CHAPTER FORTY-TWO（Untitled）Branikk

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Branikk

We're doing it! We're besting the vile soul stealers! The net guns my bride created are amazing, shooting birds out of the sky to fall in a tangle of feathers and red beaks and net. I remind myself to stay on guard. The rest of the flock remains active until a cu sith gathers up the bird I just shot down, but as soon as they do, it's another whole flock subdued.

Soon the air over Aurora is the darkest of all, as one captured bird after another is hung from her saddle, the similarly trapped flocks filling the air right above her, like a storm cloud caught in a bottle. The birds wheel about, each jockeying for position in a space growing ever more crowded.

"Why do they keep coming?" Dravarr asks. "They must see how we capture them."

"I don't know."

Drake incinerates another batch of birds. He can only do so every ten minutes because he has to recharge his magic. But he'll still be a big help once we capture all the sluagh. We can take each flock one by one and let him dispose of them.

I shoot another bird from the sky, my blood humming with battle lust, the taste of victory already sweet in my mouth.

And it's all because of my bride and her fantastic creations.

I catch sight of her, her strong hands amazingly quick as she ties a bag closed and adds it to the mass dangling from Aurora's saddle, only to turn and do it again and again.

She's amazing. Her net bags are almost even more useful than the guns.

I lift and shoot, and a netted bird plummets to the ground.

A feral grin bares my tusks at the sight.

We will win, and I will celebrate our victory by toasting my bride before everyone and letting her know I love her.

A gourd sails down from the sky, striking the ground right behind Drake to erupt in an orange cloud. Fuck. The soul stealers have resorted to their most cowardly weapon.

"Ware the deathsleep!" I yell. The herb puts all fae except the sluagh into a hundred-year coma. We have an antidote now, thanks to the dragons and my friend Krivoth, but it still allows sluagh to incapacitate an enemy for long enough to steal all of that person's life force.

My cry comes too late. The vile herb catches the dragon teen by surprise. He has no fire because he'd already used it all, and the cloud billows around him while he's mid launch.

Drake's wings flap once, lifting his head above the cloud. But his golden eyes shut, and he disappears from view with a heavy thud. By the time the wind thins the cloud enough to see him again, he's slumped on top of the hill, his wings outspread, completely unconscious.

Another gourd drops at the other end of the clearing, the heavy orange cloud incapacitating several cu sith.

"That's why they're not worried about us catching them," I say.

Dravarr nods. "They plan to knock us all out, take on their true form, and free all the trapped birds."

"Then they'll feast on everyone." Horror grips me even as the words leave my mouth. As much as I worry about everyone, my thoughts leap to only one place. My bride! I cannot bear the thought of the vile soul stealers anywhere near her.

I must protect her.

I drop the net gun and pull the bow from my back, nocking an arrow. "Help me find the falling gourds, and I'll burst them high overhead before they get to us."

His face set in hard lines, my warlord gives me a sharp nod. "I'll use compass directions?"

"Yes," I agree, pointing in a specific direction, so we both use the same bearing. "That's due north."

We stand back to back, so that between the two of us, we can scan all of the sky.

"South-east," Dravarr yells.

We spin, moving as one, and I lift and shoot. My magic wraps around the arrow, sending it true. And orange cloud blossoms overhead, and I pray to the goddess it's far enough away to not incapacitate anyone on the ground.

Because the sluagh attack and attack, taking full advantage of the fact that neither Dravarr or I can take the time to shoot them from the sky.

"Due west!"

I spin and shoot. Another explosion of orange overhead.

Satisfaction roars through me in a blaze of energy. I'm doing it! I'm keeping the deathsleep away from our fighters. I'm keeping my moon bound bride safe.

Victory will be ours

Then a sound cuts through all the noise of battle, chilling my blood.

The sound of Grace gasping in pain.

No!