Page 19 of All the Wandering Light

At the sound of my voice, the creature faltered. It turned briefly to gaze at me. It was Norbu, the abstracted Three Cities shaman who had traveled with River during his time as Royal Explorer, and been part of our expedition to Raksha. After attacking us at base camp, he had vanished with the other fiangul.

Mara slammed his arm into Norbu’s, breaking his hold. I reached his side and helped him to his feet as he gasped and coughed, and together we staggered back to the protection of Tem’s shield. He expanded it to embrace us as two fiangul swooped down.

“I could tell they were stronger.” Tem’s voice was grave. “But this is new.”

The whispers rose again. It was as if they were pounding against my skull, seeking a way in. Tem grabbed me, shouting my name. Somehow, I had lurched forward again, almost to the edge of his shield.

“Can’t you hear them?” I stared at him, dazed, as the whispers wormed through my thoughts. Guide you. Safe, safe.

“I can hear,” Tem said. “But it doesn’t affect me. Perhaps the kinnika—”

Mara shouted. It was Lusha who was in danger now—she had staggered just beyond the shield. Mara hauled her back as one of the fiangul reached its taloned hand toward her billowing hair.

“Lusha!” I yelled. All my former anger was forgotten in an instant—I wrapped my arms around her, pinning her in place with all my strength. She continued to struggle, but I only tightened my grip, grateful for my stockier frame. I wasn’t going to let her go anywhere.

“Azar-at,” I whispered. “Where are you?”

I am here.

I looked around. I thought I caught a flash of ember-colored eyes, somewhere just beyond Tem’s shield.

“I need your help,” I said into the storm.

Yes, Kamzin. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought its tone was almost dry.

I swallowed. “Wait until I give the word.”

“It’s weakening,” Tem said. Despite the cold, sweat stood out on his brow. “The spell—I can’t hold it.”

“Drop the barrier, then,” Mara said. His hair was tangled with snow, and a bruise darkened the side of his face. He strung an arrow to Dargye’s bow and took aim at one of the fiangul. “Let’s fight—I’m sick of this cowering.”

“We’d lose,” I snapped. “They’ll order us to lay down our weapons, and we’ll do it. Tem—what about that snow spell of River’s? It worked on them last time.”

He shook his head. “I don’t—I don’t think I have the power to cast something like that.”

But I do. I bit my lip and tasted blood. Tem needed me. His spell wouldn’t hold much longer. I remembered the torment I had experienced after healing Ragtooth—yet it wasn’t that which gave me pause. How much would it cost me to drive the fiangul away? Terror twisted my stomach into a knot. Yet the wind was still dropping—the storm was beginning to lift. Could Tem hold on?

Suddenly, one of the fiangul dove toward Tem’s shield with a ghastly cry, wings folded. It struck the barrier and hovered there, writhing, while Tem shouted a new incantation. The air shuddered—and then the creature fell through the shield, sending up a spray of snow as it landed. Lusha buried an arrow in its chest before it could rise again. Crimson blood spilled onto the snow—a jarringly human color.

Tem sounded the kinnika furiously. But the fiangul now seemed barely hindered by the spell—one flew toward us, its wings beating rapidly as if approaching through a fierce headwind. Another lunged at Lusha. Tem grasped a different bell, and a blast of wind knocked the fiangul on its back. Mara slashed his dagger across the creature’s throat, and the snow bloomed redder still.

It had taken only seconds. Tem’s shield had fallen.

Lusha grabbed my arm and shoved me between her and Mara. “Back-to-back!” she shouted.

That’s not back-to-back. My mind seemed to be working in slow motion. The fiangul glided toward us like a dark tide. Norbu was among them, but there was no hesitation in him now—his eyes, black and staring, could have been fixed on any one of us, or none.

“All right,” I whispered. “I’m ready.”

You must picture the spell in your thoughts. Azar-at’s voice was as calm as always, even as Lusha loosed another arrow, and another. Give form to the magic.

Give form to the magic. My mind went blank. Chirri had never taught me any defensive spells—which, in her caustic opinion, were too dangerous for someone of my abilities, more likely to kill me than my target.

You must decide, Kamzin.

Lusha screamed. One of the creatures had seized hold of her hair as it was tossed by the wind. Mara slashed at the fiangul with his blade, and the creature retreated, black strands tangled in its fingers.

Tem rang another bell once, sharply, shouting a different incantation. It seemed to knock the fiangul back like a physical blow.