Of Spirit & Hope (Forsaken by the Gods Book 1) by T. B. Wiese

Author:T. B. Wiese [Wiese, T. B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: T. B. Wiese
Published: 2023-04-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

THAEIA

I thrust my arm forward, ready to stab my blade into the prazar’s mouth, but it lurches, leather wings flapping erratically, hitting me hard in the side of the head as it falls to the ground. Pain snaps through my neck, but I ignore it. I’m still alive. That’s all that matters.

An arrow protrudes from behind the flared feathers on the giant prazar’s head. It ruffles its body, its screech turning pained as it takes back to the air with a few wild flaps of its wings, battering me again.

Valsan leaps from the back of the horse, a second arrow already nocked in his bow, his aim focused on the prazar. “Run, Thaeia. A prazar this big won’t go down easily.”

I stand, hissing at the burning pain along my back where the prazar must have struck me with its bony wing. Fuck. If only I had magic. If only I wasn’t so gods-damned useless. I nearly fall on my face as I try to get up and pain slices down my back. Gritting my teeth, I stiffen my shoulders. I’m not useless. Saph taught me to fight. She honed my body to be strong.

The giant bird-like creature lands in the trees, the large branch groaning under its weight. Valsan aims up, but Halee sprints through the trees, batting low hanging vines out of her way, waving her arms, Miles right behind her. She screams, “Thaeia! Move! Now! Please. She’s hurt. She’s angry, and her chicks haven’t eaten in two days.”

Sweet, sweet Halee. I ignore the spike of pain shooting up my back, and the warm trickle of blood dripping down the side of my face. Forcing my feet to move, I sprint away in no particular direction—just away from the bird. I hear the flap of leathery wings, and I’m sure the prazar is about to chase me down. Shit. Twenty paces never felt so far. As soon as I’m out of range, the jungle goes silent. I stop, skidding on the rotted leaves under foot, and turn, watching as Halee approaches the tree where the prazar perches, its wings flapping in irritation, its head shaking, its feathers fluffing then flattening.

Halee looks up, and the prazar settles, cocks its head down at her, then with one flap, lifts off the branch and lands on the ground right in front of Halee. Miles grips his sword in his right hand, his left hand raised, ready to unleash his plant magic … whatever that might look like. Good man. His instinct is to protect. But will he let her save the day? Will he let her be the hero? Halee holds up her hand towards Miles without breaking eye contact with the giant prazar. Miles stops, lowering his sword, but keeps his left hand raised. I can’t tell from this distance, but it looks like Halee’s arm is shaking slightly. It must be straining her magic to control a beast so large. Not that I would know how that feels.

My breath catches as the prazar lowers its body to the ground, dropping its head.

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