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I entered the door, and threw myself back—narrowly dodging the falling sword.
“Whoa!”
My shout drowned out in the melee. I had enough time to take in cracked, cobblestone lanes; ancient, dilapidated buildings; and the glaring white moon casting long, bodiless shadows over blood-painted streets, before they attacked.
A herd of centaurs surrounded us. Their forehooves flashed out—kicking, stomping, and distracting while their swords sliced the air, eager for a bite of our flesh.
“What the fuck is going on!”
“Ares,” Tycho shouted. Two centaurs hooked him under the arms and carried him away. “Ares!”
“Tycho!”
We tried to run after him. The centaurs got in our way, clogging the street and cutting off the path. Leveling their swords, they fanned out, falling into... battle formation?
“Ares,” I rasped. “Ares! Guys, we’ve been dropped in the middle of a war.”
“Without weapons— Ahh!” Ionna threw herself, flinging her head out of the way of the sword’s path. “What do we do? We have to save Tycho.”
“I can’t use my power with”—Theron hit the ground and rolled out of the way of stomping hooves—“you guys next to me! I have to get through and lead them away.”
“Don’t worry,” Alex called. “I’ll take care of—”
Something streaked through the air, hitting Alex dead-on and snapping his head around. He dropped like a sack of stones.
“Alex!” I dove for him, drawing my dagger. Their blade struck mine and I pulled up, throwing the sword away from Alex’s chest.
Shadows fell over the streets, tipping our heads to the rooftops. Centaur after centaur upon centaur warrior dominated the ledges, drawing their arrows.
“Oh my gods,” Nitsa breathed.
We fell in back-to-back, forming a circle around Alex. The smirks on the centaur foot soldiers were terrible as they fell away, leaving us to the archers.
“Still think it was a bad idea for us to send a scout ahead?” Jason roared. “We could’ve seen this coming. We could’ve been prepared!”
“Not helpful,” I snapped. “We can get out of this. We can save Tycho. We just have to think of something.”
“I’ve got something,” Daciana said, looking toward the sky. “This won’t take long.”
I blinked. That was it. Less than half a second, and the wolf burst out of her skin. She leaped onto the rooftop, taking down half a dozen centaurs on landing, and snapping her jaw closed on two more flailing to recover.
Growling, she threw them both clear across the street where they smashed into the other archers, crushing their defensive line under bleeding, broken limbs.
The foot soldiers roared—enraged. The tallest among them thrust his sword in the air. He was a ripped, muscled man covered in scars and sharing his bottom half with a pitch-black stallion. He let loose a series of clicks, neighs, whinnies, and grunts, then half the centaurs peeled off—chasing Daciana with vengeance in their bloodred eyes.
Only half.
Ionna spun, dodging a fierce jab by the skin of her teeth. “I don’t understand,” she shrieked. “If this is a battle, who are they fighting against? Were they all just here waiting for us?”
Steel flashed, glinting in the moonlight. Vicious pain exploded in my cheek, ripping a scream from my throat. I clapped my hand on the cut, and his hooves fell—smashing my forearm.
Something broke.
“Aghh!” I fell to my knees, my soul singing with pain. Blindly I lashed out with the dagger.
The centaur laughed. Clear, unrestrained, and mocking, the monster howled at the weak, pathetic human waving around her butter knife.
This is no use! I can’t do anything with this thing. I need a—
