Phoenix Chosen #3 (The Phoenix Guardians #3)

25. Tyler

25

TYLER

C rouched low, Jackson pauses to listen.

The ringing of metal on metal through the trees is like a bird call from behind us. I hear Kalistratos shout something that I can’t make out.

Please let him be okay.

The sound of a bowstring snapping and the vague woosh of an arrow come from somewhere off to our front. I can’t tell the exact direction, but Jackson looks at me and makes a chopping motion with his open hand. All I can do is shrug and nod. Obviously he’s done this kind of thing before.

He continues forward, and I see his improvised flamethrower clutched in his right hand.

The sound of movement. Footsteps in the foliage. We duck behind some bushes and wait. Peering through the leaves, the forest is still and suddenly quiet.

Where are they? I think.

Suddenly, Jackson shoves me hard, sending me onto my side as an arrow pierces the bushes and jams into the ground.

“In the tree!” he yells.

This was a mistake. Why the hell didn’t we just stay back where we were? Back where Kalistratos was?

With a thrust of his palm, Jackson summons and flings a cluster of stones and hardened mud into the tree line like a blast of buckshot. They tear through the leaves and rattle the branches, except for a small area in the boughs of one tall oak, where they crumble and fall harmlessly away as if stopped by some kind of force field.

I see a flash of dark fur and the glint of metal as an arrow is knocked to a cocked bowstring.

“Move!” I yell.

The sound of the passing arrow is like a goddamn missile. I feel my hair lift from the wind, and then suddenly a sharp, searing pain on my right shoulder. I look down and see that I’ve been clipped. It’s barely a scratch, but it’s enough to make me feel a surge of panic. Fight or flight.

If I run, I die.

I look up and see Jackson throwing himself out in the open like a fucking moron.

What the fuck are you doing?

Then, a big ball of fire roars out from his flamethrowing and curls into the canopy where the sniper is.

“ Get some !” Jackson shouts, waving the can back and forth to drench the trees in flames.

Smoldering leaves fall from the burning cluster of trees. Their bark is old and dry, and the flames are spreading fast.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that, huh, motherfucker?” Jackson mutters. “Where are you?”

I squeeze my fist around the stone in my sling and pull the cord taut. I catch movement in the trees to my right, a shadow moving quickly from branch to branch. It’s been a while since I’ve used a sling, but it feels comfortable in my hand. I whirl the stone in a circle and whip it with all the force I can muster, sending it like a gray bullet into the trees. It impacts with a loud crack, and the archer drops from a branch and lands on all four paws on the ground.

She stands and holds a hand to her forehead. Bright red blood trickles from under her palm, flowing down her fur and dripping across her black cloak. She hisses angrily at us. Jackson turns and holds out his flamethrower, but only a small cough of a flame comes out. He shakes the can and tries again. Nothing. Out of gas.

I drop to one knee and reach around for a stone, but the archer already has her bow drawn and ready.

“The egg.” The archer’s slitted eyes flick from my face to Eggy. “Give it to me.”

“How about no?” I reply. “You can shoot me with a thousand arrows. You’ll never get this egg from me.”

I can feel a rock beneath my hand. Above us, the fire jumps. It’s gone from a few burning branches to the start of something really bad. Gray ash drifts around us as flaming leaves drop like dying fireflies. I don’t know how I manage to get the rock into the sling, but I do. I don’t even aim. I just swing and throw—it’s pure instinct, all gut. I see the bowstring bounce as she lets the arrow go, and I brace for the pain of the impact. It doesn’t happen. Instead, in that split second, a sharp crack echoes as my rock strikes the oncoming arrow. Sparks fly, and both the rock and the arrow shatter. Jackson shouts in surprise and brushes fragments off himself with the same kind of frantic panic of someone who has just realized they’re covered with a swarm of stinging fire ants.

“Jackson!” I shout, throwing myself towards cover. “Move!”

The archer is fucking fast. Her target is Jackson, and she has an arrow in her hand.

Then a bolt of green energy flies over my shoulder and strikes the archer in her chest. She flies backward and slams into a burning tree, raining cinders from its crown onto her. She snarls in pain and surprise, batting the smoldering embers off her fur. Jackson runs to my side and pulls out his stun gun. There’s a strip of medical tape stuck to the grip, and he pulls it over the activation button and holds the thing up like a buzzing combat knife.

The cat leaps out of the way as another bolt of energy sizzles past and explodes into a shower of whirling sparks. Airos bursts out from the forest, clutching his staff in both fists. He hurtles two more blasts at the cat. She leaps and flips out of the way. I grab another rock and launch it at her head, but she easily backflips to avoid it. As she’s in the air, she grabs an arrow from her quiver and launches it. Airos swings his staff to counter it with another energy bolt.

It misses.

The bolt sails just to the right of the arrow, crackling benignly into the forest behind the cat. The arrow ricochets off a nearby tree and spirals into Airos’s shoulder. He staggers off balance and stumbles but catches himself on his knee.

“Airos!” Jackson and I shout.

No, it didn’t get his shoulder—he’s blocked it with the center of his staff.

The cat sprints for me, and it’s too late for me to do anything except guard Eggy with my body and brace for the attack. She slams into me with her shoulder and knocks me onto the ground, driving the air from my lungs. She pushes an arrow into her bow and draws the string, aiming it at my face.

“The phoenix egg,” she demands. “ Now.”