"No, something else." She twisted, gaze meeting his. "Do you know anything else? I'll cover my ears. I'll hide my eyes. If you know any magic--"
"I would use it." He held her gaze. "Truly, Moria. I have nothing more to fight with than my blade, and I can't get enough leverage--"
"Then we'll have to fix that."
She raised both her boots and slammed them into the bird's beak. The beast let out a tremendous roar and fell back. As she rushed from the cave, she felt Gavril grab for her feet and heard him shout. She lunged out and leaped up, daggers still clutched in her hands. The bird was there. Right there. Towering above her--that head diving toward her, a head as big as a horse cart, beak opening, that massive beak with those terrible teeth.
I'm dead, she thought.
The head slashed down, and sh
e leaped at it. Straight at it. Blades raised. One made contact, slicing into the bird's eye. It screamed then, a shriek that seemed to open the skies. Thunder and lightning and a sudden torrent of rain battered her as the bird yanked back, her blade coming free, her body falling, realizing only then that she'd been lifted clear off the ground by her strike. She hit the rocky ground so hard the air flew from her chest.
She saw a blur. Black fur raced past. Daigo launched himself at the bird. Then she heard a snarled shout and lifted her head to see Gavril there, in front of the bird, thrusting his sword up into its throat.
The bird let out a gurgling scream and whipped its head back, sending Gavril flying to the side, still clutching his sword. The thunder hawk's giant wings lifted as it prepared to take flight, blood pumping from its torn throat. Moria squinted through the torrents of rain to see Daigo still hanging from the bird's side.
"Daigo!" she shouted. "Jump!"
He did, but not before one last slash. He dropped, twisting and landing on all fours just as the bird took flight. It rose. Then it stopped and hovered there, bright, rain-soaked plumage shimmering as the sun pierced the clouds. Then it started to fall. Moria looked to see Gavril, still struggling to his feet, dazed. The bird was right above him, dropping fast.
"Gavril!" she shouted as she ran at him, sheathing her daggers.
He looked up and started to lunge. Moria caught him by the tunic and yanked. The thunder hawk landed, glancing off Gavril as it did, knocking them both off balance. Gavril recovered and raced to the bird, slipping and sliding on the wet rock. He raised his sword, ready to stab the beast in the breast. Then he stopped.
He stood there, rain pouring off him in sheets, the sun bright now, strangely shining through the rain, the light glinting off his sword. Moria could see him breathing hard, his green eyes seeming to glow as bright as his sword, bright with fury and determination and fear. Yes, fear. She could see that, in his face and in his stance, holding himself fast, gulping air, watching the bird, ready to strike the fatal blow. But it lay there unmoving.
Moria unsheathed her daggers as she walked over. Daigo followed her, creeping through the rain, head down, as if he could avoid getting wet.
She walked to the bird and looked down at its ruined eye and bloody throat. She kicked its beak. It fell open, but the bird didn't move. Another kick, just to be sure, then she sheathed one dagger and turned to Gavril.
"It's dead," she said.
"You . . ." He looked toward the cave. "You just ran out . . . you could have been killed."
She sheathed her other dagger. "Yes, it was foolish. Exactly what you expect, I'm sure."
"No, not foolish. It was . . ." He seemed to search for a word, then looked down at the bird as if in shock. His gaze turned to her. "You don't fear anything, do you, Moria?"
She gave a short laugh. "Oh, there was plenty of fear. I'm glad it's raining, because I'm not completely sure my breeches would have been dry."
A quirk of a smile. "A warrior isn't supposed to admit fear."
"Then I suppose it's a good thing I'm not a warrior."
"No, you are." He paused, meeting her gaze. "You truly are."
She felt her cheeks heat and covered it by kneeling beside the bird. The rain was easing now, and with the sun shining, the colorful plumage glittered.
"Sadly, I can't claim the killing blow," she said, ducking to look at the bird's throat. "Good work, Kitsune."
He didn't answer. She could sense him walking up behind her, but she kept examining the bird.
"I meant what I said in the cave, Moria. I don't know anything that could have helped."
"I know."
More silence. He was right behind her now. She swore she could hear him breathing.