My heart thuds a wild beat inside me as I try to find a way through this.
We can’t rise above the haze because I won’t be able to hold on to Hagan that long.
We can’t land, either, because then the trainees will have a clear shot, which they could take before they realize they’re shooting at Nathaniel.
There’s only one way we’ll survive this.
It will only make them hate me more, but I have no choice.
Chapter 4
“Treble!” I scream. “Rise and drop!”
Treble knows the maneuver I’m talking about. He and I have trained in every possible aerial tactic since I chose him to be my thunderbird. With a thunderous crack of his wings, he sweeps us upward for a sharp beat before he abruptly changes direction and drops into a dive.
Gravity shifts around us.
My stomach drops with sickening speed.
For a moment, all three of us catch air, lifting off Treble’s back, suspended in space.
I only have a moment to act while we’re weightless.
My left arm flies out from Nathaniel’s waist, releasing him.
At the same time, I call my power, digging into the far recesses of the vast, empty space inside me to harness its explosive force. Starlight rushes across my chest, hot and angry, screaming through my outstretched arm and into my hand.
It takes me a split second to aim for the empty patch of field just ahead of where we need to land.
A massive bolt of starlight shoots from my fingers, spreading wide like the rays of the sun. It explodes across the ground in front of the humans—far enough away from them that they aren’t hurt. Close enough to make them dive for cover.
I’ve bought us precious seconds to allow us to land, but now I need to regain control of Nathaniel’s and Hagan’s unconscious bodies.
My right hand never released Hagan. I yank him toward me at the same time my left arm wraps around Nathaniel again, clamping tightly and pulling him against me just as gravity kicks back in.
Screaming with effort, I cling to both of them as Treble descends at full speed, a sharp incline.
The drop is too sharp.
Hagan’s weight falls toward Treble’s neck. My hand clamps tighter around his shirt, but the pressure is more than my body can take.
I scream as the muscles in my right arm tear and my shoulder dislocates.
Treble drops to the ground. He digs in his talons, flattening his body, landing as quickly as he can.
As we pull to a stop, my fingers are somehow still gripped around Hagan’s shirt, held shut even though I can’t feel my hand. The jolt as Treble lands causes Hagan to slide all of the way off Treble’s back, Hagan’s weight carrying him so far that the part of his shirt I grip rips in my hands, tearing up to the seam until it finally stops.
In a flash, Treble extends his wing beneath Hagan’s falling body to halt Hagan’s downward trajectory. Hagan ends up with his feet resting against Treble’s neck while his torso lies across Treble’s wing. The problem is that Treble’s feathers are smooth. Only my hold on Hagan’s shirt keeps him from sliding all of the way off. A fall from this distance could break his bones—even his neck.
Nathaniel has slipped in the other direction—toward my left. I’m keeping him upright with my drawn-up leg partially hooked around his hip, my knee bent beside his torso, my boot now planted on Treble’s back.
Treble quickly extends his wing on the left as well, ready in case I need him.
“Cease fire!” I scream at the humans, my chest heaving. “I have Nathaniel.”
The field smolders ahead of us, the scent of burned wheat filling the air as Nathaniel’s people step out from their hiding places, their weapons aimed squarely at us.
Ten of them break away from the others, running toward me. Their crossbows are raised and ready to fire as they drop to the smoldering ground with military precision and take aim. One of them is Esther, her blonde hair flying and her lithe form agile as she runs and takes up an offensive position on my left, nearest to Nathaniel.
“Esther!” I shriek, unable to keep the pain from my voice. “Help Nathaniel.”
Her eyes widen and her crossbow lowers before it jolts back up into position, resuming her steady aim at me.
She shouts back toward the Bitter Patch, “She has Nathaniel!”
I recognize Christiana’s mahogany armor as she darts from the darkness of the Bitter Patch and races toward Treble. She notches an arrow to her bow—a seamless and expert move—as she runs. Sliding to a neat stop beside Esther, she takes perfect aim at my face.
Her finger twitches on the bow as if she’s about to release it.
It would be a perfect shot through my right eye.
As I sight down the weapon to her face, I’m shocked to see that she still wears Hagan’s mark, drawn in blood on her cheek. I was sure she would have washed it off by now. Her chestnut brown hair is pulled back off her face. The bruise Cyrian gave her yesterday darkens the skin across her cheekbone.
She falters as her gaze passes from me to Nathaniel’s unconscious body. “Nathaniel!” The fear in her voice when she cries his name strikes through me.
“Take him,” I plead, my left arm shaking violently around his chest. I know Christiana doesn’t trust me, but I don’t understand why she hasn’t reached for her brother already. “Take Nathaniel. Please.”
She starts to rise before she reasserts her offensive position, anchoring herself back to the ground. Her wild gaze flickers between me and her brother, but her aim remains steady despite the stormy emotions filling her face.
Esther is equally pale beside her. “Is it a trap?”
Christiana shakes her head. “I don’t know! He could be hurt—dying. But we can’t trust her. She’s already betrayed us.”
Betrayed them? The last time I saw Christiana, she was running into the dark after Hagan made her leave. After that, Hagan and Nathaniel fought, and then I brought them both here. I don’t know why she would say I’ve betrayed them.
“Where’s Mathilda?” Christiana asks Esther. “I need her power. Only she can see the truth.”
“She should be on her way,” Esther says. “She was making sure it’s safe inside.”
Safe inside… Between their comment about betrayal and making things safe, I can only assume that something happened inside the Bitter Patch—an event that has made Christiana distrust me even more than she already did.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” I cry.
Whimpers escape my lips. My right arm feels like it’s completely separated from my body. I recognize Geordie—the man with a mop of blond hair—crouched in position among the trainees on my right. He can see Hagan, but I don’t think Christiana or Esther can. Treble stands too high and Hagan’s lying completely on Treble’s right wing now. Probably all Esther and Christiana can see is my outstretched arm but not whom I’m holding.
Like Esther, Geordie lowers his weapon for a second, but he lifts it again when Christiana shouts, “Keep up your guard! She’s already betrayed Nathaniel. We can’t trust her until Mathilda says it’s safe.”
To me, she says, “I’m sorry, Aura. I can’t risk my people’s lives.”
Agony is making logical thought difficult. “You’re risking Nathaniel’s life! Christiana, you have to believe me—”