Chapter 29
There was one last crackle of gunfire. I turned to Aria, but she hadn’t fired her shot yet. Then both of us turned to watch the iron blade of the inquisitors smash across Caen’s shoulders and he crumpled onto the ground. My jaws were open as the captain emerged from the black cloud, tossed the spent pistol into the snow, and let out one last smash with the blade.
I stood there, shocked, but the battlefield did not wait for me. A finger followed by the glint of a crossbow pointed at my direction. With no cover of mist I tried to rush for cover, but a soft thump had already found its mark. Searing pain. My left hand went limp as my bow dropped into the snow. I gripped my arm in agony as I dashed for cover. Off hand, tendon. More pain. I was sweating.