Goliath was racing toward Ailo when he saw Liyliy, in her owlish form, turn in the sky. She tucked her wings and rocketed toward them like a missile.
Ailo was backpedaling swiftly, holding Beverley up as if she were an offering to a sky god—but Liyliy’s monstrous nature was far more demonic than godly. He could see the strip of cloth tightening around the girl’s throat.
There were only seconds to save Beverley . . . save her from death or a fate worse than death with the shabbubitum.
With a few more steps and a leap he could place himself between the owl and the girl, and hope Menessos could use his ancient connection and mastery over her to compel Ailo not to strangle her.
As Goliath planted his foot, ready to propel himself up and into the huge owl’s path, he saw Menessos with his shoulders hunched inward, arms down. His face was contorted with concentration, but his fingers were arched, and sparks danced from his palms. His lips were moving in a chant Goliath could not hear until Menessos shouted, “Ailo, fly!”
He’s compelling Ailo.
Goliath had a millisecond to react, to decide if he would change his own plan. Or if Menessos, seeing him in action, would change his.
Before this night, Menessos had always been the master. He had always expected Goliath to defer to his will and his choices.
But even though so much had changed, Goliath could not cast away his faith in Menessos now.
The Haven Master slowed his momentum just as Ailo spun around. Her knees bent awkwardly. Her elbows straightened. . . .
Beverley fell from Ailo’s arms, landing directly on top of Goliath as Ailo launched herself into the air, soaring over them as she hurled herself up and into Liyliy’s path.
Liyliy, in her unnaturally large feathered form, was unable, or unwilling, to alter her trajectory as quickly. Her extended talons slammed into Ailo’s body.
The shrill owl voice filled the night. She beat her wings so hard the branches of nearby trees shuttered in the turbulence. Either the unbalanced, unexpected weight of her sister was too much to carry or she was trying unsuccessfully to hover and not land. She forced her legs back and forth, first pushing then pulling, trying to extricate Ailo from her talons—but her long, hooked claws had plunged all the way through her sister’s body.
Goliath tore his eyes from the horrific scene to examine Beverley. The silky gray fabric that still swaddled her was surely Ailo’s, but it no longer seemed enchanted. The strip that had wrapped the girl’s throat had slipped off and now lay dormant and unthreatening on the ground.
Liyliy continued bouncing along the ground, trying to resolve her predicament. More than once, her frantic and deadly movements came too close for comfort. Goliath rolled, placing Beverley behind him, shielding her with his body. He came to his knees and pulled her to him like an infant, then rose to his feet and fled.
Crouched behind the relative safety of a tree trunk, he watched the owl’s desperate efforts end as Ailo was torn in half.
The giant owl, screaming miserably, flew into the night sky.