The Craven was as fast as the arrow that had struck the barrat, rushing out from between the trees. His torn and ragged clothing flapped as he caught Noah, digging clawed fingers into the Huntsman’s chest as it latched on to his neck. Crimson poured down Noah’s front as he screamed and fell back, dropping his sword as his horse ran, blowing past the guards at the front of our group.

A howl turned my blood to ice, and my stomach seized as it was answered by another and another—

“Shit,” growled Hawke as Luddie turned his horse around, catching the Craven who’d downed Noah in the head with a bloodstone spear.

“We won’t make it if we run.” Luddie flipped the blade of his weapon upward. “Not in these roots.”

Heart thumping, I knew what that meant. The mist was now at our knees, and our luck had run out.

“You know what to do,” Hawke told me. “Do it.”

I gave a curt nod, and then he swung one leg off Setti, dropping to land on the roots. I slid from the horse, stepping down so I wasn’t in the twisted mass. I glanced to see the others doing the same. Airrick spotted the dagger in my hand, his brows raised.

“I know how to use it,” I told him.

He gave me a boyish grin. “For some reason, I’m not surprised.”

“They’re here.” Kieran lifted his sword.

He was right.

They flew from the trees, a mass of gray, sunken flesh, and decayed clothing. There was no time to feel panic. Despite being almost nothing more than skin and bones, they were frighteningly fast.

“Don’t let them get to the horses,” one of the guards shouted as Hawke stepped forward, thrusting his sword through a Craven’s chest.

I braced myself, seeing nothing but blood-stained fangs, and then one came straight for me. Snapping forward, I slammed a hand into its shoulder, ignoring how the skin and bone seemed to cave under my palm, and then shoved the dagger into its chest. Rotten blood spurted as I yanked the blade free. The Craven fell, and I spun, grabbing the torn shirt of another Craven who was making a run for Setti. Shoving the dagger into the base of its skull, I grimaced as I pulled the blade free.

I looked up, my gaze snagging with Hawke’s. He gave me a tight smile that hinted at the dimple. “Never thought I’d find anything having to do with the Craven sexy.” He swung, lopping off the head of the one nearest him. “But watching you fight them is incredibly arousing.”

“So inappropriate,” I muttered, letting go of the Craven. I turned and danced out of the grasp of another. I shot toward it as it grabbed hold of my cloak, slamming the dagger into its chest. It went down, nearly taking me with it

My blade was effective. Unfortunately, however, it required close contact. I quickly scanned the area and saw Kieran moving with the grace of a dancer, a sword in each hand as he took down one Craven after another. Luddie was making great use of his spear, as was Phillips with his bow. Airrick stayed close to me, the mist now to our thighs.

Wailing, a Craven rushed me. Grip tightening on the wolven bone handle, I waited until he was within grasp and then darted to the left as I shoved the bloodstone up under its chin. Sucking in a sharp breath, I took a step back as I willed my stomach to settle. The smell…

“Princess. Got a better weapon for you.” Picking up Noah’s fallen bloodstone sword, Hawke tossed it to me, and I caught it.

“Thanks.” Sheathing the dagger, I turned and struck out, slicing through the neck of the closest Craven.

I loved the dagger, but the lightweight bloodstone sword was far more useful in this situation. Able to keep a bit of distance, I cut down another Craven as my heart thumped against my chest. The back of my leg bumped into something, and I jerked to my right, putting my foot down. My boot slipped into the roots as I swung out, catching the Craven in the chest. It wasn’t a clean blow. I’d missed its heart. I yanked the sword free and shifted my legs to brace myself as I went for his neck.

I’d forgotten about the roots.

Foot snagged, I tripped and tried desperately to catch myself, but I went down as someone crashed into me, knocking me free of the roots. Airrick. He caught the Craven as I fell, tackling him as they both disappeared under the mist.

My head slipped under the fog, and for a moment, there was nothing to see but a white film. Panic exploded in my stomach. My free hand hit the ground. It was too slick under my palm. I was thrown back through the years, to when I was tiny and frightened, my grip on my mother desperate and slipping—

I heard Vikter’s voice in my mind. A warning he’d given me in training at the very beginning. Never cave to panic. If you do, you die. He’d been right. Fear could heighten the senses, but panic slowed everything down.

I wasn’t a child.

I wasn’t tiny and helpless anymore.

I knew how to fight back, knew how to protect myself.

With a shout, I pulled myself free of the memory and pushed to my feet just as a hairless Craven reached me. I jammed the sword forward, slicing into its heart. It didn’t even so much as whimper as its soulless eyes met mine. All it did was shudder and then fall backward. I turned to find Airrick, realizing that the mist had retreated, slipping down our legs and thinning. That was a good sign as I stalked toward a now visible, wounded Craven crawling across the ground toward one of the horses. I planted my boot on its back, shoving it to the ground as it howled. I jabbed down with the sword, silencing it. The mist was all but gone now.

Breathing heavily as Hawke thrust his sword through the chest of the last remaining Craven, I turned to survey the damage. Only five guards were standing, not including Hawke. I saw Kieran and Luddie above a Huntsman who was very clearly dead. I saw the guard whose sword I held, and I knew that Noah had been gone the moment the Craven had sunk its teeth into his neck. I kept turning until my gaze found Phillips. He knelt beside…

Airrick.

No.

He was on his back, both his and Phillips’ hands pressed against his stomach. His pale skin made his brown hair seem so much darker, and there was…there was so much blood. Lowering the sword, I walked over to where Airrick lay, stepping around the fallen Craven.

“Is…she…is she okay?” Blood trickled out of his mouth as he stared up at Phillips. “The…”

Phillips glanced up at me, his brown skin taking on a shade of gray. His eyes were somber as he nodded. “She’s more than okay.”