Screeching, the monsters circled her . . .

Mounted on Eriu, Shannivar found herself in the midst of creatures akin to the stone-drakes but four-footed. Jagged spines ran the length of their hunched backs, and the edge of each spike glistened wetly. The nearest pair crouched, forked tails lashing, jaws gaping wide to reveal gullets that glowed like sulfurous mud.

Winged snakes darted overhead. Hissing, the largest one plunged toward her. Shannivar had no space to maneuver and scarcely any time to think.

Eriu, be my wings!

The black horse flexed his back, bringing his rear legs under him. With a powerful thrust, he tucked his front legs. Horse and rider soared. The blasted earth lost its hold on them. For a long moment, they became creatures of air and light.

Eriu cleared the nearest slouching, fork-tailed creature and landed hard but in balance. Shannivar sent Eriu on an oblique path back toward the ice-troll. The monster was staggering on three legs, heaving its body from side to side as if trying to dislodge the arrow in its eye socket.

Shannivar drew even with the troll as she set an arrow to her bowstring. With a shift of her weight, she slowed Eriu’s pace. She bent her bow and sighted along her arrow. Up . . .

...to where Zevaron clung to his seat atop the wildly swaying troll. He looked down. This time, she saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes. He knew her.

Her fingers froze on string and arrow.