time to argue. The harpens would be on them again the moment they detected a weakness in her magic. Summoning his strength, Soran set off swiftly, dragging the girl behind him. She kept the sword upright, but he could feel the trembling weakness in her arm. This spell she’d conjured was surely far beyond her strength.
They were still ten yards out from the lighthouse when the spell-sword sputtered and the enchantment broke. Immediately the harpens rose in a cloudy mass from the pines and swooped toward them.
“Hurry!” Soran cried and yanked the girl along after him. She tripped and almost fell, but his firm grip on her hand kept her upright. He threw himself at the door, barging through the magical lock. Dragging the girl inside, he shoved her so that she fell