Page 67 of All the Wandering Light

The other soldier seemed to be having similar difficulties. After loosing his own arrow, unsuccessfully, he had tossed his bow aside and drawn his sword. He swiped first at one raven, then another, the creatures nimbly dodging the blows. It was like battling the wind.

Someone seized my wrist, and I started. Lusha had freed herself and held a knife—had the ravens brought it? Within seconds, she had sliced through my ropes.

The soldier closest to us seemed half out of his mind. More ravens had settled in the nearby trees—the man loosed arrow after arrow until his quiver was empty, then began slicing at the air with his sword, each time missing the mark.

“Send for the captain,” he said to the other soldier, who barely seemed to hear him.

Shouts rang out from the other camp. To my astonishment, the soldiers there seemed to be engaged in a flailing battle with an invisible enemy. Then I saw a flash of feathers as a raven swooped past their campfire.

I had enough time to marvel at the sight of the fearsome soldiers of the Fifth Army locked in battle with a flock of birds before Lusha crept up behind one of our guards and struck him on the head with a rock.

I surged to my feet. The second soldier didn’t even notice—ravens skimmed his scalp with their claws. Following Lusha’s lead, I hefted a rock, and slammed it against his skull.

The man dropped like a dead branch. I poked him with my foot, but he merely let out a low groan.

I snatched the kinnika from around his neck. Then Lusha and I ran toward the chaos of the larger camp, ravens trailing like the train of a dark dress.

“Tem!” I yelled.

He looked up, his eyes widening. He was restrained by two soldiers, though he didn’t appear to be struggling. They must have assumed he was the cause of this—and why wouldn’t they? The ravens who had accompanied us joined the others attacking the soldiers.

I tossed Tem the kinnika. He caught them one-handed, already mouthing an incantation. The bells sang out, and the soldiers restraining him staggered back as if propelled by an invisible force.

I was at Tem’s side in a heartbeat, my arm around his shoulders. “Can you run?”

One side of his face was bruised, and he held himself stiffly, but he nodded.

Lusha reappeared, holding her pack. Motioning, she dashed into the trees, and Tem and I followed. Behind us, the soldiers were still fighting their impossible battle. Ravens lay dead on the forest floor, but it made little difference. Each time they killed one, another took its place.

We plowed through the forest at a stumbling run. Several ravens came along, flitting ahead of us like sentinels. Tem tripped over a root.

“Lusha,” I called, “slow down. Tem can’t—”

“And where, pray tell, are you going?”

Lusha stumbled to a halt so abruptly that I collided with her. The captain stepped out of the trees, bow drawn, arrow nocked, his expression savage.

“I presume these creatures are yours?” He neither flinched nor shifted his gaze as a raven fluttered past his head. He stopped before Lusha, the arrow mere inches from her throat. “And that they would mourn if I loosed this arrow?”

Lusha held up a hand, and the ravens stopped swooping. They clustered in the branches like deathly spectators in an arena, their black gazes fixed on Elin.

Lusha didn’t look at the arrow. She only looked at the captain. “You won’t kill me.”

“No? You seemed so certain of my malicious intentions earlier. And that was before you threw my army into chaos.”

Lusha moved forward so that the tip of the arrow brushed her skin. “If you were going to kill me, you would have already done it. For some reason, you’re holding back.”

“Do you truly not know the reason?” His voice was low. His fingers gripping the bowstring were white. “What are you? Tell me the truth.”

“I have. We are not witches. We mean no harm to anyone.”

“Says the girl who can command a flock of ravens with a gesture, and a man’s heart with a glance.”

I expected Lusha to fix him with that cool look she gave all men who were too familiar, no matter how handsome they were, or give him a sharp retort—but to my astonishment, she did neither. Her lips parted, as if she was uncertain how to respond.

The captain seemed to sense this. His bow lowered slightly, his chin only inches from her forehead. Lusha made no move to step back, merely gazed up at him. Elin’s hair tumbled forward, obscuring one eye.

Then Lusha’s arm shot up, so quickly I saw only a flash as her knife sliced through the captain’s bowstring.