Falan grunted as he helped the last captive over the edge.

Arms crossed, lord Jalen stalked back and forth muttering nonsense and occasionally whipping his head around in startlement to imaginary sounds. “We need to leave! We need to leave, now!”

“I’m of the same mind as the lad there,” Bral, the older man-at-arms still with the company said, nodding toward the boy. The lordling eyed the soldier sharply. If the boy was in a state because of his ordeal inside the fissure, he still acted the lord.

They were right, of course.

Even two fellbeasts can finish the rest of us off, Falan thought as he scooped up the lady mage. She was warm, but still in a dazed state. He nodded to Leisa. “She will be all right.” The girl looked worried as ever. “The lady mage did not knock her head. With a few days rest and some good food—“

Ponderously powerful wind beats cut him off as everyone focused their attention on the sounds, their heads swiveling about to find where exactly it was coming from.

Those powerful wing beats were coming closer.

Closer still.

Abruptly fellbeasts entered the clearing, strong gusts of wind buffeting them from above.

The monsters howled and hissed. One of them alighted, flapped its colossal wings hard enough to send everyone to the ground. Falan fell to his back, shielding Sorela from taking any more rough treatment. When he was able to open his eyes his gaze landed on a red-robed monster, its clawed feet scraping against the rocks. It hissed a horrible, fiendish attack that physically buffeted them.

Bral was in its path path. The man-at-arms screamed, scrabbled to his feet, but it was too late. The fellbeast grabbed him.

“BRAL!” the other soldier nearby screamed.

Bral shrieked.

“Everyone,” Falan called. “Run!”

Still holding Sorela in his arms, he picked himself up and made for the crest of the basin they were in.

Bral’s screaming and shrieking seemed to travel through the air, but Falan didn’t turn to see what was happening, only hearing the poor soldier’s body crack against rock, all sounds from the man abruptly ending.

But then Falan did turn, his eyes landing on the stable boy Jasen. He seemed too shocked and stunned to get up. Instead he rolled into a heap near the fissure opening from the fellbeast’s powerful screeching barrage. He would be the their next victim.

Falan gritted his teeth. “Move, boy!”

“Jasen! Come on!” Leisa called, waving her arms like a madwoman.

The red-clad monster folded its wings, hissed with monstrous fangs as two more fellbeasts landed near the edges of the bowl, flapping their wings and buffeting them again. Falan fell back, tensed for the brunt of his fall to keep the lady mage safe.

They were surrounded.

The red-clade monster was in their midst while the other two encircled the rest of the fleeing group, forcing them back to the center. To their collective doom.

The robed one had to be their leader. A religious leader, or perhaps a shaman. It hissed again, uttered throaty commands to the others in that nightmarish language.

Using its talons, the leader began making strange movements in front of its body. Falan knew what those colorful runes meant.

Leisa yelped. “Get out of the way!” She shoved him aside, then jumped for cover.

A ball of flame materialized in the clawed hands of the fellbeast. It shot forward and hit one of the men-at-arms. He burst into flame—he did not even writhe, just shot backward in a streamer of fire, a sizzling mass of charred flesh.

Leaving the unconscious Sorela where she was, Falan unsheathed his sword and charged, arcing his blade.

Die, you whoreson!

The Serafe swung his blade to cut off its arm, but the creature strafed from his path, turned and struck him with a backhanded blow to the chest.

Falan landed on his back with a grunt, his body flaring with pain as the demon came forward for the kill.