‘Don’t you dare let me go,’ I say.

‘I’m not letting you get burned,’ he says.

The Pit lord charges us in a halo of flames.

Raffe veers down, avoiding the burn.

The Pit lord turns and chases us. I realize that Raffe is reluctant to turn and face him, because that puts me in the flame’s line of fire.

‘Take the sword,’ I say. We haven’t tested out whether Pooky would take him back. But as he zigzags, avoiding the Pit lord’s charge, I decide this isn’t the best time to test it.

Raffe spins in midair. A wall of fire comes at us as the Pit lord sweeps his enormous wings toward us.

I swing my blade as hard as I can. I can feel the surge of excitement coming through the blade as Pooky gets a chance to cut into a Pit lord.

The blade slices through the fire. A piece of the flames cleaves off and tumbles down.

The Pit lord bellows as he watches a part of his wing crash onto the ground, spraying embers everywhere.

He whips his wings frantically, trying to stay up, but his wings are now uneven, and he begins spiraling. Raffe presses our advantage and flies up to him.

I slice at the first thing I can reach. Another piece of the Pit lord’s wing blazes down.

And he tumbles from the sky.

Chapter 39

39

As soon as we land, I start sweating from the heat. I can’t help but cover my nose even though it does nothing against the rotten-egg stench.

The Pit lord has landed and rolled. The fire in his wings has sputtered out, leaving dead-looking wings that are burned to leathery husks. He’s bleeding from both wings.

He yells a command, and the hellions and Consumed gather near him. The hellions watch their master fearfully, looking ready to bolt any minute, while the Consumed seem insanely excited at the prospect of bodies.

Watchers land all around us, forming a protective circle.

They have no weapons, and most of them have ugly wounds, some of them severe, but that doesn’t stop them from looking fierce. To my surprise, Beliel is one of them. He stares blindly ahead, ready to battle for Raffe.

I look at our crew and compare them to the Pit lord’s gang. I give us a good chance of beating the Pit lord, assuming none of his friends are heading our way to join the fight.

‘Oh, I miss my blade,’ says Cyclone, looking at mine with longing. ‘The damage we could do here if we’d only been able to keep our swords.’

‘That’s exactly why the swords have to reject us, my brother,’ says Howler. ‘Nobody wants Pit lords wreaking havoc with an army of Fallen armed with their swords.’