Crush the King (Crown of Shards #3)(104)

The magier drew her hand back to blast me with her fire. I lifted my own hand, reaching for my immunity, even though I didn’t know if I was strong enough to snuff out her power—

A shadow zoomed out of the trees and flew straight at Rocinda’s face. She shrieked in surprise, and the fire slipped out of her hand and exploded against the ground, making the snow hiss as it instantly melted.

I scrambled to my feet. The magier whirled around to me, but the shadow came at her again, and I realized that it wasn’t a shadow at all.

It was the caladrius.

The tiny, owlish bird kept attacking the magier, raking its sharp talons across her hands, arms, and face. Rocinda shrieked and staggered back, trying to summon up more magic to roast the bird in midair, but every time she raised her hand, the caladrius swooped down at her again.

In my hurry to get away from the magier I had dropped my dagger, and I fell back down to my knees, trying to find where the weapon had landed in the snow. The cold crystals stung my hands, but I kept digging and digging through the clumps of snow.

“Die, you damn bird!” Rocinda snarled.

I looked up just in time to see the magier hurl a ball of magic at the caladrius. Rocinda’s aim was true, and the fire bloomed like a red-hot flower against the creature’s snow-white wings, completely engulfing its body. The caladrius didn’t make a sound as it dropped into the campfire.

A shrieking sob rose in my throat. Even though I had only seen the creature for a few moments, it was a shame that something so beautiful had been put in a cage. And now it was dead, just because it had tried to help me.

Icy rage filled me, freezing out my grief. My hand closed over the dagger, and I ripped it out of the snowdrift. Then I got to my feet and headed toward Rocinda.

The magier whirled around to me, another ball of fire popping into her hand. “Come here, girl,” she snarled. “And let me cook you alive just like I did that damn bird.”

But she didn’t wait for me to come closer. Instead, Rocinda reared her hand back and threw her fire at me.

I could feel and smell the hot flames streaking through the air, and I grabbed hold of my immunity, coating my skin with the cold, hard power that perfectly matched the rage beating in my heart. The fire blasted against me, but I pushed back with my immunity, and the flames vanished without even touching my body, much less scorching my skin.

Rocinda blinked in surprise, but she threw another ball of fire at me. And then another one, and then another.

I kept my grip on my immunity, and I snuffed out all her magic. And the whole time, I kept stalking toward her at that same slow, steady, determined pace.

Finally, she stopped long enough to stare at me with wide eyes. “Why aren’t you burned? Why aren’t you dead?”

I screamed with rage and ran straight at her. Rocinda backed up, but this time she was the one who tripped over Caxton’s body. She staggered to the side, still trying to get away from me, but before she could recover her balance, I surged forward and stabbed her in the chest.

Rocinda screamed and lifted her hand to blast me with her magic again, but I ripped the dagger out of her chest and sliced it across her throat. I didn’t really know what I was doing, other than trying to hurt her, but I got lucky and the blade sliced cleanly across her neck.

Rocinda stared at me, choking on her own blood. Then her eyes rolled up in the back of her head, and she dropped to the ground, bleeding out all over the snow.

I stood over her, the bloody dagger still clutched in my hand, breathing hard. When I was sure she was dead, I slumped down to my knees, then plopped over onto the ground.

I didn’t know how long I huddled there, staring dully at Rocinda’s and Caxton’s bodies. Right now I didn’t have the strength to move, much less think about what I should do next—

Hoot. Hoot-hoot. Hoot.

My head snapped up, and I looked around the clearing, wondering who—or what—was making that sound. For a moment, I thought that maybe Caxton or Rocinda was still alive, but they were dead, so they weren’t the ones making the noise.

Hoot. Hoot-hoot. Hoot.

The sound came again, and I realized that it was coming from . . . the campfire.

I looked in that direction, and I noticed that something was moving in the flames. At first I thought it was just a chunk of wood burning, but then I realized the object was shaped like a small bird . . .

The caladrius.

I gasped in surprise, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but they weren’t. Somehow, the caladrius was still alive in the middle of the flickering flames.

My gaze darted around the clearing, searching for something that I could wrap around my hand. But there was no time to protect myself, not if I wanted to save the creature, so I lunged over and stretched my hand out toward the fire. I grimaced, knowing how much this was going to hurt, but I shoved my fingers forward anyway.

The instant before my hand would have plunged into the fire, the caladrius twitched its wings, hopped out of the flames, and landed on my outstretched palm. I jerked back, and the caladrius shuffled around, its talons digging into my skin as it held on to my palm, but not unpleasantly so.

My shock wore off, and I slowly rose to my feet with the caladrius still perched on my hand. The creature ruffled its feathers, shaking the soot and ash off them. A few red-hot embers flickered around the bird, but its feathers were a pristine snow-white, and the caladrius seemed completely untouched and unharmed by the fire.