His knee bent at an unnatural angle and he reeled sideways. His torch fell to the ground, still flickering. He moaned and tried to stand, but a dark shadow hit him on the jaw and he doubled over on the ground. Lawson was on him in a flash, drawing the hound away. Come out! he yelled. Stop hiding in the dark, cowards! All his fault. Edon was right. Romulus had recognized him, of course, and had pinpointed his location; it hadn’t taken them that long once the hounds found the right scent. Or was it Bliss who had led them here? He’d heard Edon accuse her as well. Had she led the hounds to them? He was confused and angry, but there was no time to dwell on mistakes just then. Draw them out of the glom, he thought, out of the shadow, where they will have to fight hand to hand. He leapt at the hound but caught nothing but air. He could hear his brothers doing the same dance, swinging at shadows, fighting phantoms, chasing after specters, Rafe grunting, Edon cursing, while the hounds surrounded them.
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