Zara Grayson's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

Zara held the burnt contract, but her eyes stayed on Fabin. His father knew both their faces now. Then a howl broke the quiet. Two shapes tore up the lane. Werewolves, fur bristling, claws out. The king had sent hunters. One lunged straight for Fabin. Fabin drew a knife. Too slow. The beast slammed him to the ground. Its jaws snapped near his throat. He shoved a forearm against its neck and held. "Down!" Zara shouted at him. She spread her hands and called. Two crows dropped from the grey sky. They dove at the beast's eyes, wings beating, beaks stabbing. The werewolf jerked back, blind for one breath. Zara chanted fast. Wind ripped from her palms and threw the beast off Fabin. He rolled up, gasping. "The other one." The second werewolf circled behind her. Zara spun and hurled a bolt of green fire. It struck the beast's shoulder. Fur burned. The thing screamed and staggered. But the first one wasn't done. It seized a fallen bolt from the grass and flung it, hard and flat. Not at her. At Fabin's chest. Zara saw the line of it. She threw herself in front of him. The blade grazed her cheek. Hot pain. Blood ran down her jaw. She hit the ground beside Fabin, one hand pressed to her face. Her crows didn't stop. They dove again, screeching, tearing at both beasts' eyes. Zara pushed up to one knee and raised both arms. She pulled every last spell she had and slammed them out at once. A wall of wind and fire rolled across the lane. The werewolves broke. They ran, howling, back toward the palace. The crows chased them to the wall, then wheeled and returned. They settled on Zara's shoulders, feathers slick, breathing hard. Silence. Only her own blood dripping. Fabin knelt beside her. He looked at her cheek. A clean red cut ran from cheekbone to jaw. He touched his own scar, the twin of it now. "You match me," he said. "Don't flatter yourself." Zara wiped blood with her sleeve. Her hand shook. He didn't smile. He didn't look away either. "You stepped in front of a blade for me. For a stranger." "It was aimed at you." She swallowed. "I need you alive to get inside." "That's not the whole reason." He said it flat, like a fact he'd measured. Zara pressed the charm at her chest. It burned warm, still pointing at the palace, at whoever waited inside. But her heart pounded for the elf right in front of her, bleeding beside her in the grass. The charm and her pulse pulled two different ways. She stood. The crows stayed on her shoulders, watching Fabin. "We move," she said. "Before he sends worse than dogs." Fabin rose. He kept close now, closer than before. The wound on her face had changed something, and they both knew it.