Frea circled the mast and turned her triffon around to face them.
Frea asked Rho as if Isa wasn’t even there.
Rho seethed as he stood up, and Isa saw the flash of Fortune’s Blight as he drew.
she reminded him.
he replied wretchedly, dropping back into the saddle.
she said slowly.
Frea asked them.
Isa replied calmly.
Frea shot back. And there it was again: the fear, like a long thread winding through her every word – Isa couldn’t understand how she had never noticed it before. She felt that if she took the fear in her fingers and tugged on it, Frea would simply unravel into nothingness. Even the silver helmet with its snarling wolf’s head was no longer the least bit intimidating. It was like looking at a child hiding in plain sight with her hands over her eyes.
Another triffon broke off from circling the ship and headed towards them. Frea called back.
he snapped, and turned his triffon back towards the ship.
Isa said impulsively, the words rushing out before she had time to think about them.
Rho called out, and she felt a tug on the back of her cloak. He trailed off as Aeda turned and they both squinted fiercely against the light, trying to keep Frea in view.
Frea screeched. She swung Trakkar around on an intercept course.
she said as she steered Aeda into combat position.
Frea told her.
Frea meant to hurt her, to drive her to despair, and everything she said was true enough – except for one part, and it was was the only part that mattered. she said coolly. She tossed the reins back to Rho and commanded,
He caught the reins and threw himself against the saddle as Frea came on, heaving Blood’s Pride aloft. Isa refused to let herself think about the black water churning below; she trusted to the harness to hold her, and focused all of her concentration on Frea’s sword. She threw every ounce of force she had into her attack: strike; watch; react. The time it took for her sister’s arm to arch back and come at her again felt long enough to contain a whole lifetime. Somewhere underneath it all, she heard Rho shouting in Shadari, ‘Dramash! Slide back – all the way back – and stay down!’
They were just about to slip out of reach when she twisted as far as she could to her left, away from Frea, and brought her hand up past her face and high up over her left ear. Then she swept the blow down and behind her, using the force of it to turn her body almost completely around. But her aim was off; instead of striking Frea’s back, she hit the silver helmet with a clang like the rap of a hammer. The force stung her hand so badly that she nearly dropped Truth’s Might into the ocean, but the helmet buckled and Frea rocked heavily over the side of her saddle. Isa prepared to deliver the decisive thrust, but the triffons had passed each other and Frea was out of reach.
Rho turned Aeda around again into the sun; beneath her cowl Isa felt the heat of the dawn on her face. The colours were so brilliant that they drew tears from her eyes. The wind had carried the imperial ship further out towards the horizon, and Frea’s men were too far away to intervene. Whatever happened now would be played out amongst the three of them.
she cried suddenly as she noticed him undoing the buckles that held him in the harness.
he said. He took Fortune’s Blight and slid it into the saddle-scabbard. By now the straps of his harness were flapping in the air and the stirrups were the only thing keeping him on the triffon’s back. he said, holding the reins out to her, and when she started to sheath her sword, added,
she said achingly. She could see Frea across the sky, readying Blood’s Pride, and she could feel her sister’s fury like a soundless roar.
He leaned forward. The passivity that had always been so much a part of him was gone forever; his assurance was irrefutable and as solid as a brick. he told her, looping the reins around her thigh and cinching them loosely. He gripped her leg and then turned back around.
Instinctively Aeda matched her wing-strokes to Trakkar’s. Up. Down. Up. Down. As they came closer Isa could see the damage she had done. The right side of Frea’s helmet bore a deep indentation and blood was dripping from underneath it onto the collar of her cloak.
This time Frea struck first, and her attack was murderous, leaving Isa no opportunity for anything but defence, no chance to strike back. She was horribly conscious that if just one blow found its mark she was done for. Finally Frea’s sword ground down against Truth’s Might, and then snapped away as Trakkar carried her past.
Now she had time to look back at Rho. He had slipped his feet out of the stirrups and brought them up underneath him. His fine, lean body balanced on the saddle for one long, airless heartbeat. he told her.
Then he jumped.
She caught her breath and watched Rho’s cape, transformed from snowy white to tawny gold by the morning light, swelling out behind him. He wasn’t going to make it – his leap was too short …
But then his foot came down on the tough cartilage of Trakkar’s wing and he used the momentum of its upswing to propel him the rest of the way. He threw himself into the wide space that Dramash had left when he’d moved back, and he’d got one foot jammed into the near stirrup before Frea even had time to react, and the other leg over and secure while she was still trying to get her sword around to strike at him.
Isa looped her fingers through the reins and whistled frantically to Aeda, who sprang forward and executed the same tight little turn she’d showed off earlier, bringing them around behind Trakkar. With the sun behind her everything in her field of vision was soaked with colour, and it was difficult for her to make sense of what she was seeing.
Trakkar was flying erratically, alarmed by the sudden extra passenger and by Frea’s slack handling of the reins. Rho was trying to wrest Blood’s Pride out of Frea’s hands, struggling to break her grip on the sword while trying to keep clear of the blade itself. And in a phenomenal piece of bad luck, his cape had snagged on the stirrup, pulling his shoulders backwards and leaving his left side exposed to the sun.
she called as Aeda pumped her wings and put on a burst of speed, sliding her next to Trakkar. She readied Truth’s Might to strike in Rho’s defence, but as she slipped past Trakkar’s tail, her went heart leaping into her throat: Dr
amash was not strapped in. He was holding on to the leather saddle with both hands, but with each roll of the triffon’s body he was sliding back and forth; if the creature bucked or turned too sharply, the boy would surely be flung off into the sea.
Instinctively she reached out to help him, but she still had her sword in her hand and he ducked away from her in fear. ‘Hold on!’ she shouted, then,
But Rho and Frea were locked together, and if he let go of Frea’s arm now, he would be dead in an instant. Isa changed her grip on Truth’s Might, and then frantically changed it again as she considered the possibilities. With the two so close together, there was no sure way for her to strike at Frea without hitting Rho.
Then she saw the dull hilt of Rho’s knife poking out from under his cape: it was just what she needed, but she had no free hand with which to grab it and in another split-second it would be out of reach. There was no time to sheath her sword.
She opened her fist and let it go.
Truth’s Might dropped between the heaving sides of the two triffons and fell away, tumbling down, shrinking until it slid into the dark water below and disappeared forever.
Wasting no more time, she snatched Rho’s knife from its scabbard and plunged it deep into Frea’s thigh, just a moment before Aeda’s momentum ripped it out of her hand. Frea’s body went rigid with shock, she lost her grip on Blood’s Pride and Rho tore it away from her.
Isa cried, as Rho swung the sword over his head.
he howled in frustration. He heaved the sword through the air, and a line of sparks lit a path towards her as the sunlight caught the turning blade. She reached up and the hilt slapped sweetly into her palm. Then Aeda unfurled her wings and they shot out in front of Trakkar.
Frea’s silent howl of pain and outrage hit her in the back like a savage shove. She straightened up and tried to bring Aeda about again, but manoeuvring was more difficult now that both animals were facing in the same direction. As they turned, she saw Frea yank the knife out of her leg and she called urgently,
But he had already slid further back to strap Dramash and himself safely into the harness, and his seat was precarious: he had only one foot in the stirrup, one hand gripping the saddle, and his back was turned. Isa whistled desperately to Aeda, but the triffon was already doing her best to bring them back into position.
Frea was trying to reach Rho, but she had buckled herself in too tightly to turn around. As Isa watched, her sister yanked furiously at the sliding buckles, trying to loosen the straps around her legs, and finally sliced through them with Rho’s knife.
she called out, hoping to distract her long enough for Rho to get Dramash and himself strapped in securely,
Frea’s rage was no longer rational; there was only a savage hunger to taste the blood of those who had wounded her. Isa felt her sister’s madness sucking at her like a whirlpool, and finally she understood that no mercy, no clemency, would be possible. The part of Frea that had been her sister was already gone.
Isa screamed as Frea finally freed herself of the broken straps and lunged towards him,
Throwing both arms protectively around the boy, Rho kicked back at Frea. His heel caught her leg near the knife-wound and her body jerked in pain, but still she brought the knife back up and slashed at him. He kicked at her again, this time hitting her forearm, and though she kept hold of the knife, Trakkar’s reins went snapping out into the hazy air. The triffon felt the change in the tension on the reins immediately and tossed his head with a worried snort.
Rho fastened the last buckle around Dramash’s waist and yanked the strap tight, then he thrashed around with his foot, trying to find the stirrup again, but he had slipped too far back in the saddle to reach it.
As the unfamiliar weight of Blood’s Pride slid about in her sweat-slicked glove, Isa tried to bring Aeda into battle position, but Trakkar’s flight path was too unpredictable. Finally Aeda found a straight line to him, and she put on a burst of speed and pulled in her wings – but at the last moment, Trakkar jerked around again and suddenly, instead of coming alongside, they were facing him broadside.
Isa warned them all indiscriminately, and stood up in the saddle to give her yank on the reins more force, but Aeda had seen the danger for herself and stretched out her great wings with a snap.
Frea’s dented helmet spun towards them and she thrust out her open hand towards Blood’s Pride as she howled, It was the wail of a broken-hearted child. She tossed aside Rho’s knife as carelessly as if it were a broken toy and reached out with both hands.
Aeda ducked her head to fly under Trakkar’s belly. In one moment, the saddles of the two triffons would be at equal height.
Isa drew in a deep breath and flipped Blood’s Pride around so that her hand was gripping the unsharpened base of the blade. She held the sword out, hilt-first, towards her sister. Time slowed down; each moment had the inevitability of something she had already lived through, many, many times.
The space between the two triffons closed.
Frea leaned out to grab the sword as it came towards her, and Isa held it there steadily for her, knowing that her sister could see or think of nothing else. When Frea’s fingertips brushed the hilt, Isa brought her arm back like a fisherman yanking a line, and Frea lunged for the bait. For a moment she hung there, prone, in the open sky. Then she dropped.
Trakkar’s claws rose up in front of Isa’s face and she threw herself down onto the saddle. A cool wind chilled the sweat beneath her cloak as Trakkar’s shadow passed overhead. And then she and Aeda were diving down, down, following the flash of Frea’s helmet towards the hungry waves.
By the time Frea hit the water, Isa was close enough to feel the spray spatter her face. Aeda dragged her feet through the swells and then opened her wings and soared upwards again. Isa searched among the dipping whitecaps for a gleam of silver or the spread of a white cloak.
Rho called down from above. His words were raw with expectation and dread.
She looked up and saw Trakkar’s black shape against the bright sky.
She had caught a glimpse of the helmet, bobbing far to the east of where Frea had first hit the water; she had been caught in a strong current. Aeda glided towards her. she called out to her sister.
Trakkar’s shadow flicked over the water. Rho asked tensely.
she called out again, ignoring him.
A strange, faint voice answered,
Isa leaned forward and grabbed the reins as close to Aeda’s neck as she could. She played out the slack over Aeda’s side. she told her sister.
she said again, and Isa could feel nothing from her sister except childish simplicity. There was no sign that she had understood anything Isa had just said.
She guided Aeda down as low as she dared and leaned out over her wing.
Frea asked, as if she had just now realised that her sister was speaking to her.
She leaned further out. Now she could see Frea thrashing in the water. She was alternately scrambling with her arms and legs to stay afloat, and pushing and tugging at her helmet. The contrast between the frantic movements and the still, peevish little voice was terrifying.
Isa told her firmly. It’s dragging you down.>
Frea whimpered.
she pleaded.
A wave lapped over Frea’s head and she disappeared.
Isa screamed helplessly.
A moment later she bobbed up again, further out to sea.
Isa cried out.
Frea’s cape fanned out over the water, spreading outwards. The helmet sank first. Then, inch by inch, the cape disappeared beneath the waves.
A curtain of dread came down around Isa, muting everything but her own voice. she whispered.
Rho’s voice held her up like a strong arm around her waist.
A wave slapped up against Aeda’s side and the triffon tossed her head in alarm. Isa gathered up the slippery reins and let her climb back to a comfortable altitude. The ship was far out to sea by now; there would be no chance of any of Frea’s men making it back to the Shadar on the triffons. For the moment at least they posed no threat to the city. Rho and Isa silently turned Trakkar and Aeda back towards the shore.
The sun was warm on her back. She had no memory of having fallen asleep, but when she opened her eyes, her head was resting on Aeda’s bristly neck and the beach was right in front of her. Trakkar was lying in the sand just below the tide line, with the water splashing over his feet and belly. From his exhausted attitude, she guessed that he had refused to fly any further. Rho and Dramash were making their way up the beach on foot. Rho was walking with a pained, lurching motion, and just as Aeda touched down next to Trakkar, she saw him double over and fall heavily onto the sand.
she cried out, tugging at the straps of the harness. By the time she’d undone them and clambered down from Aeda’s back, he had hauled himself back up again. Dramash stood a little way in front of him, watching silently. she called again, running up the beach, the sand pulling heavily at her boots.
he called out to her, and then, just as she reached him, gasped out,
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