"Stars damn it!" The tall, golden-haired warrior spat. "We're bloody Vir Requis. We're warriors." She pounded her fist into her palm. "We could have slain those sheep-shagging sons of shite-eating whores."

Laira nodded. "Perhaps. And their cries would have alerted the others." She glanced up at the sky. "They're still flying somewhere up there, seeking us. A thousand of them. Maybe more. With that smoke they can spit out, they're probably even deadlier than demons."

"And we're deadlier still." Maev drew her sword and swung the blade around. "I could crush a thousand of them. I'll slice them to ribbons. I—"

"Maev!" Laira grabbed the woman's wrist and pulled down her sword. "These are enemies we cannot fight. Not just the two of us. You saw what they did to Requiem." Laira winced, remembering the bloodshed. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "You saw how many they killed. Maybe . . . maybe they killed everyone else. Maybe we're alone."

Maev's eyes softened and she sheathed her sword. She held Laira's shoulder awkwardly, keeping two feet of air between them. "I don't believe that. They couldn't have killed King Aeternum. My father is the greatest warrior I know. They couldn't have killed Dorvin, that fool of a boy. He's tougher than he looks, that pup. They're still alive, maybe many of them, somewhere in this forest, or in the mountains, or the plains, or . . ." Maev sighed. "They could be anywhere. But I believe they live, Laira. I will not believe that we're the only two left."

Dry leaves glided around them. Oaks, maples, birches, and pines spread as far as the eye could see. Laira lowered her head and clasped her hands behind her back.

I miss you, Jeid, she thought, eyes stinging. My husband. My beloved.

Laira had loved few people in her life; this life of hardship had presented her with few opportunities to love. She loved her mother; the woman had burned upon the stake. She loved her brother; he had taken his life, too fearful of their father. She loved her sister; now Issari was missing in the south. And as much as anyone, Laira loved her husband, her dear Jeid. She thought of the tall, gruff man with his bushy beard and brown eyes, with the kindness she saw in him, the strength in his wide arms and his soul. He was a lumbering bear of a man, so strong and frightening to many, but to her he was a gentle soul, a pillar of strength and a warm cloak of comfort.

Please, stars of Requiem, don't let me lose Jeid too.

Maev hawked—a ridiculously loud and long sound—and spat. "Come on. Let's go find the others." She began to shift, green scales emerging upon her.

Laira grabbed the young woman in mid-transformation, tugging her back into human form. "No flying! Too many sphinxes in the sky."

Maev's eyes widened. "No flying? Bloody stars!"