Chapter Twenty Lyra #2
“It was an accident,” I croaked, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to reassure her or myself. Fiery pain licked up my side as I instinctively pressed my palm to the wound, trying to keep the world from tilting.
“Felicity, go.” Mandy crouched at my side.
That jolted her. She spun and bolted for the back door, nearly slipping herself as she pelted out into the alley to find anyone with a functioning adult brain cell.
My knees trembled.
“Come on, let’s go.” Mandy slid an arm around my shoulders, surprisingly strong as she lifted me up, guiding me toward the door. “Keep pressure on the wound.”
“Bloody hell, this really hurts,” I whispered. Spots danced at the edges of my vision.
“Just breathe. In… out…” Mandy ordered. Her face was pale, but her voice was steady.
Mandy pulled me through the open back door and into the alley leading to the front of the shop, and I heard a car engine and a familiar horn.
“Lyra?” Sloane’s voice carried faintly over the chatter of noise around me. “What’s going on? You done? Why is Felicity waving her arms like a demented windmill?”
I must have made some sort of noise, because Ruth flew to me and landed on my shoulder.
Lyra? she squeaked, sensing the wrongness in me. What’s happened?
Felicity was in the middle of the narrow lane, hands flapping as she tried to explain to Sloane, whose car idled at the far end with the window rolled down.
“I didn’t mean to. She slipped… and then—”
“Ruth! Watch out!” Sloane shouted.
Above us, on the eaves of the bakery and the neighboring shop, half a dozen owls had gathered, drawn by the lights and noise. They swiveled their heads in eerie unison as Ruth shot out into the open, sword raised, tiny wings beating furiously.
You hurt Lyra? Ruth shrieked, furious on my behalf. Diving through the air with astonishing speed, she drove her wee sword into Felicity’s arm.
“Ouch!” Felicity screeched and whirled, trying to knock Ruth out of the air. “You bloody eejit!”
“Ruth, no!” I wheezed as the screech of an owl made my blood run cold.
To the owls, a glittering, shrieking fluttermouse with a sword must have looked like dinner.
One owl dropped from the roof, wings spread. Then another. And another.
They were a squadron of feathery death planes.
And they all had eyes on Ruth.
Ruth darted left, then right, trying to find cover, panic spiking through our bond.
Too many. Too many, she gasped.
“What the hell is happening?” Sloane shouted. “Ruth! Watch out!”
Before I could scream again, a familiar howl split the air. Flame burst at the entrance to the alleyway.
“Duck!” Sloane shrieked as Blue threw himself through the open car window, wings flaring open. Fire billowed from his mouth, lighting the alleyway with a whoosh of heat that rolled over my face.
I crouched as best I could, wincing as the movement tugged at my side, and Ruth arrowed straight for me, wedging herself in the space between my chin and my neck. I slapped a hand over her, curling it protectively, while my other hand stayed clamped over the wound in my side.
Another blast of flame rocketed over our heads, more warning than weapon, singeing the air just high enough that no owl was actually flambéed.
A feather drifted down in front of my face, turning lazily in the heated air. Above us, the owls wheeled and then broke formation, flying high in indignant retreat.
“I think we’re clear,” Sloane finally said, wide-eyed as she took in the feathery chaos, Felicity’s stricken face, and my hunched form.
I couldn’t bring myself to unravel from my crouch. I was scared to let go of Ruth, in case another rogue owl dove from the sky, and I needed to keep pressure on my wound.
“Lyra?” Sloane asked, a worried note in her voice. She rushed down the alley to my side. “What’s wrong? Is it Ruth?”
“There’s been an incident,” Mandy said tightly, stepping back to give Sloane room.
“With you around? Shocking. What did you do to her?” Sloane demanded, furious, automatically assuming the worst.
“It was me,” Felicity blurted, voice wobbling. “It was an accident. I was trying to tell you. I dropped my knife and she… she slipped and… I stabbed her.”
“You what?” Sloane’s voice leapt an octave. “You bloody eejit.”
“It was an accident,” Felicity cried, tears streaming down her face. “I was trying to grab her. The floor was wet, and everything just—”
“What Lyra needs is help, Sloane. This isn’t the time for accusations,” Mandy cut in sharply.
“Sloane,” I said weakly, and Sloane immediately folded back to me, dropping into a crouch.
“Tell me what you need,” she said. “We’ll go straight to the hospital.”
“Take Ruth. Please. I can’t worry about her getting hurt,” I whispered. Though it comforted me to have her warm, furry body tucked at my neck, her nervous trembles were only making me more anxious about taking care of her and me.
Love you, Lyra. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you in time, Ruth whispered.