Mary was busy saddling Greyquill while Erin spoke quietly with a bemused Josias, when Mathias ducked under the flap and came into the roost. He wrinkled his nose at the odour that Erin no longer even noticed, and grimaced as he looked dismissively around.

  His eyes passed over Erin with nary a flicker of acknowledgement before alighting on Lady Sarah. He strode carefully across the roost towards where she was dressing in her flight gear, eyes glittering in the light of the lumina orbs that filled sconces around the rooms wall.

  “Young miss?” Josias said, and Erin dragged her attention back to him.

  “What? Sorry, ah…” she shook her head, face scrunching up as she tried to regather her thoughts. “Ah, yes. So… do you think you can do it?”

  “To make something like that would take, perhaps eight weeks,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I can do it, well enough, if you provide me with some drawings to work from.”

  “I can do that,” she said, eyes flicking towards the wizard who stood talking with Lady Sarah, apparently uncaring for her being in a state of undress. “But eight weeks is too long.”

  “Could do it in half the time if I adjust what we already have,” Josias mused, nodding. “Bring me the drawings, and I’ll start work.” He grinned, showing crooked and yellowed teeth. “Interesting idea, miss. I’d be curious to see if it works.”

  “It will,” Erin said. “I’ll bring you something tomorrow.”

  “Aye, as you will.” He made a show of tugging his forelock before turning away and heading over to help Mary. A show of respect that Erin didn’t even notice as she stared daggers at the wizard.

  The worst of it was, he didn’t seem to even notice the soft curves and smooth, white flesh that Lady Sarah was displaying. His eyes were fixed on her face, and he spoke quickly.

  Why that infuriated her, Erin didn’t know, but it did, and she seethed about it as she stared.

  When the wizard finished speaking her turned away without even a slight acknowledgement of Lady Sarah’s rank, which left the noblewoman staring after him, bemused before she shook her head and went back to dressing.

  Mathias picked his way across the straw covered floor towards Erin. Bright chirped softly, picking up on her agitation, and turned his amber eyes on the wizard. He fluttered his wings, feathers rising and Erin reached out to stroke his neck, calming him as she watched the wizard approach.

  “This is where you choose to spend your time?” Mathias said, looking around.

  The almost dismissive manner as he glanced around the roost only deepened her irritation and a muscle in her jaw twitched as she held her tongue.

  Though not for long.

  “Why are you here?”

  He turned his attention back to her, head tilting to the side as he studied her. “You are angered?”

  “A stunning observation,” Erin muttered. “What do you want?”

  “I am forbidden from the wall.” A shrug of his shoulders as if that mattered little to him other than for the inconvenience it might cause. “I thought, perhaps, you would be here as you are unable to yet fly.”

  “Bright can fly,” Erin said through clenched teeth. “We both can.”

  “Then why are you not readying him?”

  She had no immediate answer to that, which irked her all the more. She turned and brushed Bright’s feathered mane as she searched for an answer and came up short. Instead, she ignored the question and twisted her head to look back at him.

  “You can stay,” she offered nonchalantly. “If you want.”

  “Very well.” He glanced around, grimacing. “Are there perhaps chairs of some kind?”

  “No.” It was Erin’s turn to smirk, enjoying his discomfort. “The straw’s plenty comfortable for us.”

  A soft sigh was his only answer, and he stood, awkwardly, eyes drawn to the lumina orbs. No doubt he had seen plenty of them, and maybe even made some of his own as they were a simple enough item to make and sold all over Ratan.

  His attention didn’t linger long, and he switched his attention to Lady Sarah as she mounted Greyquill. They trotted out of the roost and Josias followed after her, off to the small home nearby that he shared with his wife.

  Mary went with him, leaving Erin alone with Brightcrest and the wizard.

  “There are no doors to lock?” he asked, curiously. “Why is that?”

  “The Shadowbeasts don’t attack the farm animals, and the roost is usually empty.” Erin shrugged. “They don’t figure it’s a danger to leave the roost unguarded.”

  Mathias studied her in the soft glow of the lumina. “You disagree?”

  “Yes.”

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  It was why she had the pistol hanging from her belt and the sabre unsheathed and lying on the straw beside her, ready for use should the need arise.

  “What of this beast?” Mathias asked, taking a small step closer to Bright but keeping a respectful distance. He leaned in, peering at the gryphon. “Is he distressed?”

  Erin gaped at him. “You can’t tell?”

  “I have no power to read the minds of beasts.”

  With a shake of her head, Erin rolled her eyes. “No,” she said, stroking Bright slowly. “He is calm and at ease. When the Shadowbeasts attack, it might be different, but I think he will be more eager to fight than flee.”

  “A warrior.” Mathias nodded, chewing on that word. “A noble creature. He is very… nice to look upon.”

  Erin giggled as she realised, he was actually trying to be complimentary about Brightcrest. She watched him from the corner of her eye, wondering why he was trying. What it was that he wanted, or if, perhaps, he was trying to be nice because of her.

  A thought that set her stomach to tumbling and twisting, as she felt her heartbeat speed up.

  “Perhaps-“ he cut off as a bell began to ring and they both turned instinctively towards the roosts entrance, and the settlement beyond.

  An alarm.

  They were coming.

  Twenty-nine of them, because no bodies had been stolen away last time. Erin wondered if that would be the same this night and shivered at the thought.

  “More will die,” she whispered, eyes shining. “How long can we keep this up?”

  Mathias didn’t answer, he just stared at the entrance, head tilted to one side as he listened, a habit of his she had noticed. His hand strayed towards the wand on his belt, and her brow furrowed as she noticed fresh carvings upon it.

  “You’ve added new runes,” she said, and he gave a slight nod, though didn’t turn. “What do they do?”

  “Hush,” he said, the bell’s had stopped.

  Which could mean only one thing.

  The thunderous roar of forty plus muskets being fired rumbled over the settlement and Erin held her breath. Bright chirped, wings flapping, as his feathers stood on end. She counted the seconds, reaching twenty-three before a second rumble sounded.

  Two volleys.

  Soon, a third.

  Then there came the distant crack-crack as muskets were fired separately, the order given to fire at will. The enemy too close to use another volley.

  And then screams.

  The Shadowbeasts were on the wall.

  “Why do they not build more defences?” she wailed, as she backed away from the entrance, and the sounds of men dying beyond, pressing herself against the comforting presence of Bright.

  “Because these monsters may look like beasts, but they do not think like them,” Mathias replied, his voice oddly calm. “Dying matters not to them, so they rush in and attack in a full-on assault. Their intention is not to win these battles.”

  “What is it then?” Erin asked, voice shaky as she tried to control her fear.

  Mathias did look back then, eyes glittering beneath his hood. “Why, to kill as many of our defenders as they can.”

  For a moment, Erin just stared back, not understanding and then it came and with it, the tears began to fall silently, rolling down her cheeks.

  The Shadowbeasts didn’t need fancy tactics because when they died, they would be reborn. Their losses mean nothing, but for the settlers, every life lost was one that could not be replaced.

  The monsters didn’t need to win each night, it was a war of attrition, and they knew that eventually, there would be too few soldiers to defend, and then they would have free rein of the settlement and all who hid in fear within.

  “Why do the people not fight?” she whispered. “Surely, they could help.”

  Another shrug from Mathias. “They are not soldiers; they are farmers and craftsmen. More of a hinderance than a help, and more bodies that could be stolen away.”

  Erin wanted to scream out her frustration. It was wrong! She was ready to believe the island was cursed, like the others believed. Some foul darkness at the centre of paradise, a rot from within that would destroy the colony and all who tried to live there.

  “May the Lost protect us,” she whispered, reciting the words of the prayer from memories of a safer time, when she had been with her family at home. “May the Lost find our souls and guide them to the world beyond.”

  Mathias didn’t reply, he just stood, between her and the entranceway, gaze fixed upon it.

  “What is-“ She didn’t finish.

  The leather flaps covering the entrance burst inwards as two Shadowbeasts leapt through. They stopped, legs spread and shoulder muscles bunching as they looked around the roost, noses lifted as they sniffed the air.

  Mathias had his wand out and in his hand in an instant. He spoke a string of words, and a pulse of light leapt from the end of the wand, striking the lead Shadowbeast and sending it rolling across the straw-covered floor.

  Several runes flared and went dark, including one of the new runes on his wand.

  The other Shadowbeast leapt into action, galloping towards the wizard.

  Crack!

  It dropped, a hole where one of those pitch-black eyes had been. Smoke rose from the barrel of Erin’s pistol, and she gaped at the dead beast.

  She’d hit it!

  But the second was back on its feet. It shook its head, a low rumbling growl coming from its throat, steam rising from the burned patch along its side where the jolt had hit. Its black eyes fixed on Erin, and she had the frightening thought that it recognised her, that it was looking for her in particular.

  She dropped the pistol and reached for the sword as Mathias cast another spell. Sweat sprang out on his skin, and he grunted as light flared on the tip of his wand.

  The Shadowbeast turned its large lupine skull towards him, and he smirked. “That should hold it,” he said. “It will be interesting to-God’s Below!”

  It leapt, crossing the eight feet between them and colliding with the wizard. Blood sprayed into the air, as he yelled! The creature’s claws sank into his chest, tearing at the flesh there. Bright was on his feet, lunging and snapping at the beast as Erin jumped at it, swinging her sabre over her head and down with all her strength.

  The Shadowbeast retreated, blood leaking from deep slashes along its side. Mathias moaned, blood seeping out onto the straw beneath him, as he stretched out, hand reaching for the wand he had dropped.

  Taking slow steps, the Shadowbeast circled them as Erin stepped closer to Mathias, standing over him protectively. Bright, his eyes fixed upon the beast, followed its movements, waiting for a chance to strike.

  Mathia’s hand closed around the wand, and he rolled over, thrusting the wand towards the beast as he yelled the words of a spell, fury giving them power.

  Another pulse of light.

  The creature howled.

  Bright leapt in, beak stabbing down, talons ripping and tearing.

  Then all was still.

  The beast lay dead.

  And Erin dropped to kneel beside Mathias, her hands reaching to pull open his robes.

  Pale skin and blood lay beneath ragged strips of cloth, all that remained of the shirt torn by the beast’s claws. The wounds were deep, the blood hot, and flowing fast. She looked at him in despair, not knowing what to do.

  Then she turned her head, looking across at Bright.

  “Please,” she whispered. “I need you.”

  As if hearing her words, Bright stopped ripping at the flesh of the Shadowbeast and turned his amber eyes on her, and the fallen wizard. He trotted over and lowered his head, nudging her with his bloodied beak.

  Erin reached up, rubbing his beak, heedless of the blood upon it, and sobbed, a hiccupping cough.

  “Help me,” she said. “To get him to the healer.”

  Bright stared at her and gave a single chirp. He unfurled his wings, ducking his head.

  He was ready.

  To fly.