The morning sun broke through the mist and bathed the company in warm light. Rowan focused on the huge dark form of Hathunor as he paced at the head of their column.

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    She was interrupted from her musing as a piercing howl erupted from the trees to their left. Hathunor became a dark blur as he charged into the bush toward the sound, disappearing in an instant and leaving the rest of them in startled suspension.

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    Rowan reached up to draw her sword from its harness, hearing as she did so the ringing sound of other drawn blades. The sounds faded quickly in the mist as the companions pulled into a tight ring facing the surrounding trees.

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    Another howl sounded from within the forest, its timbre raising the hairs on the back of Rowan’s neck. It was Hathunor’s signal to run.

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    “Was that Hathunor?” Arynilas asked from Rowan’s right.

 

    “Yes,” she turned to Torrin on her other side. “He is telling us to flee.”

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    “It’s an ambush,” growled Borlin.

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    “We move. Now!” barked Torrin as he pulled his excited horse around. He slapped Roanus on the rump for emphasis, and Rowan’s stallion surged under her.

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    Trunks and foliage flew by on either side as the mounted company fled. Rowan heard Torrin curse and call to Nathell. Then he was beside her, his sword held low along his horse’s neck. Nathell spurred to the other side and Rowan was flanked.

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    To pass through a small gully, they had to move into single file, and as they did so, a Drae Raken appeared at the exit to the gully, black against the green. Arynilas loosed an arrow to clear the path. The Raken dropped to the ground, but another took its place. Rowan glanced back and saw more Raken closing from behind. She pulled Roanus in from his headlong flight, hauling on the reins as her excited horse resisted.

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    They would have to stand and fight.

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    At that moment, a mass of blackness flew at Rowan from the right. Torrin shouted her name, but she could do no more than register the huge Raken before it struck.

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    The air was punched from her lungs as the beast slammed into her, knocking the sword from her grasp. Warm breath blasted into her face, accompanied by an animal snarl. Then she was falling from Roanus to the stony ground below.

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    Pain exploded through her side as her vision blurred and then swam into blackness. When she came to, the beast had rolled off her and was dragging her into the trees.

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    She looked back in panic and glimpsed Torrin, almost surrounded by Raken, battling desperately, his sword flashing. To his right, Nathell lay motionless on the ground, but Borlin stood guard over him, cutting down any Raken that got too near. Arynilas’s was shooting from horseback, adjusting aim as his mount shied under him. Dalemar was still mounted too, twisting in the saddle, sending fire from his fingertips.

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    Blinking rapidly, Rowan fought to stay conscious. She could barely hear the fighting over the pounding in her ears. Weakly, she reached up, prying at the huge scaled hand that grasped her collar and hair, but her feeble attempts gained nothing. In an instant, her captor would disappear into the forest with her.

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    Reaching down to her belt, fumbling desperately, she freed her dagger from its scabbard and raised it with the last of her strength.

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    The Raken shrieked as she stabbed its hand and abruptly dropped her. The snarling beast turned and loomed above her, raising a massive studded club. Rowan froze, staring wide-eyed as the club plummeted toward her head.

Move! She forced her weak, groggy limbs into action and rolled. Her feint felt agonizingly slow, but to her amazement, the club struck a hair’s breadth from her side. Clods of soil sprayed around her.

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    Suddenly the clash and ring of steel, and the shouts and roars and screams of the battle, flooded back into her consciousness. But there was no time to register how her friends were faring.

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    The Raken howled and tried to club her once more. She rolled again, narrowly escaping another blow. The ground shuddered at the impact as she frantically pushed herself up and stumbled to her feet.

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    But just as she gained her footing, her knees buckled and she almost went down again.

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    One of Arynilas’s arrows buried itself in the Raken’s chest with a bloom of gold on black. The beast stumbled back with a grunt, but it only refocused its red eyes on her and raised the club high again. Rowan didn’t wait for it to take aim. She plunged her dagger into its throat, and the Raken toppled to the ground, its ropy black limbs sprawling and spasming.

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    Arms and legs trembling violently, head swimming, Rowan bent to retrieve her short blade. Straightening with a groan, she turned to see the battle ending, and most of her friends still standing. She took a step toward them and fell again, landing heavily in the autumn leaves. She sat up and shook her head, trying to clear away the dizziness, but it only made the spinning worse.

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    A branch cracked behind her.

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    She sucked in a breath, dread rising in her chest, and turned to see another Raken rushing at her. Panting with effort, Rowan tried to scramble back up, but her muscles wouldn’t work. She cursed her weakness.

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