Spin the Dawn(73)

“Happy as I am that you’re using your scissors,” he said dryly, “I’m not sure if this is the appropriate time to sew something.”

I ignored him and began cutting at the bush in front of me. As the scissors snipped, all I could think of was something to shield us from the furious onslaught of arrows. A minute later, I had crafted a brambly, densely woven thicket around us.

A round of arrows arced into the air. “Get down,” I cried.

Edan and I fell to our stomachs. “I must commend the creative use of your scissors,” he said between breaths.

The arrows pierced my barrier with strident plunks, and I choked back a cry. The thicket was dense enough to trap the arrows within its branches, but it wouldn’t hold for long. “Will you stop talking and get us out of here?”

Edan threw his cloak over me. His pupils dilated, his eyes yellowed. “Stay very still.”

Birds exploded from the trees. Swallows, falcons, hawks—there had to be thousands of them, so many that their wings raised a powerful wind, blowing apart my wall. I covered my face with my hands as the birds flew over us toward our attackers. Wings beat, shrieks echoed, and talons glinted as the birds dove and clawed at the mercenaries. Vachir yelled at his men, who had stopped shooting at us and instead pointed their weapons at the sky. “Push forward! Fire at the enchanter! The enchanter!”

Few listened to him. Dead birds fell, thumping to the ground, and all around them men screamed, clawing at their faces to try to get the birds off. But it was as if Edan had instilled in them some wild, violent spirit. The creatures were mad and bloodthirsty. They moved like a turbulent black haze, following the men who tried to run away. I almost pitied them. Almost.

Edan’s eyes blazed yellow now, and his face had gone very pale.

Then the clouds darkened. Rain pounded from the sky, and lightning struck the trees, making them topple down upon our attackers.

Beside me, Edan crouched, his arms folding over his legs as he began his transformation. Feathers sprouted over his skin and spine. A pair of wings erupted from his shoulders and fanned down across his arms. And with a flash, that familiar golden cuff anchored itself to his left talon.

Go.

He flapped his great black wings and soared up to join the birds, a shadowy fold against the dark sky.

I picked up Edan’s bow and ran toward Opal and Rook. “Come on!” I shouted at them. I vaulted onto Opal, grabbing her by the mane. “To the peak!”

The horses didn’t need a second warning. They galloped at full speed through the storm. I glanced over my shoulder once to see the birds descend again and again upon the men. Their screams grew distant, fading as I left them behind.

I didn’t look back again.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


Edan found me at the base of Rainmaker’s Peak, sitting under a tree, sewing.

I jumped to my feet when I saw him. His cloak was torn, and there was a gash on his cheek. I gasped with relief. “You’re alive!”

He flashed me a disarming grin. “I hope it hasn’t been too boring without me.”

“Where have you been?” I bit my tongue before I blurted that I’d tried searching for him, only the horses wouldn’t take me back to the site of the battle, no matter how much I coaxed them—they’d been hell-bent on reaching the peak and staying there.

“Is that concern in your voice?” Edan teased.

“You’ve been gone a whole day,” I said, more tartly. “I thought you’d died.”

“That was inconsiderate of me,” he allowed, “especially since I’m the one with the map to get us home. But I’m here now.” He picked up the shoes I’d left by my campfire. “Ah, excellent. You’ve finished.”

I threw him a sidewise glare. “All you can do is comment on my shoes? Did using all that magic addle your wits?”

He sat against the tree, his long legs stretched out. Rook trotted up to nuzzle his neck. “At least someone is glad to see me.”

Edan looked thinner. His cheeks were more sunken, and that gash looked like a knife wound.

“I was so worried,” I said, softening.

“I was sleeping,” he confessed. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Tension gathered in my shoulders. “I thought you didn’t have any magic left in you.”

“I’ve stored a little,” he said, plucking a leaf from above. He chewed, then spat it out. “Enough to enchant your shoes and get us to Lake Paduan. And some left over for emergencies. My body paid a price for it, though.” He rubbed his back, then plucked and chewed another leaf. “Aches and pains everywhere. But some willow leaves will help. Good on you for building camp near this tree.”

I hadn’t even noticed the tree. “You could have been killed.”

Edan must have been tired, because he didn’t argue. That, or it was true. “What’s done is done.”

Sitting down beside him, I stabbed my needle into Lady Sarnai’s golden skirt, vexed by his calm. He had saved us. Yet my fear had been so raw. It had punched me in the gut, leaving me with a sinking nausea I could still taste. Not because I needed his silly map or his magic, but because I needed him.

“The moon will be full tonight,” Edan said, unaware of my thoughts. “If you leave soon, you can reach the peak before dusk. The days are shorter here in the mountains, so once night falls, I’ll fly up to meet you on the peak. Will you put down that damned skirt!”