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With great effort, I rolled us. Releasing my death grip, I hobbled back. The throw had hurt, dammit. I didn’t think anything was broken, but I’d smacked my head on a rock and blood oozed down into my eye. My vision momentarily swam, and it sounded like a hive of bees had taken up residence in my head.

Given our current positions, I could easily see Lazarus and Grandmother over Jaakobah’s shoulder. Grandmother’s expression remained a neutral mask. Lazarus’s jaw was tight, and his horns had erupted, curling back from his forehead. His eyes were no longer the sapphire blue I loved so much but deadly crimson. I didn’t think the smoky haze surrounding him was a figment of my damaged vision.

Jaakobah’s wing lifted, blocking Lazarus from my sight. The right wing still worked, but he was struggling with the left. Blood slid down his side, dripping from Jaakobah’s feathers and pooling on the ground. While the blood was satisfying, it wasn’t nearly enough.

Stomping, Jaakobah rent the earth, digging great swaths out of it before he launched himself at me again. I was slower this time and didn’t move fast enough. Jaakobah caught me on the side, tearing into my chest and wing. I rolled, but this time, he followed. I saw his arm lash out, those wicked talons ready to slice me in half. Our combined momentum made it impossible to block. I mentally prepared myself for the blow, but it wasn’t me howling in pain; it was Jaakobah.

We fell apart, each of us crashing to the ground. Scrambling to my feet, glinting black caught my eye. There, on the nearby ground, laid one of Jaakobah’s broken talons.

Back on his feet, Jaakobah stared at the bit of himself he’d lost. Reaching up, I felt Lazarus’s diamond hard scale laying against my throat, protecting one of my most vulnerable places. Jaakobah had gone for the kill and come away a talon short, all thanks to Lazarus’s scale.

Fury radiated from Jaakobah. His damaged left wing hung, scraping along the torn-up field. His right wing uselessly flapped. We were both panting, our chests heaving for air as blood steadily littered the ground. And yet, this fight was far from over. Both of us had too much to lose to give up or give in.

This time, I made the first move, barreling toward Jaakobah, desperate to get the upper hand. Time and again, we clashed. Our bodies slamming into one another. Talons and claws grasping and tearing any piece of flesh we could contact. It seemed a never-ending cycle that would only end when one of us finally used up all their stamina. Unfortunately, I thought I knew which one of us would run out of steam first, and it wasn’t Jaakobah.

I needed to end this.

Crouched low, Jaakobah stood on the once-beautiful field, now torn asunder by thick, gouging ruts. I had no idea how he had enough energy to charge again, leaping into the air in great strides as his haunches propelled him upward and forward. By now, the sun was little more than shades of oranges, yellows, and purples. The light was fading but even still, I could see its pale glow under Jaakobah’s body as he leaped into the air.

Timing. It was all about timing.

Jaakobah leaped again. I didn’t hesitate. Pushing forward, I slid and rolled onto my back. There wasn’t much room, but as Jaakobah sailed overhead, I lifted my talons and claws just enough to pierce his soft underbelly. A great, keening wail sounded over my head and Jaakobah hit the ground chest first, his feathers and fur leaving a trail in the dirt.

Rolling to my feet, I shook out my feathers and cautiously walked toward Jaakobah’s fallen, heaving body. He struggled. Twice I thought he’d rise only to flop back down on the ground. Cries of “get up, Jaakobah” rang through the air as his supporters refused to accept the inevitable.

Blood oozed from under his massive form, soaking into the earth. Jaakobah’s breaths were quick and shallow. He’d lost too much blood, and I suspected the ground was the only thing currently holding Jaakobah’s entrails within his body. It was a grisly thought. I wouldn’t say I found satisfaction in it, but I wasn’t so hypocritical as to say I wasn’t relieved.

Jaakobah’s body shimmered, transforming back into his humanoid form. He lay there, splayed on the ground. The transformation hadn’t improved his condition. He simply no longer had enough power to hold his gryphon form.

Following suit, I also transformed. My body was beaten, muscles overworked and brutalized, skin lacerated and still bleeding. My head pounded, and I doubted there was a place on my body that wasn’t damaged. Still, I was the one left standing. I’d never thought my victory would be easy. I’d even considered I wouldn’t be victorious at all.

Murmured sobbing sounded from somewhere nearby but mostly, hushed silence filled the field as I made my way closer to Jaakobah’s dying body. Jaakobah’s cheek lay on the trampled grass. His eyes had faded to a ghostly pale gold, and his eyelids were at half-mast. Blood trickled from his mouth, pooling and matting his hair.

Going down on my knees, I barely registered others closing in around us. I’d recognize Lazarus’s fingers anywhere and blindly reached up, resting my hand over his when he placed those magnificent fingers on my shoulder. His silence spoke volumes.

Grandmother was there also. As were several other heads of nearby flights. Jaakobah wasn’t dead yet, but his life force was fading fast.

Jaakobah attempted to speak, but bloody bubbles got in the way. With a wet cough, Jaakobah cleared his throat enough to speak. “Y-you th-think you’ve w-won.” More coughing ensued, along with spine chilling laughter. “You may h-have d-defeated me, but…”—another wet cough—“I s-still win.” The light faded from Jaakobah’s eyes, his pupils dilating as death claimed him.

Shivers wracked my body. I was suddenly cold down to my very marrow. A warm blanket that carried Lazarus’s scent was wrapped around my shoulders. It helped, but I didn’t think even a raging fire could take away the cold.

“Come,” Lazarus said, his words a soft echo in my ears. When I struggled to stand, Lazarus steadied me.

Grandmother stood before me, her finery now decorated with splattered blood. When she raised her hand, her fingers grazing my cheek, I saw more blood coating them. Swallowing hard, I asked, “My father?”

“Dead,” Grandmother answered. “May Lavinia’s soul find true rest.”

“Keir!” I turned just in time to catch Phina. She’d grown since the last time I’d seen her, but she looked so much like our mother that it was impossible not to recognize her. My injuries protested, but I wouldn’t have released her for the world.

Squeezing tight, I closed my eyes and felt tears slip down my cheeks. Phina hugged me just as tight. “I was so scared, Keir,” Phina whispered. Her body shook harder than mine.

Finally releasing me, Phina slid down my front, her feet landing on the bloody and torn ground. Her widened eyes found Jaakobah’s body. I was on the verge of shielding her view when Phina pushed me to the side, pulled her leg back, and proceeded to kick the shit out of Jaakobah’s corpse.

“You’re a sick fuck,” Phina shouted as tears soaked her cheeks, falling and joining the crimson staining the ground. “I’m glad you’re dead.” Phina leaned over and spit on Jaakobah before finally backing away. Chest heaving and arms shaking, Phina glared at Jaakobah’s body before finally asking, “You killed him?”

“I did.”

“Good.”