Chapter 41 Rhea #2
The harpy’s body plummets away from me, but I have no time to savor the victory because another screech tears through the air, closer, more savage.
—Behind you! Zephyros warns.
Something slams into my back with crushing force. My Tethers snap, and then we’re falling. Claws dig into my leathers as wiry arms and wings wrap around me like a vise. The animal hisses in my ear, her rancid breath hot against my neck.
—RHEALYN! Zephyros’s roar crashes through my mind, panic and rage intertwining. I glimpse his silver form diving after us.
Wind rushes past as we tumble through open air, the ground spinning below us in a dizzying blur. The harpy’s wings envelop me completely, her body locked around mine so tightly I can barely breathe, let alone move.
“Get off me!” I thrash wildly, but the creature only tightens her grip.
The ground rushes closer… trees, rocks, death all spiraling toward us. This bitch is willing to die to take me with her. My heart hammers out of control. I can’t break free. Can’t summon enough wind. Can’t—
—Breath Bind, Rhealyn! NOW! Zephyros commands.
Breath Bind! I’ve never performed the maneuver. There’s no practicing sucking the air from living lungs with intent to kill. No one would volunteer for that. But I’m falling to my death, and this bitch chose the wrong Skysinger to die with.
I reach inside myself, and—with desperate focus—visualize her lungs, their shape, the air filling them.
Then I clench my fist and squeeze. In the same instant, the Screechclaw spreads her wings to slow our descent, seeming to cower in her own suicidal attempt.
As my power seizes her, the harpy freezes midair, her body going rigid.
Her grip loosens to claw at her own throat, and her eyes bulge in silent horror as the air crushes from her lungs.
But I’m still falling.
The ground rushes up, a patchwork of dead earth and jagged rocks that will shatter every bone in my body. Cold terror floods me.
“No!” I refuse to die like this.
With seconds remaining, I twist my hands beneath me and pull wind from nothing, concentrating it beneath my feet.
The Vortex Lift forms shakily, fighting gravity.
A second later, I slam into the ground, the impact sending pain lancing through my ribs and hip.
But it’s a controlled crash, not a fatal one.
Dirt fills my mouth as I roll, finally coming to a stop against the base of a withered tree.
“Fuck,” I gasp, spitting dirt and checking my limbs. Nothing broken—barely.
Above me, Zephyros roars his relief. Then a warning…
—Look out!
I wipe dirt from my face, scanning in all directions for the Screechclaw, but her corpse lies nearby. My side throbs, as I force myself to stand, using the tree for support, trying to find the threat.
A flash of movement to my right catches my eye. Two harpies burst from behind a massive boulder, sprinting toward me with unnatural speed. Not flying, running, their wings tucked against their backs, their taloned feet kicking up dust.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, quickly gathering wind in my palms.
Before I can form a proper attack, they’re on me. One seizes my arms, the other my legs. They lift me effortlessly, carrying me away from the battlefield with alarming coordination.
“What the fuck?! Not again?” I buck wildly, kicking and twisting against their iron grip. “Is there a special on Skysinger abductions I wasn’t aware of? Maybe a two-for-one deal on stealing women who can control wind?”
Zephyros sweeps close above, roaring a warning. He can’t help, not without risking injuring me. His attacks aren’t subtle.
The harpies’ eyes lock with mine. They seem intelligent, not mindless killers but soldiers following orders.
One hisses something. It’s guttural but it sounds like words.
What?! Harpies talk? They pick up speed.
I twist violently, managing to free one arm.
I slam my elbow into the nearest harpy’s throat, earning a strangled screech but not freedom.
Above us, a silver shadow blots out the sun again. Zephyros sweeping back, his roar shaking the very ground. The harpies screech in panic, but their grip never falters.
But behind him I spot something else: Vaylen on Fragor, his face a mask of determination. He leaps from his dragon in a perfect Vortex Drop, his wind gathering beneath him to cushion his landing. The moment his feet touch the ground, he’s sprinting toward me with fluid power.
“Vaylen!” I scream, renewing my struggle.
He growls as he forms a Wind Spear in his hand, the air condensing into a deadly, shimmering weapon. Hope surges through me. He’s going to kill these bitches and—
The harpies abruptly veer, rounding the massive boulder. My stomach lurches as they suddenly release me. Instead of freedom, I’m falling, tumbling through darkness into a hole in the ground.
“No!” I scream, flailing for something to grab. My fingers scrape stone, nails ripping from their beds.
I plummet deeper, unable to form wind fast enough to catch myself. Terror claws up my throat as I remember the splitting mountain, the darkness. Above, the circle of light shrinks as the Screechclaws push the massive boulder and cover the hole.
“Vaylen!” I reach upward, my fingers grasping at nothing but shadow.
The boulder slides into place with a thunderous boom, extinguishing all light. Complete darkness envelops me as I continue falling. My back slams against something hard—stone—and pain explodes through my body.
“No, no, no,” I whimper, my voice breaking. “Not again. Please, not again.”
The dark presses against me like a physical weight. I can’t see. My own panicked breathing fills my ears.
I roll onto my stomach, biting back a cry as my ribs smart. Every movement sends fresh waves of pain through my battered body, but I force myself to rise onto hands and knees.
“Okay, Rhea,” I whisper, voice trembling. “You’re not dead. That’s a good start.”
Pitch black presses against my eyes. The air hangs damp and musty around me, carrying the scent of wet earth and something else…
something putrid. I extend one hand, fingers trembling as they search for purchase.
My knuckles brush against cold stone. I inch forward, feeling my way across uneven ground.
—Zephyros? I call through our bond, desperation clawing at my throat. —Can you hear me?
—I am here. I sensed your fall. Zephyros’s voice brushes my mind, fierce but also soothing. I will tear this earth apart stone by stone if I have to. There is no way I am losing you again.
Relief floods through me, chasing back the darkness for a heartbeat.
—I’m good right now, I say, drawing calm from him. We both know he can’t dig indiscriminately without risking the collapse of tons of rocks right over my head.
A soft clicking sound breaks the silence. I freeze, a knot forming in my throat. The sound comes again. It’s deliberate and rhythmic. Click-click. Pause. Click-click.
“Hello?” My voice cracks. “Is someone there?”
The clicking stops. Complete silence follows, raking its frigid fingers up my spine same as the clicking. Then… a rustle of movement. Something scraping against stone. Not the heavy tread of a human, but the light, deliberate movement of something else. Something that doesn’t want to be heard.
Fear floods my veins. I hold my breath, straining to pinpoint the source.
Click-click. Closer now. Behind me.
I spin around, summoning wind to my fingertips, managing to form a Wind Dagger, but blind to using it effectively.
“Stay back,” I warn, trying to sound brave despite the tremor in my limbs. “I’ll fucking end you if you come any closer.”
The clicking becomes a wet, guttural hiss.
Oh, fuck! That’s a Screechclaw. In the darkness. With me.