Someone had just shot it through the skull with a crossbow. The iron bolt was sticking out the side of the monster’s head, black blood already oozing from the wound. Crier whipped her head around to look at the other Automa—just in time to see a second crossbow bolt bury itself in the Automa’s chest and a third in its face, piercing it right through one of the soulless eyes. Crier gasped and looked away, sickened. She heard the splash when it fell.

Was she safe?

Or was she the next target?

Who’s there? she wanted to call out, but she couldn’t speak. Fear had paralyzed her throat. Beneath her, Della was panting with terror, trembling all over, muscles twitching.

She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. There came a shout, and then humans burst out of the trees ahead of Crier, running down the bank. They were armed, some with crossbows, some with swords at their hips or strapped to their backs, and some with burning torches, their faces illuminated in flickering orange light.

“Get ready to burn!” one of the humans shouted, the first one to reach the water. He waded in without hesitation, grabbing the body of the dead thing and dragging it back to shore, dumping it on the rocks. “Bree, Mir, get the other one!” Two of the other humans immediately splashed into the river and headed for the second body, ignoring Crier entirely. Numb, she watched as the rest of the humans—maybe eight or ten in total—crowded around the first body, taking out waterskins and dousing it with . . . water?

No.

Oil.

The other two humans, carrying the second body between them, rejoined the others on the banks. They dumped it next to the first, and it too was doused with oil. Then one of the humans armed with a torch darted forward and set the bodies ablaze.

It all happened very fast. Shooting the black-veined Automae, retrieving their bodies, setting them on fire. The humans were efficient, methodical, like they’d done this before. Crier still wasn’t breathing. She should probably be breathing. She should probably be spurring Della away, racing back the way they’d come. She knew burning was one of the best ways to kill her Kind. Severing the head, stabbing the heart, burning the body so it could not heal. What if she was next? She took a deep, shuddering breath. She had to get out of here.

“Hey!” one of the humans called out. It was the one from before, maybe the leader, the one who’d been shouting orders. He was standing at the edge of the riverbank, silhouetted against the leaping fire behind him. He was looking at Crier. Some of the other humans had turned to look at her too. “Are you all right?” he called. “Are you hurt?”

She opened her mouth and nothing came out.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice raised so she could hear him over the crackle of the flames. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”