She gritted her teeth against it, cutting back the other way, backhanding one of the first two eagles as it pecked at her. The large bird tumbled away while the next one wheeled overhead and then dove with a determined screech. It wasn’t fast enough, her arm whipping back and then forward, releasing its payload.

She knew the moment that it left her hand that it was on target, but then—

Another black shape appeared out of nothing, taking the impact of the stone, falling to the ground, dead, before dematerializing into smoke-like mist. How does he conjure ’em so fast? she wondered. And all with his eyes closed, controlling them with such precision. Though it was damn impressive, it also only made her want to defeat him all the more, her natural competitiveness spurring her to try even more random and unpredictable maneuvers.

One of which was to rush toward Mirac, who handed her the stone as she galloped past. Instead of throwing it, she faked a throw, another eagle appearing in her direct line of sight. She pivoted to change her angle and then fired again. Instead of being blocked by another new eagle, one of the ones he’d already created dove from above to take the hit.

Growling, she dove to the ground, hand closing around another rock. She rolled back to her feet and immediately launched it, but it was a weak throw at best, bouncing several times before losing momentum near his feet. Of course, it was only meant to be a distraction, because while she’d rolled, her opposite hand had secured another rock, which she now switched to her throwing hand and fired, only to be blocked by a brand-new eagle. How many was that now? Six? Seven? She’d lost count during the battle.

Drawn out by a combination of her frustration and competitive spirit, perhaps, something surged within her. An instinct. A moment of madness that felt the very opposite of mad in that moment. In fact, it made more sense than anything in her life had in quite a while.

She bolted for the overturned crate she’d been using to train the day before. Screeching, three of the eagles gave chase, while the remaining ones formed up between her position and Jereb’s, as though building a wall of feathers and beaks. The first eagle to intercept her pecked at her face but she punched it away, still charging, churning up dirt and rocks beneath her feet. The second eagle closed in, but she swatted it aside like a pesky fly, setting her left foot down, leaping with the opposite leg, and then planting her right foot in the center of the crate…

And then, as she’d been so many times in the last two days, she was airborne, carried by her momentum and her jump, eagles swarming around her as she fell toward the ground. As she tumbled wildly, she knew it was going to be a rough landing, having never planned to hit at the right angle to take the brunt of the impact through her bent knees.