“A storm?” Snowfall asked.

“Odd sort of storm,” Simus said slowly, watching as the line seemed to grow larger. It pulsed with movement. He sheathed his dagger.

“Birds?” Snowfall asked, shading her eyes.

“They’re coming too fast,” Simus said. He watched for a moment, uneasy. “Those are no birds.”

“They—” Snowfall bit her lip. “They glow.”

“What?” Simus asked, watching the line with growing unease.

“As if they use magic.” Snowfall seemed confused by her own words.

The herd around him stirred, gurtle heads coming up and looking north. The horses, too, his and Snowfall’s, stopped grazing and lifted their heads, ears flicking nervously.

“Secure your mount,” Simus ordered. Snowfall moved to obey.

The line was larger now, something large and winged, and coming fast. The numbers were massive, uncountable to his eye.

“That dread.” Snowfall pressed her hand to her chest. “It’s—”

Something old stirred deep in Simus’s mind, like a muscle rarely used. He needed no more warning. “Pive,” he shouted as he sheathed his dagger.

All the small herders turned toward him, their bows and arrows out, waiting to defend their charges. The gurtles stood, their heads up and alert.

“Back to the tents,” Simus commanded.

Pive screwed up her face, but obeyed, calling a command to her fellow herders to move off as fast as their gurtles could go. Pive’s ponytail bounced behind her as they ran.

Snowfall mounted, her horse stamping as it sensed the danger. Simus ran to his, and pulled himself up in the saddle. His horse snorted, dancing. “Snowfall,” Simus yelled, as he pulled free the bow secured to his saddle. “Your magic? Permission granted.”

Her glance was puzzled, but then her eyes went wide with understanding just as she turned to face the foe.

It was as if all the Plains had gone completely silent. There was only the wind, and the sound of leathery wings down-stroking against the wind.

The creatures were huge.

The first ones passed over head, paying no attention to them. Simus’s horse trembled, but didn’t move, obedient to his commands.

Simus saw dark, leathery wings, and lizard-like heads topped with long, black, curling horns as they sailed past. Their tails were long and spiked at the end. The downdraft of their flight carried the stench of rotting meat to his nostrils.

They were headed for the Heart. Perhaps they would—

The gurtles milled nervously, then broke as the first monsters flew over. They bolted at a run, away from the threat.

Simus’s stomach sank. The gurtles were following the children.

Two of the creatures hissed and dropped down into the herd, landing on their clawed back legs. One snaked out its long neck, caught a gurtle in its jaws, and tossed it into the air.

Simus watched in horror as the monsters hopped through the herd, lashed out, killing anything that moved. In heartbeats they had killed so many.

One of the monsters launched up, and he heard Snowfall gasp as it soared high, carrying a dead gurtle in each claw as it flew away toward the Heart.

The remaining creature hissed and pinned its prey with long claws, and bent its snake-like neck for the killing blow. The gurtle screamed as it died.

The rest of the running herd collapsed to the ground, disappearing into the tall grass.

Simus couldn’t believe the suddenness of it.

Neither could the creature. It flapped its wings, peering about for more prey, and then focused on the only movement in its line of vision.

Pive and the others.

The children were fleeing, their gurtles continuing to run. Pive glanced back, and even at this distance Simus could see her fear.

Simus cursed himself for a fool. He’d sent those children to their deaths. “Pive, down, down,” Simus bellowed, knowing it was too late, knowing he’d—

He brought his bow up without thought, and launched two arrows, aiming at the creature’s chest.

The arrows didn’t pierce its hide. Didn’t even draw its attention.

The creature hissed, spread its wings, and then gave a hop before it jumped into the air, beating down with powerful wings, lunging after its prey.

 

 

‘Here,’ the power whispered. ‘Now.’

Snowfall didn’t have time to curse at its idea of a warning. She’d only time for one thought. ‘Not the children,’ rang through her head, making her own decision. ‘Not Simus.’

Snowfall clamped her knees around her trembling horse. “Stand,” she commanded as she raised her hands over her head and called the power to herself, seeking a weapon.

The power answered.

Fire danced around her hands, hot, destructive, and eager. She screamed at the monster, and flung a hot bolt of fire at its head. Over and over, one after the other, as fast as she could conjure them.

The first hit the creature’s snout. It shook its head and hissed.

Her horse stood beneath her, terrified but obedient. Snowfall narrowed her eyes, and threw again and again, watching as the creature turned toward her. The bolts of fire hit, and seemed to trail down the creature’s side.

With no harm done.

Snowfall’s heart caught in her throat. From the corner of her eye she saw Simus using his bow, but his arrows bounced from the leathery hide.

The magic...Snowfall could see the glow within it now. The creatures were not using the power, but they used the power naturally.

The monster turned in their direction, lowering its head with a glare, its beady eyes fixed on both her and Simus.

Now the danger was to them, but better her than Simus. It wasn’t even a thought, more instinct that sent one last blast of power right into that hideous face.

“HEYLA,” Snowfall screamed, turning her horse in circles with her knees, waving her arms. “Come here, come here.” She sent out ribbons of light, golden sparkles twirling in the sun as she tried to catch the beast’s eye.

The creature hissed, launched itself into the air, headed toward her.

Snowfall dropped into the saddle, and her horse bolted away. Snowfall kept her seat, both hands high in the air, the ribbons of light streaming out behind.

She had its attention. The creature flapped its dark, leathery wings, gaining height and following.

Even in her panic, Snowfall watched over her shoulder, eyes wide, as the creature used the power to launch itself in flight. What manner of beast?—but she cut that thought off, concentrating, weaving the ribbons from her hands, fleeing away, drawing the threat from the children, away from Simus.

The monster followed, taking flight and gaining.

 

 

He was going to kill her.

Simus almost howled when Snowfall created the distraction, successfully luring the creature away.

He urged his horse after them, and the animal responded with a leap, galloping along. He gripped his mount with his legs, and continued to launch arrow after arrow.

But the arrowheads didn’t pierce, didn’t even make it turn its head to look.

Its prey was Snowfall, and in another few feet—

“Circle,” Simus bellowed. His lance; it was the only hope of a kill.

Snowfall never looked back, but her horse began to turn as it ran. The creature shifted its flight.

Simus guided his horse to run alongside it.

The creature ignored him, intent on its prey. Simus reached for the lance in its quiver. One shot—he’d have one throw.

A tremor of fear for Snowfall passed through him, but Simus pushed it down and away, focusing on the beast, on the wings, waiting for them to rise, to give him that one precious target, one throw at the lungs—

The creature flapped its wings to gain height, and then plunged down with its wings spread high and wide, extending its claws at Snowfall’s back, shrieking its rage—

—exposing its chest.

Simus threw. And he threw true.

The creature screamed, even as its claws plunged down. Snowfall’s horse stumbled, and both she and the horse fell into the grasses.

The creature screamed again, biting at the lance, then it hit the earth, tumbling and writhing, its tail lashing about as it struggled. Clods of earth and grass flew as flailed about, its wings beating desperately against the ground.

“Snowfall,” Simus whispered in a wordless prayer to all the elements. He dismounted and ran forward as her horse struggled to its feet.

He found her in the grass, face-down and limp. His hands trembled as he turned her over, her face bruised and scraped.

“Snowfall,” he called, checking for wounds on her arms and legs, checking—

Her eyes flew open, and she gasped in air, clutching at his shoulders. He pulled her into a hug, relief flowing through him. But Snowfall was pushing him back, and he released her for fear—

She took his face in her hands, pulled him close, and kissed him.

The taste of Snowfall exploded in Simus’s mouth.

Her lips were warm and sweet. Simus closed his eyes, wrapped his arms around her tight and reveled in the pure pleasure of the kiss. But in a breath Snowfall jerked back, her eyes wide as the same thought struck both of them.

“The children,” they both breathed.

Simus pulled her to her feet and they both scanned the grass around them. The creature lay dead, their horses close, but all that was to be seen was grass. The thea tents were gone. Simus took a few steps, his heart in his throat. They’d run in an arc...the bodies...

“Oh skies, no,” Snowfall started to run with him, speaking under her breath. “Skies and stars and sacred fires, please—” Her voice was half sob, her prayer his.

A gurtle head popped up from the grasses, looking about. “Muwaaaap,” it called as it staggered up.

Simus sucked in a breath, running full out. “Elements, please—”

Horns sounded from where the thea tents had been, and warbling cries rose, calling to the children. The pit in Simus’s stomach grew as the wind shifted, bringing with it the scent of blood and death.

“Muwaap, muwaap.” More gurtle heads popped out of the grasses as the herd rose and complained.

Pive’s head popped up as well.

Simus’s knees went weak, stumbling in his relief, but he kept running as four more little heads appeared. Alive. They were alive.

“Praise the elements,” Snowfall choked out.

Simus kept running.

Pive was blowing her horn in response to the theas’s call. She squealed in surprise when Simus scooped her up and hugged her. For just an instant, she hugged him fiercely, and then pushed back at his chest. “Warlord,” she protested, and struggled to be let down.

Snowfall knelt, gathered the others, checking them for injury. Simus closed his eyes in relief. None were harmed.

The gurtles had not been so lucky.

“What were those things?” Simus demanded of Snowfall.

“I have no idea.” She rose to her feet, looking back at the huge, dead monster.

Warriors ran from the thea camp toward them, Seo at the lead. Behind them, huffing and puffing, was Hanstau.

The warriors formed a circle around the children, bows and swords at the ready. Seo strode toward Simus as Hanstau checked the children. Other warriors watched the skies.

“Those things attacked and wrecked our tents.” Seo faced Simus. “I’ve deaths among my warriors, and dead horses.” He nodded toward the huge carcass. “What is that thing?” he asked.

“We don’t know,” Simus said.

“I do,” said Hanstau.