Of the nine horsemen, three were still mounted. Most of the others were unmoving lumps of dark cloth on the ground. Focusing on a single target, they wheeled their horses together and bore down on Elein. He looked around, eyes wild but there was nowhere to run. Commending his soul to the Holy Triad, he raised bow in a futile gesture. They were too close.

In the air, Sahlina hesitated. The twins yelled for Elein to move. Baruht, in the form of a giant bear loped toward the horses but was too far to make it in time. A blueish-white transparent shield, thrown up by the Flesh-Warden, flared into existence around the young prince, but Elein knew that it wouldn’t be enough- deflecting a sword blade wasn’t the same as preventing thousands of pounds of horse from trampling him.

Elein let one arrow fly, cursing as it flew past its mark- and the horses were upon him. He had just enough time to throw one hand up before a tiny hand grabbed him by the back of his tunic and yanked him into darkness. Falling, he screamed.