Page 103 of Fires of the Forsaken
“No!” I screamed, wrenching at my poleaxe until it came free with a wet pop. “Get off of her!”I ran to her side, swinging my poleaxe over my head. The first strike was a swing and a miss. But the second was a home run, slicing through the hellhound’s throat.
As the hound died, it snarled and savagely bit the poleaxe handle. ThankfuckI had a long weapon. Because if those massive fangs had snapped around my arm, I would’ve been picking the disembodied limb off the ground.
But the hound only managed to put two small punctures in the handle before it slid lifelessly out of the saddle.
“Sacrifice!” I called. Blood streamed from the gaping wounds on Sacrifice’s neck. But before I could snatch the reins, she ducked sideways, galloping headlong into the battle.
Without me.
“Fuck.” I clutched my poleaxe and spun around. I couldn’t see a single human—
Well, not true. There were plenty of bodies on the ground. So, to amend my original statement, I couldn’t see a singlelivinghuman. Just the hellhounds. And the Wraiths. And those awful, red-eyed Púcas.
“Addie!” Cheriour’s voice sounded like it was miles away. “Hold on!”
From an even further distance, I heard Belanna screaming, “They’re at the gates! We need to drive them back—oi, I didn’t say forusto go back! Forward, ye bloody fecking cowards!”
Other shouts drifted over to me. Commands. Cries for help. Agonized warbles. But I couldn’t see anyone.
It was like I’d been transported out of this world and into a place where humans didn’t exist.
“Keep moving!” Cheriour called.
I blinked. Oh, fuckinghell. I had four hounds encircling me. Like sharks, swimming around their prey.
Ready or not, it was Go Time.
A hellhound jumped at me. I shuffled back and raised my poleaxe, shielding my face. The animal’s teeth scraped against the handle. With a grunt, I shoved my weight into its chest, sending it sprawling onto its side. The hound growled and sprang into the air, getting ready to pounce on my shoulders—
Thwack.
The head of my poleaxe sliced its belly. A hit that was 100% pure luck. But I claimed the victory anyway.
“Take that, ya creepy douchenozzle,” I hissed as the hellhound crumbled.
The other hounds hunched down, snarled, and prepared to dogpile (har, har) on top of me.
I swung my axe at one and sliced its chest, stabbed a second, and…
Whoosh! Thunk.
ThankChristfor Cheriour and his knives. Because that final hound had been at my back, preparing to take my head off. I never would’ve pivoted in time to protect myself. But Cheriour’s knife now protruded between the ridges of the hound’s spine and the creature was so busy howling in pain, it had forgotten about me.
I’d survived the first few minutes of this battle.Barely.But I was still breathing. I had to keep this going. Had to keep moving. Had to…
“Addie!”
Cheriour’s voice cracked. I glimpsed him, still on his horse, several yards away. Fighting (literally) to get to me. Beneath the blood already slopped across his cheeks, his face had gone white.
Hoofbeats echoed behind me.
I turned, digging my sweaty fingers into the handle of my poleaxe, and saw the Púca. It was too close and moving too fast. The Wraith riding it had its arm outstretched, clawed fingers reaching toward me.
I froze.
There wasn’t enough time, wasn’t enough space, for me to doanything. This was it. The end.
With a bellowing roar, the Púca slammed on the brakes. Mud sprayed from beneath its hooves. Its hindquarters sank and, when the Wraith yelled and kicked, the horse flung itself up into a full-fledged backflip and landed with an earth-rumblingthudon top of its rider.
