Aunwynn pulled back on the whip and jerked Shion off his feet like he was nothing more than a small bag of flour. Shion did not sail loose like Kiranrao had because he had wound the whip end around his wrist and forearm. Instead he crashed into the forest floor with jarring impact.

Shion rolled to his feet and hurtled his knife at the Shade’s body. It whistled sharply in the air and was deflected away harmlessly, clattering into the brush nearby.

The Shade heaved again on the whip and Shion flew up and over in a dizzying arc, landing with a bone-rattling fall onto the mess of roots and packed dirt.

“Go!” Shion said, wincing. Phae wasn’t sure if he was hurt or not. “I’ll catch up!”

The two were connected now. Phae realized that by holding on to the end of the whip, the Shade wasn’t able to disappear and reappear again. Maybe his magic would not allow him to bring someone else when he vanished. Without letting go of the whip himself, the Shade was fixed to that location.

From the radius of the woods, the hounds attacked again, rending the air with their shrill barks, coming to the aid of their master. Tyrus shouted in warning and Phae summoned the words to tame the fireblood in her mind. Shion had kept her safe during the last battle and she realized she was unprotected. The dogs had no eyes and so her Dryad powers were completely useless.

Her fingertips glowed blue and she saw the ravening pack charge into them again, collapsing on all sides, howling and shrieking.

“The Tay al-Ard!” someone shrieked.

Not without Shion! Phae wanted to scream back.

The woods were teeming with the pack. How many were there? Another hundred? More than that? She unleashed the magic in her blood and sent it blasting into the front ranks as they rushed her savagely, barking and snarling. The flames scythed through them, turning their coal-black hide into ash.

Her father stood by her side, his arms raised, his fingers like hooked talons as he sent wave after wave of flame into the midst of the attacking creatures. Phae glanced over and saw that Shion had found his feet again and struck at the Shade with his free hand. He kicked and punched. Nothing swayed Aunwynn. With colossal strength Shion was thrown down, each time harder and harder, as if he were an unripe walnut refusing to be split open. Phae grimaced at the look on Shion’s face. She saw not pain but determination.

And then she witnessed Kiranrao rising up behind the Shade, plunging the blade Iddawc into its back. A sound ripped through the forest—the squealing sound of metal rending wood. It was a haunting sound, a keening rip that made Phae cover her ears as her knees buckled. The Shade arched its back in agony, its jangled limbs contorting into odd angles. The maw on its face opened wide enough to fill the entire cowl and millions of black flecks jetted forth, spraying skyward and disintegrating.

In the end, Kiranrao was left gripping an empty, ragged cloak. Nothing else remained. He tossed the cloak aside.

The hounds turned and bolted, scattering like the moths, like windblown leaves, like the dew frost before a blazing sun.

Shion carefully lifted his head; he was covered in dirt and dried oak leaves. The whip was still lashed around his wrist and body. The handle rested nearby.

Kiranrao tossed the tattered cloak aside, his expression haughty.

“I could have killed it sooner, but I didn’t want to stab you by mistake,” the Romani said. He reached down and helped Shion rise. Slowly, her protector unwound himself from the deadly implement.

“I’m glad you didn’t miss,” Shion said sternly.

Kiranrao smirked. “I respect you, Kishion. You saved the Shaliah. We all need her to survive this place.” He gave her a look of intense interest and gracefully bowed to her. “I am in your debt, Khiara. I look forward with interest to repaying it in the future.”

Khiara’s own neck was lacerated by the barbs of the lash, trickles of blood she tried to stanch. “I gave it freely. There is no debt.”

Kiranrao shook his head. “A promise is a debt. I will repay.” Then he turned to Tyrus, his face full of mocking. “Is that the worst these Scourgelands can send at us?”

“No,” Tyrus said flatly. “We’ve only just begun.”

While Khiara tended to heal the others from injuries, Phae crept up on Shion and brushed some crushed leaves from his arm. “Are you hurt?” she asked him quietly.

He looked at her in surprise, then shook his head no.

She sighed with relief, and he seemed amused by her concern.

“The Shade was stronger than me, clearly. I had a wolf by the tail and dared not let go. He could not hurt me, nor I him. And while I would not die from it, the thought of being gnawed on for eternity by those hounds isn’t pleasant.”