My teeth mark the leather as I fight the scream working its way up my throat. Ridoc has been shot with two arrows. I can handle this.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” Dain whispers, putting his other hand between my neck and shoulder. “Three!” He rolls my arm forward and I clench my jaw, my eyes squeezing shut as white-hot pain sends stars flashing across my vision and he puts the joint back into place.
The relief from the worst of the pain is instant, and I remove the leather from between my teeth. “Thank you.”
“Never thank me for that.” He lifts my arm above my head, making sure it’s in place, rotates it back down, then bends my elbow, tucking my arm across my chest before sliding his belt off and fashioning a temporary sling. “How is he?” he asks over his shoulder.
“Losing blood,” Sloane answers as an orange claw lands on the ledge where the trap had been and Brennan executes a perfect roll-on landing.
“Are you—” He comes running at me, scanning me for blood.
“I’m fine! Save Ridoc!”
“Fuck.” Brennan levels a look at Dain’s leg. “You’re next.”
“It’s just a graze.” Dain glances down at me. “It just caught the edge of my thigh.”
Brennan crouches next to Ridoc and starts working.
“It’s all right,” Maren tells Cibbe as the gryphon collapses, his head hanging over the edge of the cliff as his cries grow softer. “You have earned an honorable death.”
Another set of wingbeats fills the air, and I face the mist, waiting for Tairn’s disapproving scowl. But I don’t feel him any closer than before.
“You did not ask me to fetch you,” he says sternly.
The mist parts like a scene from a nightmare, and gray, gaping jaws fill my vision, opening wide to reveal dripping teeth that snap closed around Cibbe’s neck, snatching the gryphon from the ledge before falling back into the mist.
My heart stops.
“What the fuck—” Sloane whispers.
“Wyvern,” I manage to whisper, my head swiveling toward Maren and Cat. They’re the only people here who’ve seen one. “Wyvern, right?”
“Wyvern,” Cat replies, her eyes wide with shock. Maren is still as a statue.
“Wyvern!” Dain bellows, and all hell breaks loose.
“We can’t see anything in the cloud cover,” Tairn growls.
“But they can see well enough to eat us!” I can already feel him on the move. Thank gods Andarna is in Aretia. “Get up the cliff!” I shout at Maren, grasping her shoulder with my uninjured hand and shaking her to snap her out of it. “Get Daja up the cliff!”
She blinks, then nods. “Daja!”
Dain yanks me out of the path as the gryphon charges forward, and I can only hope the adrenaline rush is enough to get them up the last couple of ascents.
“I can’t move him,” Brennan says, his sight solely focused on Ridoc’s wounds. “I’m blocking most of his pain, but I can’t move him, Vi.”
“And we’re sitting ducks here,” Sloane mutters, looking at the mist as more riders and gryphons push by.
“Go,” Ridoc whispers, opening his eyes and finding mine. “Get off this trail.”
I kneel beside him and take his hand. “We made a deal, remember? All four of us live to see graduation. We. Made. A. Deal.”
“Ridoc?” Sawyer pushes toward us, his eyes bulging with fear as he brings up the last of our squad and Tail Section begins.
“They can’t see,” Brennan says, his voice tensing as his hands move, snapping one arrow in half, and then the second. “Aetos, the dragons can’t see!”
“On it!” Dain looks up the cliff, and I hold Ridoc’s hand tight as Brennan slides the first arrow out of his abdomen.
“You’re on what exactly?” Sawyer snaps at Dain.
“Cath is relaying to Gaothal that Cianna needs to wield some wind so the riot can see,” Dain responds. “You can’t do anything here, Henrick, so get the others to safety!”
Sawyer clenches his fists. “If you think I’m going to leave my squadmates—”
“Sounds like your wingleader gave you an order, cadet,” Brennan says, his tone flat.
“Take Sloane.” I look over at her as she draws back, clearly offended. “I had to hold Liam while he died, his dragon already eviscerated by the jaws of a wyvern, and I will not watch his sister suffer the same fate. Get up the fucking cliff!”
Sawyer all but lifts Sloane to her feet, and the two join into the steady, hurried march as the clouds begin to thin.
“How powerful is Cianna?” I ask Dain quietly, absorbing the pressure of Ridoc’s squeezing hand as Brennan works the second arrow free.
His tense expression answers the question for him.
The visibility may be improving, but it’s not nearly enough to see what we’re up against, and even if it were, without crossbolts, I’m the best weapon we have.
“I’ve already come to that conclusion.” Gusts of air hit my back from the force of Tairn’s wings.
