Half Lost (The Half Bad Trilogy #3) - Sally Green Page 0,11

as she grunts loud and I pull the Fairborn down, ripping material and flesh. Hot, slippery guts spill over my left hand. The Hunter is visible now, writhing on the ground, and I’m kneeling over her, holding her jaw closed, muffling her whimper. She’s another young woman, maybe in her mid-twenties.

I wipe my hand on her clothes, and I clean the Fairborn too, risking going visible for a second or two, but I have to move much faster now. That was too slow and she made a noise—not a big one but enough to alert the other guards, if they’re good. I can’t risk the guards waking the others.

I have to get into the camp.

I go as fast and quiet as I can. The fire is low but bright and I can make out the shapes of three people lying near it. Further away, by a large tree, is another Hunter and near her, chained to the tree, is a hooded prisoner, a female prisoner, petite and slim. I need to concentrate. So, four Hunters here, two left keeping guard, and the prisoner.

I slit the throat of the nearest sleeping Hunter but she kicks and jerks and I have to move to the next one fast. I don’t need to worry about being silent now. I need to be quick; the sleepers are waking but still don’t know what’s happening. The next Hunter is getting up but I push her down and stab her throat and take a step toward the third, but the second one isn’t giving in without a fight and she gets hold of my leg, clinging on, bleeding out. Somehow she has her gun in her hand and shoots. I’m still invisible but off balance and the bullet misses me and I kick her in the face and roll away.

That’s four Hunters dead, four still alive and it’s chaos now. The Hunter by the prisoner has gone invisible but is shouting for the guards. The Hunter by the campfire has got her gun. Fairborn in sheath, I send lightning out from both hands, one in the direction of each Hunter. Smoke and a scream comes from the one by the fire and I leap at her, falling on to her, and the Fairborn back in my hand knows where to drive itself: into her stomach and then ripping upward. She screams again and the Fairborn slashes across and the Hunter goes silent. Then there’s shooting and I push away from the dead Hunter and roll away still further.

That’s five down. I crouch. The sixth Hunter, who was by the prisoner, is now invisible and moving. She’s shooting all over the place but I can’t get an exact position on her. I throw myself flat to the ground and wait.

The shooting stops. My hands are slick with blood but the Fairborn is happy. I feel its vibration, its desire to do more work. There’s still three Hunters alive. And the prisoner. I look over to her. She’s still there, now lying curled up on the ground. Then I realize I’m not invisible any more. Fuck! Concentrate! Breathe. Think air! I check my hand and I’m invisible again. I was lucky they didn’t see me but it’s dark and I’m flat on the ground and anyway I’m invisible again.

Then a shout—“Lady two!”—and whoever said it is moving fast to my right. It’s code for something, something that they’ve planned. I need to get out!

I run to my left as fast and silent as I can but only get three paces before my muscles cramp up: first my legs and then my arms and my stomach. I drop to my knees. Head on the ground. Trying to breathe quietly. Wanting to vomit. It’s some kind of magic. Bad, but not as bad as Celia’s noise. I can fight it if I heal.

I get a buzz from the healing and then run for the trees. I’ve almost reached them when the cramp hits me again. I’m on my knees and the shooting starts again and I roll over and over and send lightning out of my hands. And I hit a tree trunk and I heal again and get to my feet and the shooting is mad and there’s shouting and I dive to the side and throw lightning bolts, as many as I can, as far as I can. I’m buzzing from healing and somehow that seems to help me and I’m pissed off and terrified too. And I