Page 113 of Fires of the Forsaken
My back muscles screamed when I yanked my weapon free and braced it in front of me again.
The wound on its neck was deep. Ugly. Not enough to kill the S.O.B. though. “C’mon, you sack of shit!” I snarled.
With a low whimper, the Púca backed up a few more steps. It cast me one last reproachful glance before it turned and trotted away.
I stood for a moment, waiting. The Púca would be back. I was sure of it. The fugly bastard was probably giving itself more room to gather momentum.
But it trotted right up the hill. Away from me.
I turned, making sure the coast was clear of all other venomous horses before I dropped to Moira’s side.
“Please, please,pleasedon’t be dead,” I whispered.
Her eyes sluggishly followed my movements. Breath rattled her lungs.
Halle-freaking-lujah!“That’s a helluva hickey you’ve got there.” My laugh sounded high-pitched. Strained. “I’d ask if the kinky bastard showed you a good time, but I think I already know the answer.”
Moira blinked slowly.
“Let’s get you out of here. And then you and I can have a nice long talk about love bites.” I reached under her armpits, heaved, and let out a frustrated“urrggh”when she didn’t budge. “Heh.” I wiped at the sweat on my brow. “This is why weaklings shouldn’t fight in battles. My arms are gassed.” And my muscleswereaching, but that wasn’t the problem.
Moira was rigid. Stiffer than a plank. I couldn’t bend her or shift her weight, so I had zero chance of getting her off the ground.
“Okay.” I patted her shoulder as her eyes rolled back toward me. “Okay, plan B,” I detracted my poleaxe and shoved it into my holster, “I’m gonna have to drag you. It’ll mess your back up, but I’ll get you to the castle. Don’t worry.” I squatted, grasped her inflexible arms, and heaved.
She moved an inch.Maybetwo.
“Addie.” Cheriour stood beside me, wiping blood out of his eyes.
“OMG, perfect timing!” I panted. “Can you get her legs for me?”
Cheriour knelt and touched the top of Moira’s head. “She’s gone.”
“No. The Púca bit her. And she’s gone all stiff…but she’s still alive!”
“She’s not.”
“She is! Look at her eyes!” I glanced down. And my stomach dropped to my toes.
Moira’s eyes had rolled into the back of her head. They weren’t moving anymore. I held a hand in front of her mouth, hoping I’d feel her breathing. I didn’t.
“But you said the Púca venom’s a paralytic! Not a death sentence.” I hissed.
“It is,” Cheriour murmured. “But the Púca took too much blood.”
My stomach heaved itself into my throat as I touched Moira’s cheek. Her verycoldcheek.
Not twenty minutes ago, Moira had saved me from decapitation.
Now she was gone.
I stood, clapping a hand over my mouth. My palm stunk. Like sweat. And blood.
“Addie…” Cheriour rose to his feet.
I turned away, blinking back tears as I muttered a scathing,“Fuck this fucking shithole place!”
And then I stomped off, heading further into the battlefield, praying I’d find at least one person still alive.
