Kingdom of Ash

slow.
No.
No.
Not like this. Anything but this.
Manon slung her bow over her back, half-
frozen fingers fumbling with the straps and
buckles of the saddle.
She couldn’t bear it. Wouldn’t bear it, this
death, his pain and fear before it.
She might have been sobbing. Might have
been screaming as his wingbeats faltered
again.
She’d leap across the gods-damned wind,
rip that bitch from the saddle, and slit her
mount’s throat—
Abraxos began to fall.
Not fall. But dive—trying to get lower. To
reach the ground, hauling that bull with him.
So Manon might survive.
“PLEASE.” Her scream to Iskra carried