Oh no.
He ducked under her next blow, slashed across her side—but his injured body was slowing. His vision blurred. He couldn't hold them both.
He stumbled. The man grabbed his arm.
"You're a good fighter, knight," he sneered, twisting Heappal's wrist until his blade dropped. "But you should've died with your royals."
"You first," Heappal gritted, slamming his head into the man's face.
They both reeled.
But the woman was already behind him.
She raised her spear, panting, face twisted with fury.
And then—
A howl tore through the air.
Not a wolf.
A girl.
A voice Heappal knew too well.
"Heappal!"
Thalia.
She was back—and she was running straight at them.
Heappal barely registered her voice at first.
"Heappal!"
It rang across the trees like a ghost call. Sharp. Frantic.
His eyes snapped to the sound just as a blur of pale limbs and dark hair burst through the foliage.
Thalia.
