Silver-flecked dark eyes gazed down at him, a strange fire burning in their depths even as the beautiful, sensuous body of the Aeriel Queen moved slowly, hypnotically above him. Long, silver hair streaked with something darker pooled on his chest and in the crook of his neck like ethereal wisps of satiny smoke, as long, perfect nails etched chalky patterns over the sweat-damp skin of his abdomen. His breath hitched even as his body arched upwards, chasing the light, fleeting pressure of that silken flesh on his own. For a moment, his partner withdrew, moving upwards and slightly away, cruelly depriving him of the friction he so desperately craved even as one of her slender hands casually held both of his own in an unyielding, vice-like grip just above his head, keeping him exactly where she wanted him.

“We need the ores, my love,” she whispered, bending down over him slowly until her delicate, slightly upturned nose brushed against his earlobe. “We need them, or else all of this has been in vain. You understand that, do you not?”

His hips bucked, his entire body trembling in anticipation at the light brush of her warm breath against his over-sensitised skin. “I-I’m doing my best,” he gasped, struggling to keep his voice steady enough to be comprehensible. “I can’t just…I can’t just divert all resources for my personal use, you know that. There are – there are checks on these kinds of things, procedures and guidelines. There’s just no way–”

“Well then, find a way!” Tauheen hissed, digging her perfect nails into the flesh of his shoulder. He thought she might have drawn blood, but he couldn’t be sure. He was too busy trying to breathe through the sudden assault of the Aeriel’s lips on his own. It was like dying of thirst even as the sweetest water in creation poured down his throat. He was almost delirious with the sensation of it.

His phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

He reached out, trying to find it within the mess of blankets and pillows on which he lay, boneless and overwrought. His limbs felt like they had iron weights tied to them…multiple iron weights. Finally, his fingers touched the cold, metallic surface of the cell-phone, closing in around the frantically vibrating gadget.

Tauheen’s slender digits, cool and dry, wrapped themselves around his larger ones with deceptive strength. “Not now, my love,” she almost pouted. The sight was so incongruous, and yet so strangely fitting on that porcelain doll-like face, it almost jerked him out of the semi-trance he had been languishing in for the past few hours. “We have things to talk about, things to do.” Her voice was velvety, alluring. “Everything else can wait.”

“It might be…might be important,” he protested weakly, grasping one last time for the phone before allowing his fingers to go limp in the Aeriel’s grasp. His mind told him he should take the call, get up, leave; but his heart wasn’t in it. He felt his body fall back into the mattress, exhausted, relaxed. “Might’ve been something about the sif ores, you know.”

“We can deal with that later,” said Tauheen, smiling sweetly even as her head dipped down to claim his lips once more, her tongue roving possessively over his mouth. He groaned, instinctively parting his lips to deepen the kiss. “Right now, I have some things in mind you might just find a little more enjoyable than work…”

***

Eyes fixed on the road, Ruban grit his teeth and pressed down harder on the accelerator even as fields and villages flew past them on both sides of the highway. He was probably breaking every traffic law in the country and then some, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He would happily spend the rest of his life in jail for traffic violation if it would only get him there on time, before it was too late.

“It could be a coincidence. We still have no concrete proof that Reivaa was there to begin with,” Ashwin said beside him, navigating the GPS on his phone as Ruban drove. Despite his words, however, his voice sounded tense, brittle. His tone told Ruban that Ashwin didn’t really believe what he was saying.

The Hunter kept his eyes trained on the road. With every minute that passed, his heart beat a little faster, his vision blurred with some combination of the wind, dust and a sheer, blood-curdling fear that he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling. Not again - his mind kept repeating with an almost rhythmic consistency. Not ever again.

“Where now?” Ruban asked, his tone clipped, as they approached a crossroads a few miles into Ragah. He knew the city like the back of his hand. Under normal circumstances, he would have died before asking a foreigner for directions in what he had come to think of as his own city over the past eight years. But he wasn’t thinking straight – he was still coherent enough to realise that. It was all he could do to keep his hands steady on the steering wheel, and he wouldn’t be any use to Hiya if he drove them off the road before they found her.

“Left,” Ashwin said, voice oddly decisive. “We’ll go to the mansion first, check if she’s there. If she is, you can inform the IAW and put the place on lockdown, get a security detail around her until we figure out why her photo was in the warehouse.”

And if not? A traitorous, mocking voice screamed in Ruban’s head. What if she’s not at the mansion? What if they’ve taken her? What if she’s already dead? Dead, like everyone else that ever came near you, ever touched you. Dead and lost forever, all of them.

Ruban bit viciously down on his tongue, drawing blood, even as his knuckles tightened spasmodically around the steering wheel. He forced himself to focus. This was not the time. He had to find Hiya, no matter what the cost. She was the closest thing to a little sister he had ever had and he would not lose her; he refused to even consider the possibility. Turning the wheel with far more force than was strictly necessary, he pressed down hard on the accelerator. He would burn the world to the ground before he let those monstrous creatures touch a hair on her head.

“Did you call the office?” he asked Ashwin, trying to take his mind off his own thoughts.

“I did. Simani’s out on a Hunt but I told Faiz to inform the taskforce and send a team over to Rawaria as soon as possible, to properly search the warehouse for anything we might have missed. On your orders, of course. I called the IAW too but Ms. Saya said your uncle’s not in. He’s in a meeting with the director or something; neither of them is taking calls. You can try calling them later if you have to, but first we should try and get to Hiya. We need to get off the main road. Take the next right.”

Ruban swerved into a relatively empty alley and redoubled his assault on the accelerator. The Zainian was right; it wouldn’t do to stay on the main road too far into the city. The farther they got from the suburbs, the better the traffic laws were enforced and the more congested the main thoroughfares became. Even this early in the morning, they could be stuck in traffic for hours before they reached their destination. Keeping his eyes trained on the narrow road ahead, Ruban shifted gears with a barely contained snarl of frustration.

“We’ll find her, Ruban,” Ashwin said, over the protesting screech of the old sedan’s overworked tires, his voice unusually calm as he directed the vehicle into another bumpy backstreet followed by a lane hemmed in on both sides by barbed fences. “You’ll find her. She’ll be safe. Have faith.”

***

A frazzled Bala answered Ruban’s frantic banging on the doors of the Kinoh Residence, her plump face glistening with perspiration – probably from being near the stove. Wisps of loose hair stuck limply to her sweat-damp skin, having fallen out of the untidy bun at the back of her head. Her usually-neat apron was slightly askew, as if she had just been running.

Her beady, brown eyes widened when she saw who was on the other side of the door. “Master Ruban,” she gasped, dabbing at her sweaty face with the end of her apron. “And Mister…” she glanced at Ashwin uncertainly, as if trying and failing to remember his name. Ashwin smiled and supplied the required information, at which she nodded vaguely and continued with a perplexed expression: “What’s happened? What are you doing here this time of day? Mister Kinoh is at the office –”

“Where’s Hiya?” Ruban demanded, cutting her off. “Is she home?”

Bala squinted at him as if he had lost his mind. “Why of course not, Master Ruban. She’s at school.” She sighed, seeming to come to a decision. Holding the door further open, she stood back, ushering them into the house with a wave of her hand. “Well, whatever it is, it can be talked about inside. Come in, come in. You can’t just stand out there forever, it’s going to rain. Come sit down, I’ll make you some tea. You can wait for Hiya if you like, although I’m afraid she probably won’t be back for another few hours.”

Ashwin frowned, glancing down at his phone. “Why? Don’t her classes end at one? It’s twelve-thirty already.”

“Well yes, yes,” Bala said, rummaging in the kitchen for ingredients. “That’s true, but one of her teachers called just half an hour ago to inform us that they’ll be taking the children to some sort of picnic today. So she’ll be a bit late. They said they’ll drop the kids home on the school bus after the picnic, so I told Ratul not to take the car out and gave him the day off. Don’t worry, though. She’ll be back by the evening.”

Ruban looked at Ashwin, blood thrumming in his ears. “Do you have the phone number of this teacher, Bala?” he asked. He was surprised at how calm his voice sounded. He had almost expected it to come out in a terrified gurgle.

“Umm, no,” Bala said, frowning. She seemed to sense that something was wrong. “She called the landline. But I can give you the school’s official phone number. They’ll know where the kids are.” Wiping her hands on her apron, she rushed over to one of the cabinets in the drawing room, fishing a phonebook out from one of its shelves.

***

As Ashwin finished the conversation and swiped his phone shut, Ruban turned to look at him expectantly. He didn’t trust his voice to remain steady if he spoke, so he just raised an eyebrow and waited.

The Zainian bit his lip, his mouth setting in a grim line. For a moment, he seemed reluctant to meet Ruban’s eyes, staring fixedly at the wall behind the Hunter. “There’s no picnic planned at the school today. Class let out just a few minutes ago. All the children were picked up at the main gate as usual, including Hiya.”

“But-but who picked her up?” spluttered Bala, her eyes wild. “I told Ratul to take the day off. The car’s still in the garage. I’ll call him–”

“Don’t,” said Ruban through gritted teeth. His voice shook as fury and fear battled for dominance in his mind, making his vision blur into a crimson haze. “I know who it was. I’ll find her.”

***

The Holy Child Centre for Primary and Secondary Education was a series of double-storeyed, red-roofed buildings connected to each other by marble corridors on each level. The entire structure was surrounded by a well-maintained playground in the front – complete with a basketball and a tennis court – and a meticulously tended garden at the back. From a distance, it looked like an oasis of incongruent peace and natural beauty in the desert of noise and pollution that was Ragah. It looked more like an idyllic country estate than a commercial establishment in the heart of the overcrowded capital. And it was an idyll dearly bought, reserved solely for the children of the city’s rich and powerful who could afford to pay for the illusion of fashionable scholastic seclusion in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods in town.

As the car screeched to a halt outside the giant red-and-white gates of the now-empty school, a liveried security guard with a walkie-talkie in one hand and a metal-capped wooden baton in the other ran up to the vehicle, looking disgruntled. Tapping his knuckles against the driver-side window, the young man jumped back with a surprised yelp as Ruban threw the door open and leapt out of the car.

“Sir, you cannot park here. You have to go round the back. This is–”

Ruban flashed his badge, cutting off the man’s agitated protests. The guard’s eyes widened as his mind connected the badge with the face that had been on the news on and off for the last few weeks and he gulped nervously, recognition dawning on his face. “Ah, sir, I’m so sorry I didn’t…I mean, how can I help you?”

Wordlessly, Ruban held out his phone to the guard, a picture of Hiya on the screen. “This girl is a student at your school. Her name is Hiya Kinoh. I need to know where she is now. Who picked her up from school today?”

The youth frowned, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Ah, Miss Hiya. Of course. I’m afraid you just missed her, though. She left a few minutes ago.”

“With whom? Where did they take her, do you know?” Ashwin asked urgently, stepping out of the car.

“Uh, a lady in a silver convertible came to pick her up. Volkswagen, I think. It wasn’t Miss Hiya’s usual ride of course, so we stopped her at the gate. But she had her pickup ID and she said that Miss Hiya’s usual driver was on leave so she was here to pick her up instead. So we let her through. She just left with Miss Hiya a few minutes ago. Why, is there a problem?” He sounded genuinely worried.

“Which way did they go?” demanded Ruban, ignoring the question. There was no time for small-talk now.

The young man looked nervously from Ruban to Ashwin, then back again. “I - uh - I think they were headed towards Select City Walk in Kanla Park. Lots of students go to the mall after school so I didn’t think anything of it. Look, do you want me to call the police? Why are Hunters here anyway? I don’t know what’s going on but if something’s happened to Miss Hiya–”

“That won’t be necessary. We’ll take care of it,” Ashwin said, his voice gentler, more reassuring. The rational part of Ruban’s mind – what little of it was still functional – supposed it was a good idea. The young man looked spooked enough as it was; the last thing they needed was police flooding the streets before they could find Hiya. It would only make matters more volatile. “Look, we’ll go now,” the Zainian continued, his voice steady, soothing. “You don’t need to worry about it. Just…can you tell us what this - ah - lady looked like?”

The guard looked confused, almost pained. “Um…I couldn’t see much of her, sir. She was in the car the whole time but ah…she rolled down the window when I asked for the ID and…”

“Yes?” Ashwin prompted encouragingly.

“Well, she had long hair, sir. Long, straight hair and she was wearing shades so I couldn’t see much of her face but I think as she was pretty,” he said, almost guiltily. “Pretty, and-and very fair.”

Ashwin looked over at Ruban, and the Hunter knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Goddamn Aeriels!” Ruban growled as he jumped back into the car, followed by Ashwin.

***

They caught up with the silver convertible at the crossing in front of Kanla Park. Ruban tried to overtake the car, push it off the road, but the vehicle was far more powerful than their old sedan and it revved past them, gaining speed as it swerved and manoeuvred to dodge the other vehicles on the road. It was like some bizarre, real-life parody of Need for Speed, and it was all Ruban could do not to lose the car in the afternoon-rush. His hands itched to reach for his gun, but the place was too crowded for him to do anything but try and keep up with the convertible, biding his time.

Pressing down hard on the brake to avoid crashing into a truck trying to overtake them, the Hunter snarled. “Goddamn it! We’ll never catch up to them like this.”

Looking up from the GPS on his phone, Ashwin said with the same uncharacteristic calm he had worn like a cloak all day, “It’s alright. Just focus on not losing her for now. I think I know where she’s headed.”

“Where?” Ruban demanded impatiently, swerving to the right to avoid ramming into a lethargic biker who insisted on driving at a snail’s pace right in front of him. It was as if the whole damned city was conspiring with Reivaa to throw him off her trail.

“Zikyang forest. It’s around fifty miles north of Select City Walk and the area is almost completely deserted. I’d say it’s as good a hiding place as any for an Aeriel harbouring a human hostage. Just keep driving; she’ll have to stop somewhere.”

Traffic thinned the further up the city they drove. By the time they had reached the vicinity of Zikyang forest in the northernmost fringes of Ragah, one or two bullock-carts every couple of miles was all that crossed their path. The paved road disappeared into cobbled, uneven pathways too narrow for comfortable driving and the sedan jerked and heaved as it struggled to keep up with the slick, fast convertible.

“Uh…I don’t mean to impose or anything,” gasped Ashwin between one bout of violent, lurching turbulence and the next, his head banging loudly against the padded headrest of his seat. “But I think you should do something about this…um…problem now. There isn’t any more traffic here so, you know, feel free to do your thing.”

“You know what? I think you’re bang on about that. Take the wheel.” And with that Ruban leapt up onto his seat and leaning out of the window, his feet planted on the leather upholstery, pointed his gun at the convertible a few feet ahead of them and pulled the trigger. Two shots rang out through the forest in quick succession, even as a flabbergasted Ashwin threw himself onto Ruban’s abandoned seat to take control of the steering wheel.

“A little warning next time wouldn’t kill you, you know,” he shouted over the din of gunfire with ill-concealed annoyance. “Seriously, you’ll kill yourself one of these days.”

The convertible lurched and shook as the stench of singed leather filled the air. Both the back wheels of the vehicle had been hit. It kept moving for a few more seconds, driven by sheer momentum, then came to a screeching, wailing halt, leaning precariously to its right. It looked almost ready to topple over.

Ruban threw his door open and leapt out of the car, ready to dart across to the bullet-ridden convertible even as Ashwin stepped out the other side of the sedan. Before they could advance any further towards the ruined vehicle, though, the front door of the Volkswagen – and Ruban could see now that it was indeed a Volkswagen – fell open with a metallic clang.

Out of the silver vehicle emerged a tall, light-skinned young woman with straight, reddish-brown hair that reached down to her hips. Her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and her full lips quirked upward on one side in a mockery of a smile. Before her she held a young girl in a white-and-red school uniform, one hand resting on her shoulder and the other wrapped almost gently around her throat, stroking the delicate skin just below the jawline. The girl stood stock-still; short, caramel curls sticking to her tear-streaked face, her clear brown eyes wide with terror. “Baan,” she breathed, the word barely audible as she stared up at the Hunter. “Help me.”

The woman laughed as Ruban lunged at her, held back only by Ashwin’s hands gripping his arms from behind. He snarled, fighting to free himself, his eyes fixed on the woman whose melodic laughter echoed through the forest. He burned with a hatred so raw in its unfiltered intensity that it staggered him. He hadn’t felt this way in years…in almost eight whole years. “Let me go,” he growled, trying to shake the Zainian off him. “I’ll kill her.”

“If you do anything now, she’ll kill Hiya,” Ashwin snapped behind him, pulling him back beside himself with one last forceful jerk. “This is not the time for a fight. We have to get Hiya out of here. She could kill her with less than a thought.”

“I really could, you know,” the woman said, her tone amused. “And I would too. Snap her little neck like a twig, if I didn’t have strict orders to bring her back in one piece. She’s a pretty little girl, isn’t she? Would make a pretty little corpse.”

A guttural sound, barely human, escaped Ruban’s lips; every fibre of his being strained to lunge at the enemy, to tear her to pieces. At the moment, he would gladly have traded his soul for a chance to tear into the Aeriel’s flesh with his bare hands.

Ashwin’s cool voice, measured and deliberate, cut through the crimson haze clouding his mind and vision, forcing him to focus. “Orders from whom?” the Zainian asked, tilting his head as if he were asking the Aeriel if she took milk with her coffee. “Tauheen? What does she want with the girl anyway? What has a child got to do with the sifblade formula?”

Reivaa laughed again, the sound ringing through the forest like a dark melody, harsh and caustic, but still beautiful. “Just as naïve as ever, aren’t you, my little prince? Always so curious, so inquisitive about every little thing, sniffing around where you had no business to be. I see your sister hasn’t been able to beat any more discipline into you since we last met.”

“Just let her go,” Ruban said, taking a step towards his cousin, his hands held up in front of him. He had no idea what the Aeriel was going on about, and at the moment he couldn’t have cared less. “Just let Hiya go. I’ll give you anything you want in return.”

Reivaa smirked, tightening her grip around Hiya’s throat infinitesimally. Hiya whimpered, her eyes widening as a tear trickled down her face and into the already damp collar of her uniform shirt. “You think you’re in a position to bargain with me right now, Hunter?” she asked, reaching up to pull the sunglasses off her face, silver-flecked black eyes shining like uncut diamonds in the light of the setting sun. Somehow, they reminded Ruban of the Aeriel Queen. “There is nothing I want that you can possibly give me. I want you dead, and I’ll kill you, as well as your little pet princeling. And if you try to stop me, well, I’ll still kill you. But not before you’ve watched this pretty little girl die screaming at my feet. Give me an excuse, Hunter, and I’ll give you a show you’ll never forget in your life – not that it will be a very long life, one way or another.”

“You want to kill me? Do it,” Ruban said, throwing his gun to the ground, followed by his sifblade and taking another step towards the Aeriel. “Just let her go. She has done nothing to you. She’s just a kid. Let her go, and you can do what you want with me. Just please, don’t hurt Hiya.”

“How very touching. Almost like a poorly written soap opera. Humans and their dramatics,” she sighed. “Not that it isn’t a tempting offer. You’ve single-handedly caused me more trouble than a hundred humans are worth together, you know? You for the girl, you say? You and the little prince, of course. He deserves to live even less than you, if that’s at all possible. Conspiring with humans,” she spat, like it was a dirty word. “Keening and simpering for the favour of lesser beings. Disgusting, the lot of them. Vaan requires a change of guard; a cleansing, to be more accurate. And this is as good a place to start as any.”

To Ruban’s surprise, Ashwin spoke before he had had a chance to think of a reply, his voice mocking. “A cleansing, is it?” the Zainian said derisively, voice dripping with contempt that almost rivalled the Aeriel’s. “You’d know, wouldn’t you? When was the last time you saw it, Reivaa? When was the last time you saw Vaan?” As he spoke, Ashwin walked slowly to his right, away from Ruban. “Not in centuries. And you never will, I can promise you that. It doesn’t matter what happens here today. Doesn’t even matter if you manage to kill me – which honestly, I wouldn’t count on if I were you. But even if you managed it somehow, it wouldn’t matter. ‘Cause my death wouldn’t change what you are. The only thing you’ll ever be. An exile. An outcast. Now and forever.

“All your delusions of power and grandeur aren’t going to change that. Dominion over all of earth, even if you somehow managed to gain it – like the old days – wouldn’t change what you’ve lost. You’ll never see eternal sunshine Reivaa, never again. Not all of Mommy’s petty little schemes nor all your silly posturing before mortals is going to get you what you really want.” He smiled beatifically, leaning against a tree some distance away from Ruban. Reivaa had turned almost ninety degrees to maintain eye-contact with the Zainian, as if trapped in a hypnotic trance, unable to look away. “You’ll never see home again, Reivaa. Never be more than an outcast, a stray wandering the earth for all of eternity.”

Reivaa howled, baring her teeth at Ashwin in an almost animalistic snarl. “You know nothing,” she spat, practically vibrating with fury. “Nothing of what we’ve done, what we’re capable of doing. When we take Vaan you’ll all be dead. You and your sister and all the rest of the cowards who ran away – a disgrace to our kind. We’ll burn all the traitors out of Vaan; restore her to the glory that’s her due. All the realms will cower at our feet, when this is all over.”

Ashwin doubled over, laughing as he clutched at his stomach. “And you call the humans dramatic? Really, the irony of it! But then, I suppose I shouldn’t have expected any different from a vankrai. Try as you might, you just can’t get it out of your systems, can you? That pesky little stain of latent humanity. You call us cowards, when you were the ones who let the puny mortals drive you into the ground all those years ago. Couldn’t even win the stupid fight that you started, could you darling? If anybody’s a disgrace to their kind here, I’m fairly certain it would be you. After all, you lost earth and you lost Vaan. Can’t keep a hold of anything, can you? Really Reivaa, you’re so pathetic, it’s almost sad,” he smirked. “Or it would be, if it wasn’t so utterly ridiculous.”

With a hair-raising screech Reivaa lunged at Ashwin, pushing Hiya to the side as she flew towards the Zainian, silver wings unfurling around her like clouds of saturated electricity. Twin strokes of crimson marked the tips of the sterling appendages. Thunder sounded somewhere in the distance. Ashwin leapt lightly to his left just as Reivaa crashed into the tree he had been leaning against, the force of the impact uprooting it and throwing it a few feet further into the forest.

Reivaa snarled and turned right, her eyes flashing with uncontained fury, just in time for Ashwin to leap onto one of the lower branches of a nearby oak and land a resounding kick on his airborne opponent’s exposed neck. There was a crack, and Reivaa screamed, flailing blindly at the Zainian who once again leapt off his branch and landed squarely on the Aeriel’s back, snaking his arm round her neck and hanging on as she flew further up into the air, trying to dislodge him.

Hiya, now safely away from the infuriated Aeriel, picked herself up and sprinted into Ruban’s outstretched arms, even as he ran forward to meet her halfway. The Hunter picked her up, holding her close as he turned to kiss her tear-streaked face, struggling to hold back his own relieved tears. “Oh God, you’re alright. You’re safe,” he whispered, his voice coming out in a sob. He didn’t know who he was trying to convince, Hiya or himself. Perhaps it was a bit of both.

There was a crash somewhere deeper inside the forest, and Ruban looked up to see Reivaa, hovering mid-air with her wings outstretched, holding a struggling Ashwin down against the forest floor strewn with dead leaves and wildflowers. Reivaa’s hands were wrapped around the Zainian’s throat, her nails digging into his skin as he bucked wildly under her, trying to throw her off. After another moment of futile struggling, he managed to plant his knee into her stomach, distracting her for a few seconds, which was all he needed to jump back onto his feet and put some distance between them, gasping for breath.

“What’s wrong, little prince?” Reivaa snarled, mocking, as she advanced towards the Zainian. She too was gasping, and she had folded her enormous wings closer around her body. “Show yourself, why don’t you? Fight me to the best of your capacity. It would be no fun to kill you when you’re holding back.” She flew at him – moving faster than Ruban could follow – and struck him across the face in a shattering blow, throwing him off his feet and into the nearest tree.

“Or are you afraid? Afraid of the human?” she spat, raising her hand for another blow. Ashwin tore off a branch from the tree he had crashed into and used it to parry Reivaa’s attack, sliding downwards and driving his fist into the Aeriel’s gut before jumping back to avoid the flying kick that missed him by a hair’s breath. “Vaan has made you complacent, little prince. You and all your ilk. You’ve forgotten strife, forgotten pain. No matter, I’ll gladly reinitiate your education. You are but a child to me, Shwaan. A stupid, arrogant child, at that. You think it would be hard for me to kill you? Think again.”

Hiya screamed as Reivaa flew at Ashwin once again, wrapping her arms around him in a strange mockery of a hug as she picked him clean off the ground and drove him straight into a line of trees. The forest echoed with the sounds of snapping branches and tearing tree roots. As they crashed finally into a gigantic banyan that shuddered and lurched violently under the assault but refused to give way, Ashwin used the leverage of the tree at his back to throw Reivaa off him and land a solid blow to her sternum, causing her to stagger back.

“Don’t just stand there, you idiot,” he yelled, turning towards Ruban where the Hunter stood at the edge of the forest with a terrified Hiya in his arms. “Take Hiya and get out of here. I’ll handle Reivaa.”

For a moment, Ruban stood still, staring at the scene of carnage that was Zikyang forest. He didn’t really understand what was going on, but he knew that there was more to the situation than met the eye. He was tempted to turn back, to drive away with Hiya safe in his arms, and come back later with reinforcements, when he would have a better chance of winning against this monstrous creature. But it was at least a two-hour drive to the Quarters, more if he tried to reach the IAW. Ashwin wouldn’t survive that long against Reivaa, not alone, Ruban knew that with an absolute certainty. There would be no one left to come back for.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She will kill you,” Ruban shouted back even as Reivaa made another swipe at Ashwin, which the Zainian dodged at the last second, throwing a kick of his own. Putting Hiya back down onto the ground, Ruban spoke into her ear: “Run to the car and stay inside until we get back, okay? Don’t go anywhere, and don’t be scared. I’ll clean this mess right up and take you home, you get me?”

Hiya nodded, even as her lower lip wobbled with oncoming tears. But her eyes remained dry as she smiled up at Ruban, and the Hunter could feel his heart ache with pride. Hiya was a brave girl, she always had been. He patted her affectionately on the back, and she ran off towards the sedan where it was still parked a few yards behind the convertible, which had toppled over and was lying unceremoniously on its side.

As Hiya hopped into the back of the little black car, another feral snarl reverberated through the forest and Reivaa hurled Ashwin across the clearing created by the fallen trees and into the toppled convertible, which let out a violent, metallic groan and shuddered convulsively under the impact. Silently, the Hunter bent down to reclaim his discarded weapons, even as Reivaa unfurled her wings and dashed after the Zainian, who lay gasping against the destroyed vehicle.

Taking aim, Ruban threw his sifblade. It was largely guesswork; he could barely see the Aeriel when she was moving at full speed. Still, it was either that or watch the creature snap Ashwin’s neck. And even from a self-preservation point of view, that was a bad idea. Ruban harboured no delusions about his ability to take Reivaa on his own while trying to protect Hiya at the same time.

The blade connected, and Reivaa dropped out of the air like a singularly gorgeous sack of potatoes, her outstretched hand inches away from Ashwin’s throat. The metallic handle of the sifblade stuck out of her shoulder like a very intricately carved birthday candle even as effervescent light spilled like blood from the wound.

***

“Should’ve hit her in the heart,” Ashwin whispered as they stood catching their breaths, watching Reivaa stagger slowly back to her feet, her right shoulder a mess of torn skin and ruined cloth, the blade still sticking out of the flayed flesh like some kind of morbid banner. Ruban cursed internally. How was it that he never had more than one sifblade on him whenever he was being attacked by some of the most powerful Aeriels in creation? What use was a whole arsenal full of top-of-the-line ammunition when all he ever actually had to work with was an old standard-issue sifblade that any third-year at Bracken would scoff at?

“If I had that kind of aim I’d be an Olympic archer, not an underpaid government employee,” Ruban snapped through gritted teeth, not taking his eyes off the Aeriel. “Be thankful for what you got.”

“You live on less than half your income,” said Ashwin indignantly. “What would you do with more money?”

“Point,” agreed Ruban, even as they both jumped out of the way of the fiery ball of saturated energy that crashed into the ground where they had been standing moments ago, scorching the earth a charcoal black. It hadn’t been the most powerful blast, but it would definitely have fried them alive had it made contact. “Damn.”

“I’ll try to get close to her. You warn me if she tries anything. And shoot her in the wings if you can. It’s one of the most vulnerable parts of her anatomy.”

“Bullets won’t do any good without sif,” Ruban bit out, frustrated.

“The sif’s inside of her. How long do you think she’ll last with that thing lodged in her flesh? It’s a death sentence. We just have to keep her distracted until she falls over and dies.” With that Ashwin lunged at the Aeriel, throwing kicks and blows that connected more easily and seemed to have more of an impact now that Reivaa was being drained by the blade in her shoulder. As the Aeriel crashed into a nearby tree, hurled into it by a rather vicious kick from Ashwin, a tiny, iridescent light flickered near the palm of her right hand, barely visible in the twilight.

“Ashwin look out,” Ruban roared, jumping forward to push the Zainian out of the range of the shell as it flew at them in a headlong rush.

As energy blasts went, this one was a fairly poor specimen – barely managing to knock over a single tree when it finally detonated deeper in the forest. For once, though, the strength of the blast didn’t matter. The shell had grazed Ruban’s right calf as he pushed Ashwin out of its way and into the ground. He then landed on top of the Zainian in an unceremonious heap.

Ruban thought that if somebody had taken the dullest butter-knife in existence and used it to carve out a chunk of his flesh, it probably would not have hurt anywhere near as much as it did now. The stench of scorched flesh stung his nostrils and his throat burned with what had probably been the hair-raising mother of all screams, but his brain was too busy trying to crawl out of his skull to register much by way of sensory information. Apart from the earth-shattering, heart-stopping pain in his leg, of course.

Distantly, he heard Ashwin talking to him, cradling his head as he moved carefully out from under him, mindful not to jostle him more than necessary. “…I’m gonna take your gun,” the Zainian was saying, and through the haze of agony he felt hands fiddling with his holster, unloading the firearm until there was an uncomfortable emptiness at his side.

“Mpphhh,” he said, unsure of what it was he really wanted to convey, even as a gunshot rang out a few feet off to the side of where he lay. He looked up, forcing his eyes to focus, to see Ashwin standing less than ten feet to his left, facing Reivaa, gun held out in front of him as he moved further away from Ruban, deeper into the forest. He’s leading her away, Ruban realised after a moment, his pain-addled mind moving slower than usual. Grunting, he rolled over to his side, using his arms to push himself off the ground. It wouldn’t do to let a foreign diplomat – no matter how much of a useless pain in the ass – get killed on his watch. That would be all kinds of embarrassing, for everyone involved.

Another shot rang out and a high-pitched, subhuman screech filled the air, Reivaa’s massive wings arching backward and away from her body. He’s done it. He’s hit her in the wing. High on a strange admixture of pain, exhaustion and second-hand triumph, Ruban pushed himself to his feet, ready to run to the Zainian’s aid. And then promptly crumpled to the ground with a scream that might have rivalled Reivaa’s, if the echoes reverberating through the trees were anything to go by. His leg burned, muscles throbbing as unfiltered agony shot through his veins, and his lungs felt as if they had been dipped in acid, then ground into dust with a hatchet. It was a distinctly unpleasant sensation.

“Baan!” a shrill, childish voice wailed somewhere in the distance and to his horror, Ruban saw Hiya shoot out of the sedan and run towards him, russet eyes wide with terror. “Baan, what happened to you? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” she cried, falling to her knees beside him. When she finally saw his mutilated leg, her lips parted in shock, eyes welling with tears. “Oh God,” she whimpered, extending a hand to lightly touch his leg just above the wound.

“It’s all right,” Ruban said, trying to make his voice as reassuring as possible as he pushed himself up on one arm, careful not to jostle the wound. “I’m alright, Hiya. Go back to the car. You shouldn’t be out–”

Shrill laughter filled the air, interrupting him. A chill ran down Ruban’s spine as he turned to see Reivaa looking straight at Hiya, variegated eyes burning with a strange, alien light. Ashwin stood a few feet to her right, his stance defensive, gun held firmly out in front of him as if he had been preparing to fire another shot. He looked as horrified as Ruban felt.

“Where have you been, little girl?” Reivaa cooed, taking a staggering step towards Hiya, where the girl squatted beside Ruban. Her gaze made the Hunter sick. Forcing himself to sit up despite the burning pain in his leg, he tried to push the child behind him, putting his own body between her and the Aeriel.

Reivaa continued to speak with a sickly little chuckle, cooing at Hiya as she took another staggering step forward. “You look just like your mother; did you know that, little girl? You’ve got her eyes. Pretty, pretty eyes – like dirty diamonds. All big and round and filled with terror. She screamed at the end, did you know that? Screamed and cried, begged me to spare her. To let her go. Pretty eyes, so full of fear. So very gorgeous. Don’t worry, you won’t have to miss her for long now,” she whispered almost gently, inching closer to her target. “You’ll scream too, I’ll make sure of that. You’ll scream before you die, little girl. Before I kill you, just like I killed your mother all those years ago. It’ll be more fun this time, though. There won’t be any need to pretend it was an accident this time. I can take my time, have my fun. Tear your pretty little lungs out, nice and slow…”

Reaching for her own shoulder, Reivaa pulled the blade out, breathing heavily as she tossed it to the side. “If I’m to die tonight, I’ll take the girl with me. Feel her heart stop beating under my fingers before it’s over. I’ll finish my last mission for Tauheen, and finish it properly.” She held one pale, bloodless hand out, as if reaching for Hiya through the yards separating them, moving incessantly forward.

The girl whimpered, a strangled sound escaping her lips as she scampered haphazardly away, stumbling away from Ruban and deeper into the forest. His blood running cold, Ruban reached out to catch hold of her, keep her from moving away from him. “Hiya!” he called urgently – desperately – scrambling to reach her.

But she was too far away, already out of his reach. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his legs felt numb, paralysed; as if the pain had been replaced by a sheer lack of sensation. A faint, chillingly familiar rustle made him turn to look at the Aeriel.

Reivaa’s wings flared around her, sterling feathers burning like white fire tipped with a scarlet flame. Her eyes burned like twin stars on an angelic face, twisted almost beyond recognition with some alien emotion that Ruban couldn’t place. It could have been hatred, or it could have been glee, or some blood-curdling combination of the two. She was looking straight at Hiya, who cowered quietly behind a tree that failed to cover her little body completely. Tears streamed down her face and Ruban could see that she was shaking, curled in on herself as if to make herself as small as possible. A twisted smile appeared on Reivaa’s lips, her mouth curving upward as she flapped her wings – once, twice. A great gust of wind lifted the fallen leaves off the ground and scattered them everywhere. Just above them, a flash of lightning split the night-sky in two.

Ruban could only watch, paralysed, as Reivaa lifted herself off the ground, enormous wings beating the air for a few seconds like some hellish bird of prey, before her body flipped and she was horizontal in the air. Then she blurred, flying at the terrified Hiya at a pace that Ruban could not follow with his bare eyes.

***

Had he had time to think about it, Shwaan might have spared a moment to reflect upon the irony of the situation: that he was inviting death – most likely by human hands – trying to save a human child from a renegade Aeriel whose imminent demise was one of the few highlights of this entire ordeal.

As it was, though, there was no time, and he acted almost entirely on instinct as he watched Reivaa take flight, moving towards Hiya like a flash of lightning ripping through the sky. He felt his wings manifest around him, feathers cackling with pent up energy as he shot after Reivaa, the wind lashing against his face even as his mind reeled with the ecstasy of flight, after such a long interval.

On any other day, it would have been a close match – one he might even have lost, considering what Reivaa had on him in terms of years and experience. But today was not any other day. Reivaa was injured and exhausted and inching towards death with every passing moment. She was outclassed.

He shot past Reivaa and reached Hiya in plenty of time to flip easily in the air and plant himself firmly in front of the terrified, shaking young girl. His wings flared behind him like fiery barriers, shielding her from the oncoming enemy.

Reivaa caught up with him a moment later – silver-flecked eyes half-mad with some combination of pain and blood-lust – and reached blindly past Shwaan to grab at the girl, a look of animalistic hunger on her warped face. Shwaan batted her hand away with an easy flick of the wrist, turning icy eyes towards the delirious creature before him.

This had gone on for long enough. He had been holding back all this time to maintain the illusion of humanity, but that point was moot now. Not even the blissfully oblivious Hunter could have failed to notice the gigantic silver wings that had just sprouted on his companion’s back, or the sudden pearly whiteness of his eyes. Oh well. He reached up and slammed the side of his palm against Reivaa’s exposed neck with all the force he could muster, feeling the bones snap satisfactorily under his fingers. Sometimes, one just had to look on the bright side.

She barely even resisted, too distracted by the whimpering child behind him, as he swept her feet from under her and snapped her neck with one decisive flick. Reivaa raised her hand, grasping the air in Hiya’s general direction one last time, trying to touch that elusive prize, before collapsing in a broken heap at Shwaan’s feet.

Something gave way in the back of Shwaan’s mind, some tightly contained dam of barricaded fear he hadn’t been aware of before now, and he sighed deeply, sagging against the tree that half-hid the little girl. A muffled sob at his back drew his attention, and he turned to see Hiya biting quietly into the sleeve of her ruined shirt, face raw with tears even as her shoulders shook with aborted hiccups intermingled with great, heaving sobs.

Dropping to his knees, he reached for the girl, pulling her up off the ground and into his arms. Her little hands clutched blindly at his nearly-shredded coat as if searching for an anchor. He patted her gently on the back, trying to remember the way Maya had held him, comforted him during the attacks on the palace, in those last few days on earth. After a few seconds the sobs quieted, subsiding into the occasional hiccup, and Hiya sagged against him like an unwound clockwork doll.

At last he pushed himself to his feet, Hiya still snug in his arms as he turned back towards the clearing – to see Ruban inches from his face, the sifblade in his outstretched hand, eyes burning with a bizarre blend of terror and rage.

***

It had its arms around Hiya, gazing down at her through ghastly silver eyes. Gigantic wings spread out behind it – an argent blaze against the darkness of the night – arching upward and away from its body. Twin red marks – identical to the ones on Reivaa – stained the tips of the outstretched pinions like a bloodstained halo surrounding the familiar face.

Through the haze of pain, fear and blood-loss, Ruban watched – his heart beating a horrified cadence against his abused ribs – as the abomination that had been his companion – his friend – reached out towards Hiya and pulled the terrified, cowering girl into its arms. It was almost gentle, the way it touched her; almost the way Reivaa had been. Hiya’s sobs quieted, subsiding into little hiccups as the creature that had been Ashwin rocked her in its arms, whispering in her ears. Had it not been for the grotesque, inhuman whiteness of the eyes that looked hungrily down at her, the misshapen arch of unearthly wings, Ruban might even have believed that Ashwin was soothing the miserable child, comforting her.

As it was, all he saw was Hiya’s wrenching sobs fade into petrified little whimpers as the creature – the Aeriel – held her hostage in its arms, predatory wings surrounding the child like a huntsman’s cage closing down around his prey.

Ruban blinked, trying to clear the crimson haze that seemed to have descended upon his vision, tinging the world a bloody red. Blinded – partly by the darkness of the deserted night and partly by the fog of agony that clouded his mind – Ruban half crawled, half dragged himself across the clearing to the spot where Reivaa had stood before she flew at Hiya moments ago, although it seemed to him like it had been ages. Grasping unseeingly in the dark, his hands roving through dead leaves and dust, Ruban finally found what he was looking for. His fingers brushed against the cold metal of the discarded sifblade.

Like an addict starved of his poison, Ruban clutched at the carved handle of the blade, feeling some clarity seep back into his addled thoughts. He had not realised how much he’d missed the reassuring weight of the blade at his side until it was back in his hands, where it belonged.

Stifling the cry of agony that sprung to his lips at the movement, Ruban dragged himself to his feet, stumbling momentarily before he found his footing on the uneven forest floor. Gripping the sifblade like a lifeline in his trembling hand, Ruban advanced towards the Aeriel – he could not bring himself to call this monster Ashwin, which was probably not its real name anyway – as quietly as possible. He bit viciously down on his tongue to keep himself from crying out as the movement exacerbated the pain in his wounded leg.

Ruban had long since lost track of time, and hours or minutes could have passed by the time he finally reached the creature holding Hiya captive. The thing was standing up, turning around. Its arms snaked around the girl in a vice-like grip.

Through the blood-red haze, Ruban smiled – a caustic thing devoid of all humour, all life. The creature will watch, helpless, as he killed it, as he avenged his father, his Miki. Ruban would watch the life drain from those hideous, pearly pits as he drove his blade into the Aeriel, snatching Hiya back from its monstrous clutches.

He raised his hand above his head, his fingers clutching the sifblade which glinted in the moonlight, just as the Aeriel turned all the way around to face him. Its eyes widened as they registered the Hunter, saw the weapon in his hand. It took a step back, hitting the tree behind it as it turned its body sideways, holding Hiya away from Ruban.

He would have gone for the heart, skewered the sifblade straight into the creature’s breast and watched the life seep out of its eyes like blood from a wound. But the Aeriel still held Hiya in its arms, its torso shielded by the child curled up against it like a lifeless ragdoll.

So Ruban did the next best thing. After all, it was Ashwin himself who had given him that bit of advice. It seemed fitting, in a way, to obey his instruction this one last time.

Pulling his hand back as far as it would go, he drove the blade forward through the air and buried it hilt-deep into the Aeriel’s outstretched wing, then dragged it down viciously through mangled feathers and torn muscle until it came out the other end. Light poured from the wound, momentarily blinding Ruban as bits of ripped flesh and torn feathers stained his blade and his clothes.

The Aeriel screamed, a blood-curdling cry of pure agony, as its legs buckled and it collapsed to the ground, Hiya still clutched tightly against its body like a shield, or a lifeline. Ruban stepped onto the injured wing – now twisted awkwardly against the floor – and drove his heel into it even as he raised his hand to hack at the other appendage. He would not stop until Hiya was back safely in his arms. Then, perhaps, he would make it a quick end.

“Baan! Stop!” Hiya’s shrill voice rent the air, permeating his senses and forcing him to stop in his tracks, as the girl jumped out of the Aeriel’s slackened grip and stood in front of him, shielding the creature with her body. “What are you doing?” she gasped, clutching at his leg and pushing with all her might, trying to drive him back. “It’s Ashwin. He saved me, didn’t you see? Stop it!”

***

A white, glowing orb flashed through the night-sky, heading towards them like an oversized bullet forged from fire. It crashed into the earth moments after Ruban had leapt forward and thrown himself bodily over Hiya, covering her tiny form with his own larger one as he rolled them further into the forest, hoping the foliage would provide some cover from airborne assailants. Zikyang did not have much of a canopy, but it was a fairly dark night. Ruban prayed that that would be enough even as he tucked them both into the nook between two of the larger trees.

Looking up, he saw the silvery form of an Aeriel appear against the dark sky, stark and glowing ethereally in the light of the moon. A moment passed, and two more pearly figures appeared behind the first one, circling each other over the forest with lazy flaps of their lustrous wings.

“Damn,” Ruban muttered under his breath, trying to push himself towards the area with the heaviest undergrowth in the vicinity. “They must’ve been waiting for Reivaa to finish us off, before all the vultures could gather to feed on our corpses.” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought to check for any backup Reivaa might have had. He supposed it just hadn’t occurred to him that Reivaa would willingly share the pleasure of killing them with anybody else. Well, she probably wouldn’t have, which was why they hadn’t appeared until after her death.

“What do we do now, Baan?” Hiya’s voice shook, and she buried her face in the hollow of his neck. He could feel her tears drenching his shirt and he held her tighter, shifting slightly to make her somewhat more comfortable. He didn’t know what else to do, what else he could do. Pain flared through every part of his body, and his injured calf still felt as if someone had hacked at it with a rusted chainsaw. He felt helpless, and it wasn’t a feeling he was used to. He decided that he despised it.

Another energy-shell fell out of the sky and crashed a few feet away from where they hid, momentarily blinding Ruban with the flash of its detonation. A third soon followed – illuminating the woods in a flare of dazzling luminescence before going out just as quickly as it had appeared, making the forest feel darker than before.

A moment passed in relative tranquillity, and then something caught Ruban’s eye – a flicker in the distance, where the last energy-shell had hit the ground. It was tiny, barely noticeable. Ruban’s heart thundered against his ribs, as though it wanted to leap out of his mouth and vanish.

A fire-shell. They’re trying to flush us out by setting the whole damn forest on fire!

His blood turned to ice, he watched the spark grow brighter with every passing second, spreading slowly in an ever-increasing radius of flickering luminescence. He looked over desperately in the direction of his car, barely able to make out the metallic outline of the vehicle in the oppressive darkness. It was at least a hundred yards off from where they lay curled up in the foliage. Ruban did not need to flex his legs to know that he was in no condition to run that distance with Hiya in his arms. He could barely carry his own weight, and he certainly wouldn’t be fast enough to avoid being hit by one of the Aeriels on the way. They’d be dead long before they got anywhere near the car, he realised, as the flames danced closer to their hiding place with every moment that passed.

Was this what it came down to, Ruban wondered, a distant sort of calm descending over his overwrought senses. A choice between being burned alive or blasted to bits? Didn’t seem like much of a choice to him. But then, things rarely were all that they were cranked up to be, in his experience.

A shadow fell over them, and Hiya squealed, practically vibrating out of his arms in glee. Forcing his eyes to focus, Ruban looked up – to see Ashwin standing over them; wings outstretched, one hand braced against a nearby tree as if he didn’t trust his feet to keep him upright without the extra support. A faint sliver of light still spilled from his injured wing, casting forlorn shadows over the two humans as he stood there gazing down at them with empty white eyes.

Ruban wondered if it would be easier to just let Ashwin do it. He had been quick enough with Reivaa.

“Please, don’t hurt Hiya,” Ruban gasped, forcing the words through his parched throat in a strange mimicry of his entreaty to Reivaa earlier that evening. The words burned on their way out. It felt as though he had swallowed sand. “Please, just…you can do what you want with me. You don’t have to kill her. She’s done nothing to you. Just let her go, please.” He wasn’t above begging when it came to Hiya, when it came to the one thing that really mattered.

The Aeriel frowned, tilting his head to one side in that painfully familiar gesture. Dark hair fell over silver eyes, his braid having come undone at some point during the fight. The sight almost gave Ruban backlash, the combination of the alien and the familiar too much for his already disoriented mind to handle.

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Ashwin said, voice tinged with mild annoyance as he shifted his weight slightly to lean further into his tree. “And stop flattering yourself. Who do you think you are, anyway? You wouldn’t have lasted more than a fraction of a second if I’d actually intended to kill you.” He leaned down, pulling Ruban up by his collar as flames danced in the Hunter’s peripheral vision, inching ever closer. “Hold on to Hiya. Don’t let go, no matter what happens. We’re going flying!” He wrapped one hand around the Hunter’s back while the other strained against the tree, presumably to help him take the extra weight.

Ruban didn’t quite know what was going on, but he reached out to wrap his arms securely around Hiya, holding her close to himself. There was no way he was leaving her here; and besides, whatever Ashwin might have been planning to do with them, it couldn’t be significantly worse than being burnt alive.

With a few strained flaps of his gigantic wings – his face twisting into an agonised grimace – the Aeriel finally lifted them off the ground. As the reassuring touch of the leafy forest floor vanished from under his feet, Ruban tightened his grip around Hiya, who seemed more exhilarated than scared at being carried off into the air by an Aeriel. For the first time that day, he saw her grinning, eyes shining with unconcealed wonder as she looked down at the blazing forest below them. The fire had spread farther than Ruban had originally estimated. A large chunk of Zikyang lay engulfed in a red-and-gold haze. Smoke billowed into the air, creating the impression of a dense fog.

They flew higher – albeit rather shakily – gaining altitude by the second as the flaming forest receded below them. Ashwin’s wings flapped rhythmically above Ruban like a silver, feathery canopy, obscuring the sky, the moon. It wasn’t so much unpleasant as surreal, or at least it would have been, if they weren’t headed for almost certain death.

Suddenly, Ashwin surged to his left, causing Ruban to clutch at Hiya, who squealed excitedly. An energy-shell whizzed past the spot they had just vacated, crashing down into the blazing inferno that was the landscape below them. Ruban looked up to see the three Aeriels who had attacked them earlier appear through the smog, wings beating the air as little pinpricks of light danced around their outstretched hands. They were preparing to attack.

“Not right now,” Ashwin snapped, whipping around to face the Aeriels. “I’m kinda busy here.”

Another shell came flying at them, forcing Ashwin to swoop sideways to avoid being hit. “Fine. Have it your way,” the Aeriel said, irritation evident in his tone as he adjusted his hold on Ruban to free his right hand, holding it out in front of him in a practised gesture. “I mean, working for my mother would make anyone suicidal, I understand that. But this is taking it too far, even for Reivaa’s half-witted lackeys.”

Energy gathered around Ashwin like a rising storm, a whirlwind of which he was the centre and the origin. This close to the source, Ruban could actually feel the power cackling around him in an electric gale as an orb of light formed before Ashwin’s outstretched fingers. He didn’t know if it was the proximity that was distorting his perception, but the Hunter didn’t think he had felt an energy-attack this strong since Tauheen blew part of the SifCo building out of existence to steal the formula. The orb grew, glowing alternatively silver and white, before Ashwin gave a deceptively casual flick of his wrist, setting the shell free. It shot forward, hitting the nearest Aeriel, and detonated into a blast of prismatic light that made Ruban think of a miniature sunrise.

Then the light was gone, and all that remained was the fire, coursing through the air like a blazing whip, engulfing the remaining Aeriels into its crimson fold. A flare-blast – Ruban realised belatedly – though he had never seen anything quite like it. The energy seemed to burn the very air around it, flames rising out of nothing and dissolving into ether. Technically, there shouldn’t have been anything to burn up here in the sky.

Then, as fast as it had appeared, the flame was gone, the Aeriels falling out of the air like birds hit by stones thrown by a child; and darkness descended over them once again. With a final glance at the three Aeriels – hurtling through the air towards their fiery grave – Ashwin turned, beating his wings a couple of times before flipping into a horizontal position and coursing through the air at a speed that made Ruban’s breath catch in his throat. The wind stung his face like myriad little pins attacking every inch of exposed skin even as Ruban wrapped numb fingers around Hiya as tightly as he could and tried to focus on staying conscious.

***

They crashed onto a boundary wall in a secluded alley, the dingy street illuminated only by the light of a single street-lamp that flickered wearily on the opposite footpath. Its mates had long since given up the fight against short-circuits and poor maintenance and stood lifelessly beside it, like the statues of a forgotten age. Ruban thought that he must be heavily concussed to be waxing lyrical about malfunctioning streetlights – even in the obscure depths of his own head – and tried to focus on his surroundings in a more grounded fashion.

To say that the ride had been a turbulent one would have been an understatement. It was like riding a storm – exhilarating and terrifying at the same time – as Ashwin flew haphazardly over the city, his movements simultaneously swift and uncoordinated, swaying from side to side with the wind like a drunken bird. The landing had been as rough as the flight and Ruban spared a moment to be thankful that he hadn’t had anything to eat in over twenty-four hours. He would have been puking his guts out, if only he had had anything in his stomach to throw up.

Shifting slightly, he reached a hand out to check on Hiya. She had landed against his chest when they crashed into the wall, which would probably lead to a few bruised ribs for him, but at the moment, that was the absolute least of his problems. Hiya was breathing a little fast, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Her fingers curled around his hand as he touched her face lightly and she looked up at him with tired eyes. The excitement of the flight had faded, and she looked just about ready to drop off right there on the sidewalk.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, running a gentle hand through the tangled mess of her hair.

“Nope,” she mumbled, snuggling against him, her eyes falling shut.

Holding the girl against him, Ruban sat up, peering at his surroundings through bleary eyes, trying to determine their exact location. The few shopfronts lining the street were all shuttered, the hour too late for business, and there weren’t any other location markers that he could see. He wished he still had his phone, but he had left it in the car, which he was sure had been burned to a crisp by now.

Turning back to look over the boundary wall against which he sat, he noticed that it surrounded a large white-and-green building, its walls decorated with generic murals depicting nature and greenery.

Taking a leaf out of his cousin’s book, Ruban almost squealed.

The building faced away from them, but there was no mistaking that design. They had landed behind Hermanos General, one of the biggest hospitals in the city. He could have wept with relief.

Struggling to his feet with the sleeping Hiya in his arms, he began to make his way around to the main entrance of the hospital. As he turned the corner, however, something made him look back at the prone figure lying unconscious on the sidewalk. Ashwin’s wings had disappeared, although a few silvery feathers still lay scattered around him, denying Ruban the reprieve of pretending that the last couple of hours had never happened. Still, he looked almost human like this – eyes closed, dark hair spilled across the sidewalk like someone had splattered Zainian ink on the stone.

And he had brought them to the hospital. Ruban supposed he wouldn’t have done that if he had been planning to murder them at his own leisure.

It made no sense. Aeriels didn’t help humans, didn’t make friends with humans, any more than a human would willingly befriend an Aeriel. Not if they had any self-preservation instinct anyway.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ruban limped back into the alley, unbuttoning his tattered coat as he went. Taking the garment off, he threw it lightly over Ashwin, leaning down to push the unconscious creature further into the sidewalk, out of the way of any oncoming vehicles. Not that there was likely to be much traffic at this time of the night.

Then he turned back and strode briskly towards the hospital gates – or as briskly as his mutilated calf would allow. He needed to get Hiya to a doctor, and hopefully find some painkillers for himself. And it wasn’t like a hospital would do an Aeriel with a wing-injury much good anyway. He would think about what to do with Ashwin once his body stopped feeling like it had been run over by a truck carrying a stable full of rampaging horses.

***