Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SOFIA
They’d almost ignored the screams. Sofia had almost told Chalia to keep flying. Thank the dragon gods she hadn’t.
Sofia’s eyes met Fox’s. He was crouched, covered in blood beneath a towering antlered creature with a face like white bone.
Sofia’s heart thundered in her chest. Fox had stumbled into a damned ciervado.
Everything stopped when his eyes met hers, and she saw the fear in his expression erased almost immediately, replaced with something she didn’t have time to examine.
Hope? Joy? It didn’t matter. She was too aware that she didn’t have a single piece of iron on her.
“Chalia, thoughts?” she said, as the ciervado turned on them, swiping the air with a clawed hand, just missing the scales along Chalia’s stomach as she flew upward.
“It’s usually of a dragon’s nature to never go anywhere near the death-head.”
Sofia had to agree with the dragon’s way, but, “That’s not really an option right now.”
The ciervado turned back on Fox and his companion, drawn by the half-sobbed prayer the young man was chanting as he crawled on his hands and knees away from the scene. Chalia dove without Sofia’s asking, letting out a growl as the creature raised a claw to grab Fox.
It whipped around, faster than Sofia would have thought possible, given its lumbering size, two nails hooked into Chalia’s scales, ripping at them and eliciting a high-pitched cry from the dragon.
Sofia lurched forward, grasping her feathers tightly as the dragon twisted.
Her fingers lost purchase, and she felt herself falling, the hard ground there to catch her a moment later.
She gasped out, her bones aching even as she shuddered under Chalia’s own pain.
Above her, Chalia twisted in the air, her panic flooding through Sofia, stretching out to her limbs.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Sofia said, taking a deep breath and filling her lungs.
A screech from behind had her on her feet again. The ciervado was almost on Fox. She snatched a bloody dagger fallen on the ground as she ran, feeling the weight of it in her palm—steel, gods be damned.
But it was all she had.
She didn’t think. She threw herself between Fox and the creature, lodging the dagger into its chest where a heart might have been.
“We don’t have iron!” Fox yelled, or perhaps he’d just said it in her ear.
Blood was roaring so loudly in her head she could barely hear. She peered into the darkness of nothing as the creature opened its mouth, hot breath drifting across her face. It was so close—a bloody claw reaching out, brushing against her chest.
She felt Chalia’s roar more than she heard it.
The air vibrated and snapped, and a blast of ice hit the ciervado in the chest, sending it flying back and away. It hit a tree, and the ice encased it, freezing it in a horrific scream of rage.
Sofia panted, heart in her throat, as Chalia landed beside them.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Sofia said. Chalia had only ever created water before.
“I didn’t either.”
Fox’s last companion let out a string of curses, standing at last and darting away from the chaos.
“Shit,” Sofia said. She didn’t know where the rest of the army was, but she wasn’t interested in finding out. “Stop, unless you want this blade through your back!” she called out to him.
The boy turned, face gray as ash as he looked between her and Chalia.
“Help!” he screamed suddenly. Sofia let out a growl as she drew her arm back to throw the dagger. Before she could, a warm hand gripped her wrist.
“Don’t,” Fox said.
She turned on him, throwing everything into her glare. “He’s going to call the rest of your buddies.”
“Nesto,” Fox said, turning back to the soldier who was now glaring at him with unease and suspicion. Fox raised his hands in supplication. “Take a deep breath. I promise she won’t hurt you.” He said these words with a direct glare at her. A silent command.
“She’s the one Harlow’s been looking for. The dragon witch.”
Dragon witch. Now that was a name she could get behind.
“That—thing—is neutralized, for now,” Fox said. “She’s going to put the dagger down, and we’re going to discuss this calmly.”
“Like hell I am,” she said, glaring at him. He met her eyes, admonishment in his gaze. When she turned back, the soldier was gone, and she let out a curse. “That was your fault!”
“Shit,” Fox said.
She heard the other soldier screaming as he ran away and felt the blood rushing in her ears. She moved before she could think, stalking forward and grabbing Fox by the collar, throwing him against a tree as she pressed the dagger into his neck.
He looked somehow even more exhausted than the last time she’d seen him, his eyes a little bloodshot and stubble along his chin. His hair was tied back, but it was coming undone, long pale strands falling into his face.
“I missed you, too,” he said with a lopsided smile. She pressed the dagger deeper until the edge broke skin, a small bead of blood pooling on the surface. He blanched. “Sofia—”
“Don’t,” she said, having to force herself to not press the dagger deeper, her anger washing through her like a tide.
“We need to leave,” Chalia said from behind them. “That human has grabbed the attention of the others. I don’t know how far they are, but they’re coming.”
“You,” Sofia said. “You’re with me.”
She stripped what she could from the dead bodies, throwing the leathers at Fox, but keeping the weapons herself.
Once she had everything she could carry, she pushed Fox toward Chalia.
He threw a look over his shoulder, as if he were regretting leaving, but he didn’t argue as he slipped onto Chalia’s back, giving her a pat along her spine as he settled in.
Sofia ignored the thrill it sent through her seeing him there, and she mounted the dragon.
“Get us out of here,” she said, but Chalia was already shooting into the trees.