With fast and heavy footsteps, Peter and Geo lean forward so that their legs work overtime bounding up the hill.
For a moment, time stops. When I was ten, my grandfather took me hunting for the first time and we were met by several bears on our trail up the mountain. The look on his face told me everything I needed to know about the danger we were in. When Arek looks at me now, I see the same in his eyes.
This is a deep, centuries old battle between two sides and the battle line is clear. Despite the cold, beads of sweat roll off everyone’s faces. When the pain in my head increases, I close my eyes to keep focused. Then, it relents.
A heavy whistle fills the cocooned sound of a winter’s hell, echoing all the way over the pointed treetops. A searing pain shoots from the back of my head and down my spine as Navin appears, making his way through the men in front of us. If this white oasis can be hell, then he is the grandmaster. Even his eyes, the same as the night in the cab, are void of anything good—his soul seems to have left long ago.
“It’s a waste of time, Arek,” he says. Every word is like an ax to my temples. “Leigh won’t give her any protection except you, because everyone knows where she belongs.”
Arek grins. “You were always scared of her.” I soak in the salve his voice offers.
“She’s a criminal, Arek.” Navin targets me with his stare. “Is it Willow . . . or Remy?”
Weakness shoots through my fingertips, knees, and body, reminiscent of after the attack, and it occurs to me that I need armor. There is no way this can continue. If I am on fire every time he speaks, then where is the end? Clearly there is something I am missing. No one else cringes from his voice. Like an answer to my question, Sassi leans forward and whispers in my ear, “Look away and think of anything else. Don’t let him in.”
I picture the patterns of red lights, and my hand shakily grabs for Arek’s phone that I have placed in my pocket.
Arek steps toward Navin, both taller and more powerful than most of the men surrounding.
“Take your turn, Navin,” Arek growls.
That is enough. In no order, Navin’s men shoot forward. A man jumps over the hood of the car and takes out Kilon’s knees. Any ordinary man would have let that overtake him, but Kilon rolls, shifting his hips till he entraps the man’s ankles, and sweeps him. They scramble to their feet, their weapons tucked forcefully into their palms, and after three crouched steps to the left with calculated surveillance Kilon bursts forward, wrapping his arms around the man’s legs like a bear trap. Hundreds of pounds of flesh crash to the ground and roll like a demolition truck.
Guns fire and bullets fly. This is no schoolyard gang fight. Control, technique, slaps, slices, pulls, rolls, punches, cuts are all in perfect timing. So much so that the fighting seems it might never end.
Beckah is small and agile, while Arek and Navin are fast but have so much weight behind them. The clash of their bodies and weapons shakes the ground beneath my feet.
Arek knocks the knife from Navin’s hand while bending his elbow till it looks to break. Navin winces, just before he pulls the gun from his back. He tries to press the gun against Arek’s temple and fire, but Arek pulls his wrist back and shoves his palm up into Navin’s chin, sending his neck back at an unnatural angle.
Kilon now stands behind a man on his knees, grabs his chin with one hand and his seven-inch blade that tapers to a point with the other, and stabs it just behind the man’s ear. Instantly he falls to the ground, lifeless, even though he belongs to the Velieri. I thought we couldn’t die. Yet then I remember Arek’s words . . . we can, and we do.
Meanwhile, with succinct movements, Arek knocks the knife out of Navin’s hand. Navin jumps for the knife sliding through the snow. Arek turns to Sassi, who stands in front of me with her weapon out and gives a nod. Once again it is as though they have had a conversation.
“Come on,” she says as she pulls my arm.
Unexpectedly, a man grabs Sassi. “Go!” Sassi yells.
Because of the three-foot-high snow, my steps are clumsy as I weave in and out of the cars along the road. Suddenly a door opens. It is so close I cannot stop. My face and body smash against the metal, instantly bloodying my nose as I fall into the wet, and now red, snow. Japha steps out from behind the door with a smile on his face. His arthritic hands are stronger than I expect as he pulls me to my knees.
Everything burns from the cold and the taste of rust is on my tongue. His knife slices through a piece of hair as it comes to my head and his hand grasps my chin.
A bullet shoots through the crowd, hitting Japha in the mouth and splattering blood across the car and my shoulder. I fall against the car door with no ability to brace myself, so my ribs crack and ache instantly. Japha is a short distance away now, covering his bloody face with his hands and searching for his weapon in the snow.
“Get up!” Arek is suddenly above me, pulling me to my feet.
Yet Navin crashes into Arek, sending them barreling down the slanted road. Japha is still steps away, so I quickly turn to run, but my feet fall over each other when pain hits near my spine. It feels like fire entering my blood stream and instantly the muscles in my legs stove up. Once again, the ground becomes an icy landing pad. Flakes freeze on my cheeks as the searing pain continues down my back and leg. I groan. Get it out!
I roll over onto my shoulder just hoping any movement might make the pain disappear. Japha—his face still bloody, pieces of his skin still hanging grotesquely around his lips—slowly makes his way through the snow toward me. Until Kilon is there. Japha shuffles back with shocking hesitation and then disappears behind one of the cars.
I drop my forehead in the snow, unable to hold it up anymore, and breathe in and out. Kilon is only steps away. A hand drops on to my arm from behind me.
“It’ll hurt for a second,” Briston’s voice surprises me.
“What is it?” My throat constricts.
“Just a second,” he says. Instantly, the searing pain in my back lights up brighter, but only for a second. He lifts a bloodied knife, then throws it just feet away as he presses his hand against the wound. “Just give it a moment. It’ll pass.”
Arek rushes back, “We have to go.” He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to my feet.
“Get her to the car,” Briston says. Then he runs away to help Elizabeth.
“Where did Navin go?” I ask.
“Briston brought reinforcements.”
“Navin got away?”
“Yes.” I can hear the irritation in Arek’s voice.
Kilon, who is wiping blood from his knife while standing over a man he has just killed, is still breathing heavily.
“Where’s Sassi?” I take a quick look around.
“She’s a tough woman. I’m sure she’s fine. I wouldn’t want to fight her,” Arek says.
Kilon agrees, “Believe me . . . you don’t.”
Beckah and Sassi soon appear, bloody and sweaty, but ready to go.
