Page 34 of The Crown of Moonlight
Enraged barks ring out in the kitchen tower where the cook has taken the dogs for safety.The soldier seizes Flora and pulls her in front of him as he turns to face the noise.Flora arches her neck away from his blade.The sight carves me open.
The Grey emerges from the stable and peers in the direction of the commotion.Seeing nothing, he glances across to where the soldier is holding Flora in front of him like a shield.
Eyes locked on Flora, the Grey stalks towards her.
I know the Greys.The things they do.
Throwing my mind to the shadowed doorway at the base of the stairs, I’m relieved when my body follows.But I’m still too far away, and the soldier would have far too long to kill her before I could reach her.
I stagger upright and search for another shadow closer to Flora.There aren’t any.The soldier has her out in the open, and the cobblestones are steaming in sunlight that streams through a wide break in the clouds.
I pull back into the doorway to keep from being spotted by the Grey as he approaches.The soldier holding Flora has gone pale, his attention fixed on the Grey.Faolan takes advantage of the distraction and draws his sword.Steel rasps as it slides from the scabbard, and the soldier holding Flora whips around to face him, using Flora as a shield, the tip of his blade pressed into the hollow of flesh beneath her chin.
Faolan stops.
My mind races.I’ve seen soldiers like this—caught up in situations they can’t escape.Even the slightest movement now risks Flora’s life.
I’ll need a weapon, every scrap of magic I can summon, and the element of surprise.
Calculating odds, I glance at the Grey.Then I step out into the doorway.
Flora spots me.Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head.A small shake, scarcely visible.She’s telling me to stay back, and damn it, I don’t know why.Every instinct screams at me to help her.
The commotion in the kitchen tower spills into the courtyard as three black-and-white herding dogs bolt outside, teeth bared and bodies bristling with rage.Two bleed from gashes on their backs and haunches.Blood drips from their mouths.
Flora snaps an order, and they run towards her.Then they notice the Grey and launch themselves at him instead.
The Grey barely reacts.Eyes locked on Flora, he lifts his hand almost casually.The dogs jerk to a halt mid-leap, their throats caught by invisible fists of air.Legs thrashing, they hang helplessly suspended.
I flinch towards them, then make myself stop.The Grey is an air wielder, like I am, and his magic will feed on Flora’s anguish.I have to be smarter.
The sound of approaching hoofbeats pulls my attention to the gate.The second Grey—the female—trots across the bridge.So now there are two to deal with.
The first Grey reaches Flora.The soldier still holds the sword at her neck.Her mouth moves, pleading with the male Grey, her hand gesturing to the dogs.
That’s a mistake.She’s shown what matters to her.
The Grey turns his head—a slow, flesh-crawling motion like a carrion crow.Then his hand flashes out.The soldier holding Flora drops to the ground, unmoving, and his fallen sword is replaced by the Grey’s hand clamped around Flora’s throat.
My lungs squeeze shut.Rage roars in my ears.
The Grey whips Flora around and hauls her up against him, her toes barely on the ground.Her eyes are huge, round with fear.
And everything else be damned.I have to help her.
A faint shadow passes behind the Grey as a thin cloud mutes a corner of the sun.I throw myself into it, praying to the Father of Light that it will be enough.
Pain and cold tear at my limbs.The shadow is too thin to accept me.Caught in the in-between, I try to force myself through.The pressure grows crushing.
I should go back.I push harder instead, stuck in an endless loop.Then the air finally sheets flat against my skin, and I’m released into the courtyard.I drop to a knee and drag a thin cloak of shadow over me, concealing myself while I try to pull breath back into my lungs.
The Grey is enjoying Flora’s fear too much to notice me—or to kill her yet.
He turns her face towards the dogs and sweeps his other arm wide, unleashing a magic so ugly that it makes mine crawl beneath my skin.
The dogs fly ten feet, and their small bodies smash against the stone wall of the chapel with a gut-churning crack.They slide down in a heap of broken bones and fur.
They lie still.Then a woman screams.
