Ch. 7 Blood Beasts

"Lyra!" My father hissed behind me, thundering through the trees on my heels. Branches whipped past, stinging my cheeks and bare arms whenever I failed to block them.

"We need to save her, dad." I shot back, my voice a tense whisper. "We can't lose another one," I said, feeling panicky. The thought of losing even a single life was too much to bear. I pushed my legs to move faster.

We paused, straining to hear Carmella's call for help again. "Carm?" I asked tentatively, keeping my voice just above a whisper to avoid alerting the nearby humans. I prayed silently that we'd find her before they did.

"Help!" Another scream echoed through the trees, still distant enough that I knew she hadn't heard me.

"I don't think she knows a hunting party is nearby," my father said, urgency in his tone as we took off again. I nodded, saving my breath for running.

When we broke into the clearing, I felt my blood freeze, despite having my fire magic pulled forward and ready to use. Carmella dangled from a branch in one of the tallest trees on the outer edge of the field, her weight straining the fibrous splinters that were barely supporting her. If she kicked her feet too much, she'd surely fall. My gaze darted down to see-

"Blood beasts," my father breathed out beside me. 

"They'll rip her to shreds." I gasped, panic threatening to consume me.

The larger-than-life creatures, their skin blacker than coal and tougher than chainmail, paced beneath Carmella while she clung to the precarious branch. Luckily for us, they were so focused on her that they hadn't noticed us burst into the clearing and crouch down to assess the best plan of action. 

"No weapons?" My father whispered, worry etched in his eyes.

"Just my magic," I replied. He grimaced, nodding slowly.

He unslung his bow, notching an arrow in a fluid motion, and took aim. "We need to channel as much of our fire into this arrow as necessary to pierce that hide. You focus on heating the tip; it needs to be just hot enough that it doesn't melt the metal. Got it? I'll heat the path it'll take and set one of those trees on fire to distract them. If we do that, we should be able to take down one quickly, but the other will be on us before I can notch another arrow."

"Why can't we just boil their blood?" I asked, pulling my fire forward. It roared within me, ready to be unleashed.

"They're impervious to magic—a wicked side effect of the dark magic that creates them. Their skins absorb it, temporarily making them stronger. That's why we use magic around them—on inanimate objects—and then use those items against them," he instructed.

"So, what if I put up a wall of flames as soon as the arrow leaves your bow?" I suggested. My father nodded, deep in thought. "I could encircle it with flames if I act quickly enough."

He clenched his jaw, thinking. 

"Help me, please!" Carmella's voice rang out again, and I tried not to flinch at the terror woven into her plea.

"Let's do that, but you need to ensure you're only burning the grass and helping the fire flourish. You can't just blast pure magic fire towards them; otherwise we'll be in huge trouble," he warned.

I nodded, setting my shoulders to ready myself.

"And Lyra, if this fails—If we can't contain it—you run. You leave me to deal with it, and you run, got it?" His commanding tone brooked no argument.

I gave a quick jerk of my head to pacify him, but deep down, we both knew I wouldn’t listen. There was no way I could ever leave him behind."

"Ready?" He pulled back on the bow, and I concentrated entirely on the arrowhead, watching it glow with a deep cherry-red hue, like a smoldering ember. Then I reached out with my mind, feeling the path of grass I planned to scorch, heating it ever so slightly. I nodded, signaling I was ready.

"Now," he said as his bow twanged. I didn't see the arrow lodge itself into the beast; I had already thrown up my wall of flames, blocking our view. But the otherworldly scream of pain that followed the thunk of the arrow confirmed that it had hit its mark. Another roar erupted, louder and more furious, as the creature charged into wall after wall of my flames, desperately searching for a way through.

I felt every blade of grass char as it turned to ash beneath my flames, every oxygen molecule in the air feeding my fire as I reached toward them. Just as my father had grabbed another arrow off his back, a sharp pain lanced into my neck. 

"Let my beasts go," a low, gravelly voice commanded.