There was no time for retribution. The chittering from the woods intensified, a symphony of scraping femurs and clicking mandibles that grated on the nerves. It was the sound of a nest disturbed, of ancient hunger awakened.
"Inside, now!" Kaelen roared, his voice a thunderclap that cut through the villagers' panicked screams. He shoved Lilith toward the relative safety of the lord's manor, his touch rough and devoid of any gentleness. "Anya, barricade the main hall doors! Do not open them for anything or anyone!"
His remaining soldier, Anya, was already in motion. She scooped up the rescued child, who clung to her neck without a sound, and sprinted for the manor's entrance. The villagers, finally jolted from their terror-induced paralysis, scattered like frightened birds, scrambling for their own homes.
Lilith stumbled, the world still a dizzying blur. The life force she had expended to heal the child had left a hollow ache deep within her, a cold emptiness that her Fae nature abhorred. She could feel her own vitality seeping away like sand through an hourglass.
Before she could fall, Kaelen's arm shot out, grabbing her by the scruff of her dress and hauling her along with him. He was not saving her; he was retrieving a valuable piece of equipment.
The first of the creatures burst from the treeline.
They were horrors of bone and earth, vaguely humanoid in shape but pieced together from the skeletal remains of animals and men. Dirt and desiccated flesh clung to their frames, and their heads were the grinning skulls of wolves or rams. They moved with a jerky, unnatural speed, their bone-claws scrabbling against the muddy ground. Bone-scrapers. Drawn to the bright, sudden flare of life magic Lilith had unleashed.
"Get inside!" Kaelen yelled again, giving her a final, powerful shove that sent her sprawling through the manor's open doorway.
He didn't follow immediately. He turned, drawing his longsword in a single, fluid motion. The blade, forged with obsidian and steel, hummed in the dying light. He met the charge of the first two Bone-scrapers head-on.
His movements were a brutal ballet. He was not a duelist; he was a butcher. He sidestepped a lunge, his sword cleaving through a creature's spine with a sound like snapping firewood. He spun, using the momentum to bring his armored elbow crashing into a wolf skull, shattering it into a dozen pieces. He was a whirlwind of controlled violence, a bulwark of black steel against a tide of chittering bone.
From the floor, Lilith watched, her vision slowly clearing. She saw the cold efficiency of his work. He was protecting the retreat, yes, but he was also containing a problem of her making. His fury was evident in every precise, lethal strike.
Anya slammed the heavy oak doors shut, the sound echoing through the hall. She dropped a massive iron bar into place, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The rescued child was now hiding behind a large tapestry, her small face pale.
The sounds from outside changed. The chittering was now accompanied by a frantic, percussive scratching and thudding against the doors and walls. They were surrounded.
Kaelen finally backed into the hall through a smaller side door, slamming it shut behind him. His breathing was steady, his armor unscratched, but his face was a mask of cold fury. He strode directly to Lilith, who was now pushing herself to her feet.
He stopped inches from her, his sheer size eclipsing the dim light from the high windows.
"This," he said, his voice dangerously low, "is the consequence of your sentiment. You saved one child. Now, because of your reckless display, this entire valley will likely be consumed. The creatures outside are drawn to life, and you just served them a feast."
He pointed a gauntleted finger at her. "You are my compass. A tool. Tools do not have feelings. They do not make choices. From this moment on, you will do exactly as I say, when I say it. Is that understood?"
Lilith met his glacial stare, the dizziness finally receding, replaced by a cold resolve of her own. She had made her choice, and she would live with it.
"Perfectly," she replied, her voice a whisper of ice.
The cage had just become much, much smaller.