“Of course,” he said. “I didn’t know that was an option.”
“It wasn’t,” Light said apologetically. “We both know what happens when you drive anything with wheels.”
“I crash,” Shadow said. “But it’s so worth it.”
“Can you keep them off us?” Willow called, her voice tense.
They bounced over dead fiends and ruts in the earth. Trees had been torn up, their giant logs forming a labyrinthine network of large holes, fallen trees, and giant roots. Willow yanked on the reins, turning them away from the city because the wagon wouldn’t fit through a gap. The cavalry continued on, leaving Light’s wagon more exposed.
“We need to get out of here!” Elenyr called.
Sipers turned on them as they circled the city, and Light swung his carver, slicing through the next rank of fiends. But thousands were filling their wake, with more coming. Several quare got past Light and leapt for the wolfsteeds, but such an assault was a mistake, as the wolf part of the horses snapped at the quare, their jaws clamping shut.
“I told you they were useful,” Light called.
Shadow rolled his eyes but did not respond as the sipers converged on his side. They darted in, struggling to avoid the shrieking carver. Several got past and charged, leaping for Shadow’s chair.
A splinter arrow exploded from several feet away, the smaller arrows pummeling the sipers, killing them so closely that one fell beneath the wheels. Light raised a hand and waved his gratitude to Rynda as they bounced over the siper body. Rynda made the symbol for Light in the air, making it clear the assist was for Light.
“I don’t think she likes me,” Shadow lamented.
“She doesn’t,” Elenyr said.
Elenyr relinquished control of the carver to Light, who turned in his seat to work both. Elenyr jumped to the back of the wagon and swung her sword, cutting a quare that had caught a grip on a section of the upper shield.
“Look out!” Willow cried.
Hundreds of skorpian spears streaked for their position, the black weapons bouncing off the upper shield, some narrowly missing the wolfsteeds. Light ducked as one came for his head. The sheer volume of spears caused the wagon to tip, and Shadow cast a thread into the haze. The shadow caught a stump of a tree, dropping them back to the ground.
“We’re running out of time,” Willow called.
“Especially now,” Shadow said.
He pointed to the figure that had appeared in their path. The giant form swung his sword in lazy arcs, his armor seeming to absorb the light. Bartoth stepped into the only route the war machine could pass. Then he picked up a stray obsidian blade and hefted the weapon like it was a toy. Leaning forward, he hurled the heavy sword.
Willow yanked on the reins, attempting to swing them up a slope and into the open ground closer to the city walls. The kraka sword caught them on the corner of the war machine, slicing through the mechanism before coming to a stop next to Light’s leg. It lodged in the controls of Elenyr’s carver, severing the magical link. The spinning wheel at the end of the chain went wild, hurtling west before slamming through two kraka and thudding into a tree.
“Hang on!” Willow called.
“Time to get back in the city,” Elenyr said, stabbing a finger at the eastern gates, which had just appeared around the turn. Tens of thousands of fiends had just crashed into the wall, and they died by bolt, arrow, and spear.
“Don’t stop,” Light said.
His own carver responded sluggishly, but he directed it into their path, the chain extending above the heads of the wolfsteeds and darting about. The war machine slammed into the flank of the fiend wave. Elenyr slashed at their unprotected side while Shadow spun his carver about, keeping them from climbing aboard. Despite their efforts, more and more caught the wagon and its wheels. They began to slow.
Arrows flew overhead, quare snapped and shrieked, sipers darted through the haze of smoke from stonesap explosions. Krakas appeared and disappeared, charging the wall. Skorpian spears streaked by, thudding into the glass walls of the city.
Light winced as he saw the breadth of the damage. Cracks spread across the city walls, some so dense the wall appeared white. They’d been fighting for less than an hour, and already the city walls looked like they were about to fall.
He glanced over his shoulder to Elenyr. “How are we—”
A wounded kraka burst from the haze and crashed into the side of the war machine. Already teetering on the top of a slope, the wagon rolled into a shallow ravine between fallen trees, shedding enchantments, gears, and splintered wood on its way to a bruising stop. Light caught a glimpse of a wolfsteed disintegrating, a large root protruding from its flank. He grunted in pain and dragged himself from beneath the broken wagon.
“Everyone alive?” Shadow groaned and pulled himself free.
Light shook the confusion from his thoughts and sought for Willow—and found her half buried in the dirt. Panicked, he scrambled to her side and pulled her free. Blood seeped from a gash in her side, and a wound on her head looked ugly.
“Willow!” he cried.
Her eyes fluttered and focused on him. Then she grimaced and reached to her stomach. He tried to stop her, but she pulled the small hand crossbow from her flesh, the ink pooling in her hands. She raised it over her shoulder and fired.
A quare whined and collapsed adjacent to Light, the bolt through his mouth. Willow grimaced.
“You were always bad at watching your surroundings.”
Elenyr appeared and slashed her sword, killing a siper that found them. She caught the reins of the remaining wolfsteed and slashed the bonds holding it to the wrecked wagon. Then she reached out and pulled Shadow to his feet.
“Shadow, help Willow get back to the city. Light, you need to follow them and make sure they make it. They’re going to close the gates at any moment, so hurry.”
Light helped Willow onto the steed, his worry bordering on panic. Willow slumped against him, and he had to lash her to the wolfsteed so she wouldn’t fall. He’d never seen her so injured. Then Light noticed the urgency in Elenyr’s voice and followed her gaze.
A cloaked figure advanced from the haze, his eyes burning red beneath the cowl. A splinter arrow exploded just feet from his body and he swung the scythe, absently slashing through the missiles.
“Go,” Elenyr said. “I’ll meet you in the city.”
“Are you sure?” Light asked, casting an uncertain glance at Willow.
“Stay with Willow,” Elenyr said, stepping between them and Death.
