The sword hit his chest, but unlike her other battles, it did not slice through the man’s armor like cloth. Without her fire, her swords were just swords, deadly but limited. She felt a jolt, followed by a sharp pain in her shoulder as the blade embedded into the knight. Unable to keep hold, Bree released the hilt, and screaming against the pain, she climbed higher. The long stretch of cord attaching her sword to her gauntlet pulled to its limit, then tugged hard. Her body twisted, the strain on her arm intensified, and then the blade yanked free with a spurt of red. Bree searched for the other knight, fearful she’d lost control and was now vulnerable to his attacks, but the rest of the Weshern Seraphim had arrived, preceded by a barrage of ice arrows launched from Argus’s gauntlet. The knight dodged the first few, but the awkward movements stole his speed. Avoiding a burst of flame pushed him higher, right into a blast of lightning that ripped through his chest.
Bree lessened the throttle as she spun to find the knight she’d cut. It must have gone in deep, for she saw him drifting east, body limp. Bled out, by her guess. Argus launched a single shard of ice, which caved in his skull, then flew over to the body. He grabbed the left gauntlet, shut off the harness, and let the body fall. The Weshern Seraphim looped up and around, converging on the desolation that had been the theotechs’ camp. Bree hovered for a moment, gently pulling on the cord attached to her sword to get the gears inside the gauntlet to start reeling it in. Once it was in her grasp, she sheathed it, then lowered to the ground.
“Get the elements loaded up and out of here!” Argus shouted. “There’s not a chance in hell those in town didn’t hear that ruckus. Oh, and someone go loot the dead. We can’t afford to let a single element go to waste!”
Bree touched down, and she held her aching left arm against her side. Feeling strangely detached, she stared at the charred corpses of Center’s soldiers, faces still locked in agony upon death. Most were burned, though a good many had been crushed by ice and stone as well. The ones struck by lightning looked the most peaceful, their hearts having burst inside their chests before they realized they’d been struck. Fire roared in scattered patches all around, the sound of its crackling an accompaniment to the humming of their wings. Bree stared at the corpse of a man lying on his back, a jagged lance of ice protruding from his neck. His bloodstained tabard bore the symbol of Center, a clear circle intersecting five other circles, each bearing the symbol of the respective island. All but Galen, which had been filled in solid black. The sight chilled her, threatening to remove the last of the comfortable numbness that had blanketed her mind since the battle started.
“Bree?”
She turned to see Argus staring at her.
“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s...it’s nothing.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he let her be, instead supervising the Seraphs shoving aside pieces of the blasted and burned wagons. Amid the wreckage were ornate chests, their stained wood and gold decorations charred by fire. Argus’s handpicked gathered about the chests, readying large sacks they’d tied tightly to their waists. The seven opened up the damaged chests and pulled out the elements, their soft velvet cloths barely touched by the fiery barrage that had engulfed the wagons. By two and three they stuffed their bags with prisms, then moved on to the next chest.
Bree glanced about as they waited, eager to be gone. A dead Seraph of their own lay in the center of the camp, neck twisted at an awkward angle, an arrow sticking out from his forehead. Feeling like a scavenger, Bree walked to his side, lifted his right arm, and popped open the elemental compartment of his gauntlet. Inside was an ice element, and she pocketed it to hand in later. Eyes sweeping across the devastation their elements had unleashed, she wondered how much they’d expended to recover what the wagons carried.
I hope it’s enough to make up for what we’ve used, she thought. Part of her thought Argus wouldn’t care even if it didn’t. He wanted to strike a blow against Center. He wanted to let every citizen of Weshern know resistance wasn’t a hopeless endeavor.
“Knights coming in!” a Seraph shouted, turning Bree’s attention their way. Sure enough, the gold shimmer of wings rose above the town, three in total.
“Everyone, form up and hit them hard!” Argus shouted in response. “We need to buy time for the element bearers to escape!”
Wings thrumming with silver light, Bree led the way, swords drawn as the Weshern Seraphim flew to engage. With three dead, and seven staying back to loot the chests, it left twenty to face off against the three knights. It should have been overwhelming numbers. It should have been an easy victory.
Then fire and lightning crashed through their formation as three more knights ambushed from high above, lurking so far they were but minuscule dots. Their attacks hit simultaneously with the three at the front, engulfing the battlefield in chaos. Seraphim dropped, bodies burned and scarred, their easy victory now a desperate battle for survival.
CHAPTER
3
Bree pushed her wings to their limits, focusing on the three approaching knights straight ahead. The trio of enemies above would take twenty to thirty seconds to descend from such heights, and during that time their elemental attacks would be inaccurate, relying on luck and guesswork due to the great distance. If they could kill the first three, then engage the others...
Damn it! Bree silently swore as she swerved, lightning blasting to either side of her. Ice, fire, and stone might take time to travel, but one of the three above wielded lightning, and he fired at a frighteningly rapid pace. Enormous boulders flung through the air from above, and she fought her instinct to climb. The knight focusing on her would expect it, and sure enough, when she plunged sharply downward, a bolt of lightning lit the air above.
A fellow Seraph swooped past the stone, and Bree recognized those black stripes on his silver wings. Twisting to right herself, she pulled upward with her shoulders and back, lifting into a climb. She joined Argus’s side, accompanying him as if he were her squad leader. Together they rushed the stone-flinging knight, who’d pulled back into a hover while the other two raced east and west, splitting the Weshern forces into multiple engagements.
A storm of stone exploded toward them, far smaller chunks fired at a pace Bree didn’t even know was possible. Argus’s hand shot out, two quick symbols with his fingers ordering Bree to split, then converge. Following his command, she rotated her body ninety degrees and shot right while Argus banked hard to the left. Twirling so she faced her foe, Bree arched her back as far as it would go, taking herself on a direct collision course. The knight clearly expected her to attack with her element, whichever it might be, so he flung up a thin wall of stone, again with mastery far beyond any that Bree had witnessed before in battle. The stone also screened her from his sight for the briefest moment until the stone began to plummet.
Fighting off her initial impulse to swerve around, she refused to alter her course. Instead she reduced her speed so that the stone wall would drop just before her arrival. It was a tricky maneuver, but she relied on her instincts to judge it right. Thin, sharp pieces of stone shot around each edge of the falling wall. The top shot streaked through the air mere feet above her, and she flinched involuntarily. The wall continued its drop, she raced over, and then once more she saw the knight. He hovered in place, having spun to bring his gauntlet to defend against Argus knifing in from the opposite direction.
Argus flung a single lance of ice before veering away, dodging a thick piece of stone the size of his head. The ice shot caused the knight to flare his wings, pulling him up and away...and directly toward Bree.
Sword ready, Bree made sure not to make the same mistake twice. This time when she cut, she aimed for the throat. Her arm extended the sword, and its razor edge sliced across the knight’s neck. She felt a single tug, but she spun around as she held on, momentum carrying her backward as she looked upon the knight. Blood splashed in a great spray above him, neck cut front to back.
Argus swooped beside her, slowing enough so she
might hear his shout.
“At my side, Skyborn!”
She punched the throttle, taking up formation on his right. Argus led her to the nearest engagement. Three Seraphim chased after a knight unleashing burst after burst of flame. Despite being outnumbered three to one, he was on the offensive. Argus flew with his right arm outstretched, as he followed the knight’s path. The moment they were close enough, he unleashed a trio of thin lances, each one perfectly aimed. They struck the knight in the chest and shoulder, and though they did not pierce his golden armor, they did knock him off course. Flailing to regain control, he was easy prey for Olivia, who struck him down with a blast of lightning that ripped through his body.
“Retreat!” Argus shouted as he flew past the three. “Retreat to safety, now!”
They did so, flying west as Argus led Bree back to the wrecked camp. The seven there appeared finished loading up the last of the elements, and they soared into the air to join them, heavy bags hanging beneath them off their belts. Bree looked over her shoulder and saw other Seraphim breaking off in wild directions. Only three of the initial six knights remained, but they continued to attack. Bree winced at how few of their own survived. One of the knights chased after a fleeing Seraph, while two others spotted their larger group. Gold light burst about their wings as they soared into chase.
“Can we outrun them?” Bree shouted to Argus beside her.
The commander glanced over his shoulder, then shook his head.
“Their wings are faster than ours,” he shouted back. “And ours are burdened.”
Then they’d have to fight. Argus fired a single thin piece of ice over the heads of the seven Seraphs to gain their attention, then relayed his order with his hand. They turned around, with Bree and Argus taking the lead of the widening V formation. The Weshern Seraphs raced toward the knights...only to see the two knights spin about to retreat. Bree’s worry grew as the knights fled, gaining no distance despite their faster wings, and their heads constantly on a swivel.
Argus motioned an order, sending the V formation banking upward and about to flee toward the Aquila Forest. Immediately the two knights turned as well, following at a steady distance. Bree swore, realizing what they were doing. The knights didn’t need to engage. Time was on their side. The longer Argus kept their Seraphim flying, the more likely that additional knights would spot them and join in the attack.
Argus reached the same conclusion, and he drifted close enough to Bree to take her by the wrist. He shouted to be heard over the roar of the wind and the thrum of the wings. Beneath them, the sprawling fields were replaced with a tightly packed forest.
“We’ll have to chase them off together,” he shouted. “Just you and I.”
It was the only way to force the knights to either engage in a battle or lose sight of the other seven bearing the elements. But two against two? Bree felt a shiver of doubt, but her pride chased it away. She’d show no fear, not to any opponent.
“I understand,” she shouted back. “Give the order, and I’ll follow.”
He smiled at her, icy-blue eyes sparkling in the glow of the midnight fire. It was the happiest she’d ever seen him. Bree wondered how similar they might be, how comfortable they felt in battle as opposed to with their feet on the ground.
“Order given, Seraph. Kill our foes.”
Bree arched her back, looping around in a U while rotating her body. Argus maneuvered the same, and side by side, they flew directly toward the chasing knights, wings shimmering silver. Bree jammed her gauntlets against the loops atop the hilts of her swords, locking the safety cord, and then drew them from their sheaths. Eyes wide, she watched for the first sign of attack. Neither side veered, not the knights nor Bree and Argus. Just raw speed on a direct collision course. It was a test of nerves, Bree realized, a game as old as humanity itself. The first to blink, lost.
Argus swung his right hand in a wide arc, and seven shards of ice burst from his palm. The knights barely moved, the shards passing mere inches beneath them. The knights returned fire, the smaller knight shooting bullets of stone from her gauntlet while the far larger on the right formed a thin spray of fire that he weaved side to side. Bree steeled her nerves. Both attacks were too high and low, anticipating dodges that never came. Side by side, Bree and Argus crossed the distance at breakneck speed.
Bree shifted slightly to the right, choosing as her target the giant knight with a strange weapon strapped between his wings on his back. She twisted her body with all her strength, twirling with her arms outstretched. They were so close, and traveling at such speed, she didn’t think a man so big could maneuver away in time. She was wrong. The man cut power to his wings, reversed his body so he was traveling feetfirst, and then punched the wings back to life. The pain must have been incredible, but he rose up and away, out of reach of her spinning swords. Bree wondered why he’d perform such a difficult maneuver instead of banking upward like normal, but then realized after a simple twist of his body that he was now chasing her.
Streaks of flame burned the air on either side of her as she weaved, stretching every muscle in her body to change directions, always erratic, always unpredictable. Mostly she fled, but twice she turned about, hoping to catch the knight off guard. He was ready every time. The first attempt nearly bathed her in flame, while the second found her chasing empty air as the knight veered away. Bree’s confidence faded fast. His wings were faster than hers, and he used that to consistently stay outside the reach of her swords. She had to do something. If she couldn’t win as is, she had to change the rules of the game. If she couldn’t beat him in open air, what about in much more enclosed spaces? Moving as fast as she dared, Bree dropped feetfirst through the canopy of leaves, descending into the dark forest below. Upon landing, she raised her swords and spun, searching.
Like a bear crashing through the trees, the angelic knight arrived. He slammed to the ground while striking with an enormous ax, the head leaving a groove half a foot deep in the dirt. That he wielded an ax wasn’t surprising. Olivia had warned Bree as much. No, what left Bree’s mouth gaping was how the man wielded it with a single hand. It shouldn’t have been possible. The head of the ax was almost as big as her.
“The trees won’t hide you, little Weshern whelp,” the man said as he towered before her. His pale face looked almost yellow in the faint light that filtered through the leaves. “I’ll cut the entire forest down if I must.”
“I’m not hiding,” Bree said. “Not from you.”
Fire burst around her right sword as she tensed her arm and released a flow of power from the prism within her gauntlet. She clanged her swords together, the fire leaping to bathe the other as if it were alive. Bree braced her legs and lifted her burning blades, preparing for a charge. She’d hoped the knight would be intimidated. Instead, he laughed.
“Well, well,” he said, lifting his ax in both hands. “Not a whelp. A Phoenix.”
He jumped, his wings flaring gold to give him speed as he burst forward. Bree kicked herself backward, using her wings to add to her speed. The knight’s ax cleaved in a wide arc, moving impossibly fast for its size. Wind blew past her as the weapon missed. He twirled the ax in his hands as she dashed behind the thick trunk of an oak tree. Without pausing he swung the ax again, blasting it through the trunk in an explosion of splinters.
Bree fled, her bafflement growing. How could he wield that ax with such speed and grace? The knight flew over the collapsing trunk, ax lifted to swing. Bree ran, weaving around trees as he chased. She used her ears to track him, judging distance as he gained on her. When he was painfully close, she did not dodge the next tree but instead ran two steps up it, twisted, and kicked off. Her thumb cranked the throttle, pulling her into a mad collision course with the knight, her burning swords leading.
The smile on his pale face grew.
The head of the knight’s ax faced her, wielded like a shield. Bree veered to the side, hoping to strike around it. She’d cut with ease through the harnesses Serap
him wore, even shattered a sword, but metal this thick made a mockery of her own thin blades. One sword clanged against the ax head; the other slashed past it in a failed attempt to cut the knight’s neck. Instead it cut only air as the knight rotated with her passing, keeping his vulnerable flesh just out of reach. Once she was past he leapt after her, gold wings roaring. His ax lifted above his head, its long handle giving him such reach her head start meant nothing.
Bree cut off her wings, dug her heels into the ground, and then dove to her right. The knight’s ax smashed through overhead branches like they were twigs, then sank deep into the earth. He laughed as he ripped the ax head free, tearing chunks of earth with it.
“Look, Phoenix!” he shouted. “I’ve already dug your grave!”
Deciding that fleeing wasn’t an option, Bree faced him down, using her anger to give her courage. Despite the intimidating size of the ax, she posed just as much danger to him as he did to her. A single good hit with her burning blades and she’d drop him dead. They were on the ground, but nothing else had changed. The first to make a mistake paid with their lives.
“Give the dirt another whack,” she said, grinning at the knight. “It’s your grave you dug, not mine, and it’s not near big enough.”
“You’re not afraid,” the knight said as he lumbered closer. “Impressive. Maybe you’re actually deserving of your reputation.”
Instead of swinging like she expected, he extended his right hand and discharged a wide, thin spray of flame. Bree dove to one side, punching the throttle as she did. Her body shot out of reach from the fire, but her path was wild, uncontrolled. Her shoulder slammed into a tree; she rolled around it, killed her wings, and then dug in her heels so she might turn about. Her reward was seeing the giant knight lunging after her, ax raised mid-swing. Sensing an opening, she leapt at him instead of fleeing, blades lashing for his chest.
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