as the spring-loaded mechanism holding the bolt snapped forward, hurling it towards Sidaris.
Screaming in surprise and pain, Sidaris pitched forward as the bolt buried itself between his shoulder blades, then flailed backwards, clawing at the bolt but unable to grasp it. Sam kicked him off and rose quickly to his feet. He reached behind him and withdrew a small machete from his trenchcoat. The weapon must have been holstered to his back.
He stepped over Sidaris who was still feebly trying to yank out the bolt. Blueish smoke was wisping out of the wound. The acrid smell of burning reached Winter, making her stomach heave. Sam, his face flushed, raised the machete over his head.
‘Look away, Winter.’
She did so, tilting her head and closing her eyes. It was a futile gesture. The wet sounding WHACK as he brought the machete down was loud enough that her imagination easily filled in the missing visual.
‘Don’t open your eyes!’ Sam said, grunting as he began to drag Sidaris’s body over the dirt. ‘Wait until —’
‘NO!’
The agonised cry rang out through the night, shocking Winter’s eyes wide open. She whirled around and saw Benedict, his face twisted in horror as he watched them from the edge of the clearing. His gaze flicked from the headless body of Sidaris lying at Sam’s feet to Winter holding the crossbow. Slowly Benedict’s features shifted from heart-rending shock and misery to something darker and more frightening.
‘You!’ he hissed, his furious gaze pinning her to the spot. Sam might have been standing over Sidaris’s corpse but it was Winter who seemed to be the main target of the Demori’s rage. She watched him tense, preparing to fly at them, and then remembered the weapon. Raising it with trembling hands, she hoped Benedict wouldn’t notice the crossbow was unloaded. The bluff seemed to work because a flicker of hesitancy passed across his face.
Sam rushed to her side, brandishing the machete at the Demori.
‘If he Travels, move behind me,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Snarling in frustration, Benedict glared at Sam and Winter for a second longer, the look in his eyes carrying a chilling promise that their business was not yet finished. There was a low humming sound, followed by a single thunderous clap and the Demori winked out of existence, the shape of his form briefly haloed in sputtering emerald fire before fading from view. The immediate danger gone, Sam remained tense at her side.
‘It might be a trick,’ he said, turning around in a slow circle.
Winter’s gaze anxiously searched the darkness. She’d lost the Sight during the battle and was too shaky to muster the concentration necessary to activate it now. Seconds passed and Benedict didn’t materialise. Her chest ached painfully and Winter realised she was holding her breath. She let the air rush out of her, and with it any semblance of courage she’d faked. Any moment now she might crumble to the ground. Sam reached over and gently took the crossbow from her trembling grasp.
‘I think he’s gone.’
‘You’re sure?’ Winter asked, her eyes wide with fear.
‘Yes. Anyway, he won’t have enough energy to attack us again so soon. Travelling exhausts them. Are you okay?’ he asked, regarding her worriedly. ‘Did they hurt you?’
She gulped in a breath, trying her best to shake off the numb shock that clung to her like a wet, icy sheet. ‘No. I’m okay.’
Sam nodded, slipping the machete back into the sheath strapped to his back. ‘Good. I need your help then.’
‘With what?’ She sucked in another breath, slowly beginning to feel more in control. Sam’s gaze met hers again, and she didn’t like the grim resolve she saw there. Not one bit.
‘We need to bury the body.’
Chapter 11
They dragged Sidaris (minus his head, which Sam quickly buried) towards the road, leaving a snaking track along the forest floor behind them. It was Winter’s job to try to cover this track, should anyone
Screaming in surprise and pain, Sidaris pitched forward as the bolt buried itself between his shoulder blades, then flailed backwards, clawing at the bolt but unable to grasp it. Sam kicked him off and rose quickly to his feet. He reached behind him and withdrew a small machete from his trenchcoat. The weapon must have been holstered to his back.
He stepped over Sidaris who was still feebly trying to yank out the bolt. Blueish smoke was wisping out of the wound. The acrid smell of burning reached Winter, making her stomach heave. Sam, his face flushed, raised the machete over his head.
‘Look away, Winter.’
She did so, tilting her head and closing her eyes. It was a futile gesture. The wet sounding WHACK as he brought the machete down was loud enough that her imagination easily filled in the missing visual.
‘Don’t open your eyes!’ Sam said, grunting as he began to drag Sidaris’s body over the dirt. ‘Wait until —’
‘NO!’
The agonised cry rang out through the night, shocking Winter’s eyes wide open. She whirled around and saw Benedict, his face twisted in horror as he watched them from the edge of the clearing. His gaze flicked from the headless body of Sidaris lying at Sam’s feet to Winter holding the crossbow. Slowly Benedict’s features shifted from heart-rending shock and misery to something darker and more frightening.
‘You!’ he hissed, his furious gaze pinning her to the spot. Sam might have been standing over Sidaris’s corpse but it was Winter who seemed to be the main target of the Demori’s rage. She watched him tense, preparing to fly at them, and then remembered the weapon. Raising it with trembling hands, she hoped Benedict wouldn’t notice the crossbow was unloaded. The bluff seemed to work because a flicker of hesitancy passed across his face.
Sam rushed to her side, brandishing the machete at the Demori.
‘If he Travels, move behind me,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Snarling in frustration, Benedict glared at Sam and Winter for a second longer, the look in his eyes carrying a chilling promise that their business was not yet finished. There was a low humming sound, followed by a single thunderous clap and the Demori winked out of existence, the shape of his form briefly haloed in sputtering emerald fire before fading from view. The immediate danger gone, Sam remained tense at her side.
‘It might be a trick,’ he said, turning around in a slow circle.
Winter’s gaze anxiously searched the darkness. She’d lost the Sight during the battle and was too shaky to muster the concentration necessary to activate it now. Seconds passed and Benedict didn’t materialise. Her chest ached painfully and Winter realised she was holding her breath. She let the air rush out of her, and with it any semblance of courage she’d faked. Any moment now she might crumble to the ground. Sam reached over and gently took the crossbow from her trembling grasp.
‘I think he’s gone.’
‘You’re sure?’ Winter asked, her eyes wide with fear.
‘Yes. Anyway, he won’t have enough energy to attack us again so soon. Travelling exhausts them. Are you okay?’ he asked, regarding her worriedly. ‘Did they hurt you?’
She gulped in a breath, trying her best to shake off the numb shock that clung to her like a wet, icy sheet. ‘No. I’m okay.’
Sam nodded, slipping the machete back into the sheath strapped to his back. ‘Good. I need your help then.’
‘With what?’ She sucked in another breath, slowly beginning to feel more in control. Sam’s gaze met hers again, and she didn’t like the grim resolve she saw there. Not one bit.
‘We need to bury the body.’
Chapter 11
They dragged Sidaris (minus his head, which Sam quickly buried) towards the road, leaving a snaking track along the forest floor behind them. It was Winter’s job to try to cover this track, should anyone
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