The Spirit Wilds: Magic of the Green Sage (Fall of the Sages Book 1), стр. 43

Tuni whooped, smiling. Premature.

The knight glared at her, but he wasn’t done. Both hands on his sword, he charged the sage. Oh crap, Tuni thought, panicked. Oh no! She fumbled for another arrow, but he was too fast and the space too short. She wouldn’t hit him in time. In a blink, he was in front of the sage, his sword ready to swing.

“Gayla!” she screamed.

He swung.

But he didn’t aim for the sage. His sword struck her staff, knocking it from her grip. The force tossed her aside with a yelp. Her chanting stopped. The glow disappeared. But Gayla was alive.

Tuni was wild. She finally nocked an arrow and loosed it. It slammed into the knight’s breastplate. It didn’t pierce the armor, but it was enough to knock him back. Tuni was fast, much faster than some knight in heavy armor. She closed the space between them in a few quick strides. Before he could recover, she slid and took his legs out from under him. He clattered to the ground loudly, his armor roaring from the impact. Tuni shimmied around him and wrapped her bow around his neck, holding him back enough to keep him at bay. She was small, but stronger than she looked. And she had leverage. She pinned his arms back. He wouldn’t be able to get up.

“L-let go! You don’t know what yo-ou’re doing. We have… We have to k-kill that thing.”

“No, you need to stop! We can calm it down. No more people need to die.”

He cursed and thrashed, but she held firm. “You stupid wildling!”

“Not a chance. Gayla’s going to—”

But Gayla wasn’t going to. Before the sage could recover her wits, and her staff, the golem recovered, and it was still enraged. It stood to its full, towering height and roared. It sent gooseflesh down her arms.

The golem turned its head to the two women, one still laying in a dazed heap and the other, the knight with the red cape, was just coming to a stand, but she limped. Oh no. Tuni knew what was coming. The knights wouldn’t be able to move. Tuni didn’t like them, but that didn’t mean she wanted to watch them…see them…

…crushed to bits.

With another roar, the rock golem raised its massive, boulder-sized fist and brought it down. The knight screamed and tried to cover the other one with her body, but it hardly mattered. The golem’s fist smashed into them, and the earth shook, sobbing with the loss.

The knight in Tuni’s arms wailed the most heartbreaking sound she’d ever heard.

It happened too fast. It happened too slow.

One moment, the girl he loved was there, and the next, she was gone. Smashed to a pulp.

One moment, there she was, his beautiful Marcella. Dazed but alive. Blood pouring down her face. The spirit blotted the sun, bathing her in shadow. Her eyes went wide. She dove to protect Nessa, though he knew it was hopeless. At the last moment, right before the end, she looked up. Her eyes found his, and she smiled.

The monster brought its fist down, and Dorrick Vane’s world ended.

He roared. It was a sound he never knew he had in him. Primal, violent, animalistic. The pain coursed through him. Everything hurt, and not just from his injuries. His heart had split.

With a surge of strength, he got his arms free, grabbed the bow, and flipped the wildling girl over his head. She yelped. Her back hit the earth hard. She gasped. He didn’t care. He stepped over her and roared right at the monster.

What am I doing? he wondered as he hurtled toward his death. This thing will kill me. He should have regrouped with the others—retreated, got back up—but as he looked around, all he saw were his squires, strewn about like dolls, bloodied and unmoving. Dead too, perhaps? He had no way of knowing.

It mattered little. He couldn’t reverse his course now.

The rock spirit noticed him. It turned to him. Picked up its leg. Ready to stomp him out of existence. It blocked the sun on him, his light about to be extinguished.

And then the wildling girl was there, tackling him to the ground right as the spirit stomped. It missed. The force of the stomp sent an explosion of rock and debris that sent them both flying. They landed hard in a tangle of limbs and curses and pain that left him breathless and woozy. He saw stars.

Dorrick groaned. Tried to move, but there was too much pain. It also didn’t help that the wildling was on top of him. His vision cleared enough for him to find her big teal eyes staring down at him. Her eyes were breathtaking, and Dorrick wanted to pluck them right out of her head.

She’d also saved his life, which was confusing.

“Why… Why did…”

They locked eyes for the briefest of moments. Her lips parted. She took a breath. They both took a breath.

“Sorry about this,” she said. In a blink, she struck him over the head with something hard and everything went black. A part of him hoped that he wouldn’t wake ever again. But if he did, he hoped this nightmare would be over.

Tuni sighed as the knight’s eyes rolled back. She dropped the rock she’d hit him with and crawled off. That was close, she thought, a thought that was quickly dashed when she realized there was a rock golem still on the loose.

She whirled around and put her arms under the knight’s shoulders, ready to drag him out of the way, but she found the golem sitting still, glowing as it had before. Sitting across from it was the sage, staff in hand again, chanting.

It was over. The fight was over.

At what cost, though?

Tuni stood. Her whole body groaned. The knight got the worst of it since she landed on him, but her bones still rattled, and her ribs flared with pain. Nowhere near the pain of when she fell down the hill