Page 65 of Firebird
Animosity dripped from his tongue.
“Who are you?”
He stopped circling and planted his feet wide, completely fearless even while I stood several feet taller than him in half-skin.
“You will know soon enough.” He tilted his head, his grip tightening on the bloody blade in his hand. The one he’d used to kill my standard bearer. “All the world will know who we are when we are ready.”
Faster than was humanly possible, he streaked toward me. I swiped at his throat this time, but he ducked unnaturally fast and dragged the serrated edge of his blade across my abdomen and side. Roaring at the sharp pain, I twisted to defend against his next attack.
But he was already at the woods’ edge along the outer ring of fire, staring back at me, thick plumes of smoke billowing behind him. In that single moment, it wasn’t the pain in my abdomen or the cries of my men or the roaring inferno screaming toward the sky that catapulted my pulse and sent a chill down my spine. It was the otherworldly flicker of gold flaring bright in his eyes before he vanished into the smoke.
“General!” Salvo was flying up the hill in half-skin, eyes wide, having recovered from the smoke.
That’s when I finally noticed the trail of warm blood gushing from between my clawed fingers where I’d pressed them to my abdomen. Looking down, I saw that the giant’s knife had cut me deep, opening a wide gash nearly to the side of my hip. Blood streamed down one leg, pouring into the ground at my feet. Searing pain pulsed from the wound, more than it should.
“General.”Salvo caught me as I fell to one knee, the quick blood loss pulling me into darkness.
XVIII
MALINA
“Julian,” I breathed out on a gasp as I rushed toward Trajan and another soldier, both in half-skin, carrying him into the tent.
Julian was in human form but naked, barely conscious. He must’ve shifted on the battlefield. Dark red blood dripped from his waist down his body.
“Gods! What happened?”
“Move, woman,” said the emerald-scaled soldier I didn’t know, shoving me to the side.
Julian erupted into a savage snarl and launched toward the man,hands reaching for his throat. The soldier fell back on a cry, knocking the war table over, maps scattering.
“Julian!” Trajan hauled him back and lifted him bodily, carrying him toward the sleeping quarters.
I leaped into action, drawing the curtain back so that Trajan could carry him through, his wings scraping the top of the tent. Once Julian was laid upon the bed and Trajan moved out of the small sleeping space, I set to work, finding the rags used for washing and what little water was left in the pitcher.
“Send for Koska,” I snapped, sitting on the edge of his bed with the wet rag, beginning to wash the wound.
“He attacked me,” the soldier said to Trajan, both standing near the entrance to the bedchamber.
“He’s delirious,” said Trajan. “Likely imagined you were his attacker for a moment. Go fetch Koska.”
The soldier instantly obeyed and headed toward the tent exit, leaving me alone with Trajan. His half-skin form was unsettling. Especially since he was so big and broad, his dark blue scales covering most of his body, his eyes gleaming bright blue. I would’ve been terrified had I not known him first in human form.
“What happened?”
Trajan shook his head. “One of the barbarians. He cut Julian, then Salvo saw them fighting but the enemy fled into the smoky woods.”
“Cut him,” I muttered, my attention back on washing the wound, wincing at how deep it went. “It’s more than a cut.”
Koska hurried into the tent and remained on the other side of the bedchamber curtain, his figure visible through the sheer fabric.
“Koska, I need fresh water, thread, and a needle. And salve for the wound. Hurry,” I snapped.
“Yes. At once.” He fled the tent.
“You know how to suture wounds?” asked Trajan, his guttural speech eerie.
“It’s no different than stitching fabric.” I dipped the rag in the bowl, the water cloudy red, then wrung it out.
