Free Talon (The Astor Chronicles Book 1) by Amanda Greenslade Page A

through with light, making the ground glow and sparkling dew drops fly off the yellow grasses. Arak and the warhorse emerged from the shadows of the forest behind us, catching up with alarming speed. I squeezed Rekala’s sides with my heels, even though she knew exactly what I was thinking.
    A loud clattering came from our right where two horses and a war-carriage careened toward us over the plain. Standing spread-legged on the back were two Zeikas with silver crossbows. The caped driver was smiling with elation. As we crested a small rise, I could see a supply cart in the middle distance with more Zeikas on board. Others were standing around at some kind of camp site, eating breakfast. Some of them looked surprised to see us, but they quickly set down their meals, gathered weapons and moved to intercept us.
    ‘This is really serious.’ I said, fighting down my panic. The last time I had seen this many Zeikas was a skirmish in the desert a year ago. I had witnessed six of Jaria’s warriors repel a force of twice their number.
    Rekala spun to a halt, kicking up a spray of dew. The chestnut warhorse slammed into us, I hit the ground rolling, and pain blazed in my shoulder. Rekala resumed her natural form and ran at one group of horseback enemies.
    Gasping for breath, I grabbed for the bow and quiver strapped to my back. It was half-crushed from the fall, making it difficult to get an arrow out. The first two arrows missed by a humiliating distance.
    Zeikas surrounded me from all sides. They were closing in at the gallop.
    Arak was trying to get back onto his horse, but he had injured one leg in the fall. I loosed a third arrow in his direction and was dismayed when it struck his horse in the flank. The animal squealed and bucked like a demon, swaying dangerously close to the oncoming cart.
    Its flailing hooves struck one of the carthorses. The carthorse tripped and fell, bringing the entire thing to a sliding halt.
    I took my chance to run, but three Zeika men were coming at me on foot while two others approached from the other side, swords at the ready. I closed my eyes and sought help from Sy-tré, who answered my call immediately. I shifted into my black wolf form, lusting momentarily at the dizzy sensation of weightlessness as the rules of the natural world were defied.
    ‘Fire!’ Rekala screamed. ‘Run!’
    The Zeikas were channelling their magic towards us—with their palms up, green fire spewed forth in streams.
    I turned and fled, panic gripping me as I bounded through the grass. I heard the thundering of hooves behind us. I stretched my four legs until they burned with agony, but the hot breath of the horse swelled behind me. Muscles strained and locked tight, I faltered to the right, and the horse’s hoof clipped the side of my head. White-hot stars exploded in my vision as I pitched over and lay still in the swaying grass, thrown back into my human form.
    As the pain ebbed through my head, I could still feel the quiver of arrows on my back digging into my shoulder. I thought about reaching for the marble-hilted knife at my side, but the Zeikas were upon me too fast, pointing crossbows and polearms at me.
    The horse and rider that had run me down galloped off to help capture Rekala. She had been forced to stop and defend herself. At least two of her attackers lay on the ground, dead, but a third Zeika advanced on horseback. The animal snorted in fear, but the Zeika booted it forward. Rekala raked her claws across its chest, causing it to rear and dislodge its rider. Then an arrow struck Rekala’s tail, pinning it to the ground.
    ‘No!’ I heard the anguished cry from my lips. They’re going to kill my Rada-kin! I rolled onto my side, head throbbing. I sensed Rekala’s rage and knew the pain she was in.
    ‘Stop!’ I cried. ‘Don’t hurt her.’
    So soon. So soon and it would all be over?
    I stood up slowly, bowing and holding my arms out. Tears blurred my vision—I wanted to dash them away because