Only a Game

MICHAEL

Sheathing my sword, I fought to slow my breathing while I surveyed the battlefield. The scattered forces had regrouped, and though their numbers were small, they were still a fierce and deadly opponent. The Svarts had fallen back to the Door, but the Giants still pressed the Valkyrie. The way the Svarts had lined up, though, with the lethal, curved blades of their kukris held across their chests, I feared they drew their courage from a new wave of reinforcements about to cross the Bridge.

I glanced up the ridge to where Cornelius had his makeshift hospital, caring for the wounded. It was then that I saw him struggling with a body in his arms. I cursed under my breath; fear that Miri had taken a turn for the worse forcing me to the sky toward the pair. My injured wings had already begun to mend, but flight still made them burn.

“Cornelius?” I landed with an awkward thump, just behind the man. He startled and turned, but thankfully did not drop Miri. “Is she well?”