I jumped upward, vampire fast, and managed to avoid the burning ball of spell fire headed toward me from the ground. The path I was on, which was more like a bad ladder at the moment because of all the holes, wasn’t so lucky. The part of it just below my feet vanished from existence in a puff of black dust when the spell hit, not being substantial enough to explode. And sent the remaining material, and the three or four fey currently trying to scale it, falling back down to the forest floor.

That should have been a relief, but it wasn’t. Because the stuff I was holding was basically compacted tinder, and it started burning—fast. Leaving me being chased upward again, this time by fire.

And, suddenly, I was making headway, after all. I was making a lot of headway. Not because I was any better of a climber, but because I was sucking at it faster. I caught up to Arsen and pushed on that pretty ass, because we had to move.

“What are you—” he looked behind us. And then said something that didn’t translate.

“If that meant fuck, then I agree,” I said breathlessly. “Go!”

He went. And, as it turned out, he could practically fly when he wanted, even without his mount. Because I was suddenly having a hard time keeping up, even with vamp speed. I watched Pritkin’s head bounce against Arsen’s broad back, his eyes open but unseeing, and only blinking about a tenth as much as they should have.

It worried me, but not as much as the spells, like shooting comets, suddenly flying everywhere. Or that some of them were coming so close, that I was able to feel the heat as they passed by. Or the fact that our ‘ladder’ was rapidly disintegrating beneath us.

I spied Rhea, leaning over the platform above, her wand out, sending spells to throw the fey’s fireballs off course. I saw Guinn, a hand outstretched, commanding the vines that were wrapping up pursuing fey in the trees. I witnessed Mircea reach back to grab the knife from Arsen’s belt and whip it at a fey I hadn’t seen, creeping up the trees beside me.

But in the end, it wasn’t cooperation that saved us, or skill, or even luck. It was Aeslinn. I heard him bellowing from below, loudly enough to cut through everything else. “No! No! I want them alive! Alive, do you hear?”

The barrage abruptly cut out. But the fire it had started did not, and the whole ladder was now going up. I saw Mircea throw the goat guy over the edge of the platform, and pull himself up after it. I saw Arsen jump the last few yards with Pritkin thrown over his shoulder, as if he had springs on his feet. I saw the rest of the tinder-like surface go up in flames—

And then I fell.