Iron and Magic by Ilona Andrews

Author:Ilona Andrews [Andrews, Ilona]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
ISBN: 978-1-64197-035-8
Publisher: NYLA

Elara anchored her magic and pulled herself forward, tracing the faint line of Alex’s prayer. He was still whispering to her under his breath, begging, his voice fading. The tree trunks flew at her.

Behind her Bucky charged through the forest along a narrow trail. The giant horse shouldn’t have been able to run in the woods in the dark, but Bucky pushed on like he was part deer. A weak radiance sheathed his flanks. He almost glowed silver.

She paused, waiting for them to catch up. Expending magic that quickly would cost her, but for now only Alex mattered.

Hugh caught up. She stepped again, then again, moving trunk to trunk.

The line of the prayer anchoring her to the man faded. She stepped again, fast and desperate, in the direction it had come from. Bushes, rhododendron, thick trunks, forest floor, all steeped in shadow.

Where was he? He had to be somewhere around here. Before he fell silent, she was almost on top of him.

“Alex,” she whispered, sending her voice in a wide pulse. It flew through the woods. “I’m here. I’ve heard you. Speak to me…”

Nothing. Bucky burst out of the bushes next to her and Hugh brought him up short. The big horse turned in a circle, as Hugh surveyed the forest.

“Speak to me…”

…

“…shining one…”

He was right in front of her. She dove through the patch of rhododendron, forcing her way through the brush, and burst out on the other side. Oaks thrust from the forest floor, too thick to wrap her arms around. The moon shone above and the air between the trees glowed slightly with a bluish haze.

Alex lay slumped by the roots of the nearest tree. He was always thin, with a slight build, but now he seemed barely a boy, fourteen instead of his eighteen. He didn’t move. His eyes were closed, his head drooped to the side. She dropped to her knees. Blood drenched his clothes, the fabric a solid mass of red.

Where was the wound? She could barely see him, let alone the injury.

Hugh knelt by her. A blue glow sheathed him. She’d seen glimpses of it before in the fight, but now it was obvious, a dense, rich blue, almost turquoise, the magic within it alive and strong, like a river. Hugh’s eyes glowed with the same electric blue.

The glow stretched from Hugh’s hand, sheathing Alex’s body.

She felt movement and looked up. Shadows moved through the blue haze between the trees. Humanoid shadows.

They’d massacred Redhill. They’d killed everyone there, men, women, children. Now they were coming after one of hers.

No.

“You got it?” Hugh asked.

“Yeah,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’ve got it.”

She rose and walked through the forest toward the advancing shapes, making no effort to hide. Creatures slipped through the brush on both sides of her.

A warrior stepped out of the haze twenty-five yards away. As tall as Hugh, he wore scale armor and a helmet that left his face bare. Tattoos marked his cheek. His long red hair spilled in a horse tail through an opening in his helmet and fell down his back.

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