of war.
He attacks.
I’ve trained with the most elite warriors of Mara since I was twelve years old. I have seen Strikers and soldiers alike cut down their enemies without mercy. I am not naïve about what we are capable of doing to one another in war.
But never in my life have I seen an attack like what he unleashes.
He moves like a bolt of lightning. I can barely see him through the blur of motion. The force of him launching forward at the Ghosts is so strong that the wind knocks me to my knees. The black blades of his enormous wings slice clean through the nearest Ghost as if it were made of soft clay, cutting the creature into bloody ribbons of flesh. He twists and shears through a second. A third. The Ghosts, riled up, scream and turn toward him, but they barely have time to blink before he cuts through them again. The tang of blood fills the air.
A Ghost towering a dozen feet high lunges at him. It doesn’t even have the chance to open its jaws before he pushes his wings down. He surges into the air and spins. His wings expand to its terrifying span and then cut straight into the Ghost.
Like it’s made of nothing. Like it’s a ghost of the air.
He decapitates it and shreds the body into pieces. Across the battlefield, he soars and dips, expanding his wings and then contracting them like a falcon on the hunt, diving through packs of Ghosts, destroying them, littering the field with their blood. Federation soldiers in his way are slaughtered like sheep. Their terrified screams reach my ears.
I find my feet again. As Red—the Skyhunter—continues his rampage, I leap up and pull out my blades. They flash through the air, cutting, slicing, finding new life as I follow his path and make my way through enemy lines. A strange fervor hums through me. Miraculously, I can see Red scattering the Federation’s forces, splitting their formations and sending them fleeing in confused clusters, right into the paths of our waiting soldiers and Strikers.
My body moves in a rhythm of its own, following the instincts that come with years of training. I fight my way back to where Adena and Jeran are pushing against a tide of Federation soldiers. The soldiers shrink away, knowing the reputation that comes with our sapphire coats, but Adena is in the throes of battle frenzy, her eyes alight with the fire of potential victory. Beside her, Jeran moves in sync with her every attack, his jaw clenched and movements lithe.
I can feel the tide of change in our moods. Before us, we cut through their troops like a scythe through wheat. The Ghosts are few now. The ones left are being called to retreat. A short distance from us, I see Red dive into a battalion of Federation soldiers. Blood follows in his wake.
And then I hear it. The horn echoes across the valley, the Federation’s call to stand down.
A roar goes up from our soldiers. New strength rushes through my veins, and I throw myself into every cut and thrust, every spin and crouch. Their soldiers are retreating. Our men pursue them.
In the midst of our wild joy, I pause to see Red crouched in the middle of a bloodstained field. My elation trembles.
He is surrounded by our own soldiers, but he bares his teeth at any who attempt to come close to him. His eyes are still drowned in that silver-white light, so that there is no expression on him except pure rage. His fingers claw long lines into the dirt. His giant wings drip with blood. When he shifts, those wings move with him. The soldiers around him dart away like a school of fish, only to come back with their raised spears.
“You have to stop him,” Jeran says, materializing silently beside me. His face is streaked with blood and dirt, and in this fiery night, it’s hard to see the softhearted boy I know so well. “They’re trying to rein him in. I don’t think he can tell that they’re Marans.”
He’s going to kill them. I break into a run, then slow as I reach the circle of soldiers surrounding him. His eyes dart from silhouette to silhouette, still glowing with white-hot fury. I don’t know how much of them he can see. Perhaps everything looks like a smear of monsters to him.
There is no Striker training for this. No precedent I can draw on