Barb Hendee - Rebel Fay

She'd hoped the journey into the elvenTerritories would be different, and now it seemed Leesil would have what he wanted. The outcome was better than she had dreamed possible. Nein'a had been released with no bloodshed, and they were all promised safe passage out of the elves' lands to any destination they chose.

All they had left was the issue of Welstiel's artifact, though Magiere had little idea where to begin. Then they could go home.

Brot'an and Chap led the way, with Wynn in the center. Leesil and Magiere brought up the rear. Magiere wasn't certain how she felt about Nein'a's company, but she pushed the doubt away. Only Nein'a's freedom mattered now-or rather Leesil's relief from his long years of guilt.

"Do you know where you are going?" Wynn called to Chap and Brot'an.

Chap yipped once and tossed his head without slowing. Magiere saw a flash of white in the brush to her right, and then two more of silver-gray among the trees.

"How long have they been with us?" she called out.

No one answered, and they jogged onward at a pace meant for Wynn's short legs.

"How do you think she'll take it?" Leesil asked. "Finally being free?"

"What?"

"My mother.She's been trapped here so long… I wonder if she'll even believe it at first."

"Leesil-" Magiere began.

A hissing in the air broke her attention as Brot'an turned and started to duck.

A darting pale shaft struck the back of his head. He pitched forward and crashed limply to the earth.

Magiere dodged the other way, as Leesil grabbed Wynn's cloak and pulled her behind a tree. Magiere peered back the way they had come. Leesil jerked out one winged blade as she pulled her falchion.

Chap had vanished, but Magiere knew he'd be close by. She watched for movement but saw nothing in the forest.

"He's been shot," Wynn whispered, and started to crawl toward Brot'an's prone form.

Leesil pulled her back.

Magiere couldn't see Brot'an's face, but he wasn't moving. Beside him lay an arrow on the ground. It hadn't sunk in on impact-good fortune perhaps, but that didn't seem likely.

She hesitated at letting her hunger rise, but she did it. As her night sight widened, she focused upon the fallen arrow.

In place of a narrow pointed head was a blunt gray ball of metal. Whoever had fired it wanted Brot'an left alive.

"Is he breathing?" Magiere whispered.

Wynn craned her head. "Yes."

"Aruin'nas?" Magiere asked, and looked back down the path.

"I don't see anyone," Leesil answered.

A soft thud.Magiere whirled back.

A figure clad in gray-green stood between her and Brot'an, with a stiletto in each hand. Amber eyes fixed upon Magiere. Even with the wrap across the figure's face, Magiere recognized those eyes.

Freth charged straight for Leesil before Magiere could move.

Leesil was forced to duck into the open to get clear of the tree, and Freth lashed out a booted foot into Wynn's head.

Magiere heard a snapping sound at the impact. "No!"

As Wynn twisted and fell into the brush, Chap leaped through the leaves above her and closed on Freth.

In the corner of Magiere's vision, someone dropped from above behind Leesil.

En’nish crouched with her overlong stilettos in hand.

Magiere halted in hesitation over whom to go after.

Good fortune was nothing but a fool's faith. If it wasn't the undead, it was the Anmaglahk coming at them from the dark.

Leesil sucked in a sharp breath as Freth's foot collided with Wynn's jaw. The little sage topped into the brush. He heard either the crossbow or the quarrel case on her back crackle under her weight. Then Chap lunged out over the top of her, charging at Freth as Magiere skidded to a halt, looking in his direction.

A glint of bright metal flickered in the corner of Leesil's vision. He whirled to see En’nish coming at him from him behind.

Leesil twisted away.

Her long stiletto pierced the shoulder of his cloak. She turned sharply, her body like the handle of a twin whip. The movement drove her lead arm onward as the other came under and up. The first blade tore free of his cloak, passing his head. The second arced upward for his throat.

Leesil swept his winged blade upward, catching En’nish’s rising stiletto on its top edge. As he brushed her thrust up and away, she seemed to ride his momentum into the air.

Her foot touched a tree trunk, and she pushed off. Leesil spun around as she came down behind him, his blade on guard. En’nish’s long, narrow stiletto screeched along the wing of his punching blade.

She was sweating. Her face was twisted with rage, and the suffering in her eyes was too familiar.

He'd seen it before, as he crouched upon the frozen ground outside of Venjetz, clinging to the skulls of his father and what he'd first believed was his mother. Only the face he saw then was Hedi Progae, who sought vengeance for her father, Leesil's first kill for Darmouth.

He was tired of killing. He didn't want to be anyone's weapon anymore.

En’nish rushed him, twisting like a cat to get inside his blade's reach and strike for his chest or throat.

Leesil spun with her, letting her lower blade skid over his hauberk as he parried the upper one. He slammed his empty hand into the side of her ribs.

En’nish tottered off balance as she swept past, but she pivoted with a scissoring slash of both stilettos to fend him off.

Behind her, Leesil saw Chap raging and snarling after Freth.

"No!" Magiere shouted."Guard Wynn!"

Her voice was thick, her words awkward, and Leesil caught the black disks of her irises expanding. But he feared she might not best Freth even in a full dhampir state.

And En’nish stood in his way.

Leesil swallowed fear into cold dispassion, as his mother had taught him. He had to put En’nish down to get to Magiere-and killing was what he'd been made for.

Hunger rose in Magiere's throat and rushed through her body. This time, she welcomed the ache spreading through her jaws.

Her eyes burned as her sight widened, and the night lit up before her. She swung the falchion with all the speed and force she had. Not an effective attack, unless Freth was stupid enough to think she could block it.

Freth quickly slid back out of the sword's arc and further from Wynn and Brot'an.That was all Magiere wanted from her first strike.

Before Freth could come behind the falchion's swing, Magiere reversed, bringing its dull backside straight around.

Freth winced as it smashed into her shoulder. She bent and turned with the impact, but the falchion's tip tore through her tunic.

They both froze, eyes locked on each other.

All Magiere saw was another murdering anmaglahk with a bloody tear across her tunic's shoulder.

Freth flinched once at the sight of Magiere, and then her gaze fixed with determination.

"Dead thing," she hissed. "You belong in the dirt, buried and forgotten."

"You… don't know," Magiere grunted out, "how to deal with un-dead… and I'm much more."

Freth darted sideways, heading for the nearest tree.

Magiere had seen Brot'an use the same move on a column in Darmouth's crypt, stepping up to spring over her head, and drop behind her.

She chopped downward as Freth lifted a foot.

Freth jerked her foot back in midleap, and the falchion hit the tree's trunk. Bark and wood slivers sprayed off it. Freth extended her foot again, but it landed too high. All she could do was push off and roll back across open ground.

Magiere whirled, blade up, facing off with Freth.

Chap charged from the other side but stopped short, planting himself between Freth and Wynn. He had fought at Magieres side enough to know when to attack and when to stay out of her way.

She feinted low and left, shifted right, and turned the falchion in an upward slash for Freth's midsection. The stroke missed, but Freth failed to get within arm's reach. They spun away from each other again.