He ran to Scar and leapt into the saddle, heels thumping hard into his flanks as he spurred to the gallop.
• • •
The ridge was wreathed in cloud and rain as he halted a near-spent Scar at its base. He had seen the clouds descend as they rode towards the ridge, far too fast to be anything other than Cara’s work. Mishara was several yards ahead and quickly disappeared into the curtain of rain as lightning flashed somewhere up ahead.
Vaelin hurled himself up the ridge, seeing bodies lying amidst the rocks, the Wolf People’s warriors, all seemingly cut down in seconds. He found Marken’s cat next, slumped and lifeless, the hulking Gifted himself lay a few yards on, bearded features slack and unmoving in the lashing rain.
Vaelin tore his gaze away and forced himself on. The smell reached him first, burnt, acrid, cloying. The stench of recently seared flesh. Cara came into view as he crested the ridge, a small, still form sitting in the rain, pale features staring with wide eyes at something nearby, something blackened and charred but somehow still moving, the part-melted remnants of red armour sticking to the roasted flesh as it twitched.
“Didn’t see it,” Cara said in a whisper. “We shared . . . I couldn’t see . . . It happened so fast . . .”
Vaelin crouched next to her, seeing the blood streaming from her nose, turning pink and dissolving in the torrent. He touched his hands to hers. “Enough,” he said. “It’s done.”
She blinked at him, then sagged, the rain dwindling to drizzle as he caught her. “Lightning,” she murmured. “Didn’t know I could.”
“Cara.” He lifted her chin. “Where is Lady Dahrena?”
Somewhere up ahead he heard Mishara voice a plaintive, forlorn call.
“I’m sorry,” Cara said, voice small and choked. “It happened so fast . . .”
He rested her back against a rock and rose from her side, moving away and following the sound as Mishara continued to voice her mournful cry.
She was slumped on her side next to the rain-wasted remnants of the fire he had built for her the night before, still wrapped in furs. There was no blood, no sign of any injury at all.
He sat next to her, drawing her small, limp form into his arms, teasing the silken hair back from her ice-chilled forehead. “I want to go home,” he said. “I want to go home with you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
She landed hard, rolling with the impact to absorb the shock, but still it left an aching burn in her legs as she surged to her feet, sprinting towards the nearest beast-handler. She was grateful for the crowd’s bloodlust, their roaring excitement at her appearance robbing the handler of any warning until she was nearly on him. He turned just before she whipped her manacles across his face, teeth shattering and lips shredded by the impact, his scream a shrill gurgle as he collapsed to his knees, the chains slipping from his hands.
The three dagger-teeth he had been guiding towards their prey immediately whirled at the sudden loss of restraint, hissing at Reva and crouching to spring. She dived towards the handler, snatching the whip from the strap on his wrist, snapping it at the nearest cat, forcing it back. She raised her gaze, finding the Shield and Allern standing unmolested in the centre of the arena, the two other handlers staring at her in wide-eyed shock. The Shield reacted first, sprinting forward to hack down the nearest beast, the short sword cutting through its neck as its companions howled and lashed their claws at him. He danced back on nimble feet, though not without suffering a trio of parallel scars on his chest.
The fallen handler’s cats lunged at Reva, dragging her attention away. She struck with the whip again, then ran forward, leaping over a slashing claw. She whirled as they pursued, the whip cutting the air with a vicious crack. The dagger-teeth recoiled once more, then paused as one, as if in answer to some unspoken but shared understanding, turning to regard the wounded handler, now attempting to stumble towards a door in the arena wall, hands held to his face as he trailed blood across the sand. The cats gave an identical hiss and bounded after him, one leaping onto his back and bearing him to the sand, whilst the others savaged his legs, their long fangs piercing flesh and bone with appalling ease. His screams were short and the cats soon fell to contented feeding, ignoring Reva completely.
She turned to see Allern attempting to keep the three cats facing him at bay with short jabs of his spear. Their handler, however, was considerably distracted by Reva’s charge, blanching and dropping his chains before sprinting away. He made it to within ten feet of a door before a volley of arrows from the Varitai archers on the upper tiers streaked down to pin him to the sand.
