Page 172 of Voidwalker
“You’re wrong,” Fi shouted back. “About him. Aboutme. I’m not that person anymore, Astrid. I’m not running!”
“Neither am I, Fionamara!”
She wouldn’t…
Fi flinched at the click.
At the flash of an energy bolt flying across the square.
37
Where’s that smug grin, now?
The silver bolt cut through morning air, striking the Beast’s shoulder. The creature’s howl was ear-splitting.
Astrid spun, her own crossbow unfired, a flush of surprise as she watched the Beast reel, its wound healing in a sizzle of thick hide and black blood. Fi—once she’d recovered her heart out of her own damn throat—traced the bolt’s trajectory, searching for the source of the attack.
Shouts filled the streets of Nyskya.
The quiet shattered, empty avenues unleashing a small battalion into the square: bakers’ sons and forge daughters dressed in the quickest coats they could grab, armed with crossbows still unfamiliar in their hands. No less determined for it. This was their home.
Fi shook in relief. She’d done her job—bought Boden and Kashvi enough time to warn Nyskya of the intruders.
And more.
She ducked for cover as a volley of bolts loosed from every side of the square, quicksilver projectiles striking daeyari flesh, glancing off antlers, snapping against the ground. Their aim needed improving, deeper shots if they hoped to pierce that hide faster than it could heal. Even so, the sheer number of bolts had the Beast backing away, snarling as redenergy sizzled over its skin. Astrid cursed and sought cover in an alley.
“Reload!” Kashvi led her ranks with crossbow ready, dark hair messy after what must have been a mad sprint through the village to raise their army. Her arm trembled as she raised it, voice rasped, but she didn’t bend. “Fire together on my signal.On my signal, you useless—”
The Beast lunged at its assailants.
“Navek!” Astrid shouted.
The derived daeyari paid her no heed. It bounded across the square, uncaring of energy bolts grazing its skull, latching onto a target. Feren, the gangly baker’s assistant Fi had seen wield his first weapons just yesterday, screamed as teeth closed on his arm, a sickening crunch.
Static hit Fi’s tongue.
Antal hurled himself at the Beast, sinking crimson-sheathed claws to the knuckles in the creature’s throat. It reeled. Released its prey. Black blood drenched the snow, a crack of two warring red currents: one slicing, one defending. Watching those bloodstained teeth snap at Antal’s head was harder than it used to be.
“Fi! Catch!”
Kashvi tossed Fi a crossbow. About time. She didn’t want to fight here, didn’t want to see Feren’s face twisted in pain as he dragged himself to cover, but this washerhome, too.Astrid wouldn’t take it from her. Fi Shaped a silver bolt onto the crossbow track, struggling to aim a clear shot of the Beast’s skull as it fought to shake Antal off. If she nicked the wrong daeyari, she’d never hear the end of it.
A zip.
A clang.
“Fuck!”
Fi threw her crossbow to the ground as energy seared herfingers—an enemy bolt strike straight through the barrel. Her own bolt burst on the track, fireworks of silver that left the metal bent beyond use.
She spun on the culprit: Astrid, hunkered in an alley with a smirk.
New plan, then.
Fi screamed and hurled herself at Astrid.
They hit the snow in a writhe of limbs, Fi’s fingers clawing the crossbow, Astrid’s snared in the rainbow swirls of her hair. In the depths of Fi’s memories, they were children tousling on an icy riverbank. Teenagers tangled in hot sheets. Astrid had always emerged the victor, a year older and fierce with slender sinew. Now, Fi held her own. After wrestling a daeyari, even Astrid’s worst snarls didn’t seem so harrowing.
