I broke into a sprint, blowing past Carrion and flying down the stairs. The smuggler scrambled after me.
"I found you as fast as I could! I didn't know if—I should tell her, or—"
"Just shut up and run!"
"What—what are you doing?" he panted.
"What do you think I'm doing?" I snarled. "I'm saving the fucking fox!"
I'd left him in Cahlish.
Not in Irrín.
In Cahlish. On the other side of the mountain.
The Omnamerrin range was one of the most treacherous, lethal barriers in all of Yvelia. Its slopes were steep, nigh impossible for even a Fae to climb. I knew of only a handful of warriors who had scaled its jagged peaks and survived to tell the tale.
Onyx had been born of snow and ice, but even he shouldn't have survived the crossing. There would have been avalanches. They would have buried him, again and again. He would have had to dig his way out. He would have had no food. No shelter from the cutting wind.
He'd left the safety of Cahlish. For her.
He'd climbed the mountain. For her.
He'd snuck through Irrín and crossed the river. For her.
And now he was being chased across the dead fields of Sanasroth by a horde of feeders. He must have been exhausted, ready to give up, but he was still coming. For her.
And I was not about to let that little fox die.
I sprinted through the palace and down into the Cogs—the multilevel settlement built over the years around the palace perimeter. The cobbled streets were empty for now, but they wouldn't stay that way for long.
Bill.
I had to get to Bill.
The horses despised Ammontraíeth. They couldn't be kept in the main stables. The high bloods kept their livestock there, and a hungry feeder would pull a wall down with bare hands to get to warm horse flesh. Bill, Aida, and two other bay mares had been stabled in an outbuilding five hundred feet from the main yard, just beyond the high wall enclosing the lowest level of the Cogs.
I nearly tore the stable's metal door from its hinges to get to my mount. I didn't bother with bit or bridle. I vaulted onto Bill's bare back and kicked him out of his stall. My faithful friend didn't need telling twice. Carrion hadn't even made it across the courtyard by the time we came charging through the open doors.
"Get back inside!" I roared.
"No!"
"Gods and fucking sinners." I cursed at him in Old Fae as I galloped past, reaching down with my right arm. The idiot clasped hold of my forearm and jumped, vaulting up onto Bill's back behind me.
"Aren't you going to ask where I learned how to do that?" the smuggler yelled.
"No," I snapped.
"Lorreth showed me!"
If he wanted congratulating, he was going to have to wait.
A mile of ankle-deep ash and loose shale stretched out between us and the fox. Normally, horses had to pick a path carefully over the loose, dead ground, but there was no time for that now. Bill snorted and blew, charging at the oncoming feeders; he didn't even flinch.
"That's it. Keep going," I whispered under my breath. "Thank you. Thank you."
I should have made Carrion stay behind. There were more feeders sprinting after the fox than I'd first registered. Twenty of them? Thirty? More than I could face down without access to my magic this side of the Darn, and the male was a smuggler, not a blooded warrior.
The sun had fallen below the horizon, though. And if the light was dim enough for the feeders, then it wouldn't be long before the high bloods of Sanasroth were awake. Without an escort back through the palace, the moron would have been dead in a matter of seconds.
We were gaining ground.
But so were the feeders.
They were perpetually hungry, and it had probably been an age since a living creature had dared to cross into Sanasrothian lands. The mindless foot soldiers of Sanasroth wouldn't allow this opportunity to pass them by for anything.
I could see Onyx properly now. His black-tipped ears were pinned flat to his head as he ran for his life. He launched himself from a rock, soaring through the air, a streak of white against the growing dark, and then his paws were back on solid ground, kicking up a trail of ash as he sprinted.
"Come on," I hissed through my teeth. "Come on. Run."
Less than a mile now. The gap between us was closing... but so was the gap between the feeders and the fox. He was tired, I could tell. His tongue lolled from his mouth, waving like a banner. The whites of his eyes were showing. The little fox was terrified.
I hadn't noticed Carrion was clinging to the back of my armor. With no saddle to grip, he really had no other choice. I bit back an annoyed curse, leaning forward, urging Bill on. Faster he went, faster, never faltering. Not once did he break his stride.
"We're almost there!" Carrion bellowed.
I gritted my teeth so hard my jaw cracked. "Hold on!"
There was no stopping. If we stopped, we died. I grabbed a fistful of Bill's mane and prayed to the gods I hated for the second time in less than a week.
Save the fox.
Save Bill.
Save the fox.
Save Bill.
Please...
White spittle foamed at the feeders' mouths. Their mindless baying filled the air as we drew closer, closer, closer.
Save the fox.
Save Bill.
They were right on top of Onyx now. Only a hair's breadth away. The fastest among them, a male with a filthy, torn shirt, lunged forward, reaching for his prize.
Bill pulled back, rearing, whinnying in terror. His hooves slipped on volcanic glass as he desperately tried to turn away from the approaching threat. The feeder's jagged claws grazed the little fox's fur, and the fox leaped...
Carrion caught him.
...And then promptly came off Bill, sliding backward over his haunches.
Gods and fucking martyrs! "On your feet, Swift!" I roared. The copper-haired prince clutched Onyx tight, scrambling to get up. He moved quickly, but it wouldn't be fast enough. I drew Bill around, reining him in a tight circle, facing him toward the feeders, and dropped from his back.
"Steady, friend. Whoa. Wait for me," I whispered to him. Then I drew Nimerelle, and the killing began. The god sword bled black smoke as she scythed through the air. Where I swung her, necrotic flesh and brittle bone parted like wet paper in her wake.
"Draw that weapon, Swift!" I bellowed over my shoulder.
Carrion was on his feet. Simon, his god sword, was in his hand. Onyx had bolted from his arms and was hiding between Bill's legs now, which wasn't doing much to help calm the horse. Bill stayed close, though, stamping his hooves and blowing, eyes rolling—afraid but wanting to obey.
The tide of feeders would be on us any second.
"Take their heads," I shouted. "Don't fuck this up, Carrion!"
"I won't!" He took up position next to me, adopting a readying stance, and I was struck with a flicker of surprise. The footwork was there. Almost. And when the ravening feeders fell upon us, he didn't immediately die. Shocking.
Silver and Fae steel swept through the air, cutting the bastards down.
I caught most of them. The few that avoided me and targeted Carrion dropped to the ground, too. Most of them still had their heads and were still trying to kill the smuggler, but at least he put them down.
Behind us, Onyx let out a terrified squeal...
Seven feeders.
Eight...
The three Carrion had downed were joined by a fourth. Forty feet stood between us and the next wave of feeders. I grabbed Carrion by the scruff of his neck and shoved him back toward Bill. We'd been lucky so far, but we wouldn't stay lucky forever. I scooped up Onyx and vaulted onto Bill's back, pulling Swift up behind me.
Ammontraíeth loomed ahead—a clenched fist with knuckles for spires, punching skyward out of the mist. Not a palace, but a fortress.
I gripped Bill's mane, sending one last prayer to the gods, and we rode like the wind.
Hell was awake and grinding its teeth by the time we reached the Cogs. High and low bloods alike peered over the obsidian walls that guarded the small city at the foot of Ammontraíeth, their monstrous eyes full of judgment and hunger as Bill trudged reluctantly back toward the outbuilding.
Lorreth was there waiting for us, arms crossed over his chest, a scowl etched deep into his face.
"I swear to all the gods. You leave a room and say you'll be right back. Next thing I know, I see you galloping across the dead fields, charging headlong at the undead!"
Carrion groaned as he slid down from Bill.
"And you? Are you out of your godscursed mind?" Lorreth hissed. He squinted at the smuggler as if he could actually see the stupidity on him.
"Don't mind me. I only killed four feeders and saved Fisher's life." He affected his usual devil-may-care tone, but there was a note of true fear beneath it now. Our near brush with death had had the appropriate effect on him, it seemed.
I was going to kill him. "You maimed them at best," I snapped.
"And the day you save me on a battlefield, I'll put on a dress and dance a fucking jig."
He could have gotten us both killed by following me down here. He'd fucking fallen. If anything had happened to him, then what? Saeris would have been pissed at me.
But...
Onyx whimpered.
He shivered against my chest, tucked into a ball, his glassy black eyes still full of fear. His coat was filthy. Blood matted the fur on his back right leg. He yelped when I ran my hands over the injury, clearly in pain.
There would be time to yell at Carrion Swift later.
"Come on," I said. "Let's just get inside before these fuckers decide to take a bite out of one of us." I looked to my friend. "Any luck finding him?" I asked softly.