Dreamless

Claire out of the way as he bent backward and to the side like a gymnast in midleap. The bronze blade whistled past his chest and buried itself a full foot into the half-frozen forest floor. Hector kicked savagely into the encroaching shadows, sending his attacker flying through the air and leaving the sword lodged in the ground.
    In one fluid motion, Hector raised his torso back to vertical and claimed the sword for himself. As he yanked it out of the ground he used the grip-stop-go momentum of the freed blade to slash across the chest the next figure that appeared out of the gloom, all the while moving faster than the beat of a hummingbird’s heart.
    Helen felt metal shatter against her cheek, and in the crippled light she saw the bright fragments of an arrowhead bursting into a dandelion shape under her right eye. She recoiled instinctively from the impact even though she was completely unhurt, and backpedaled until she bumped up against Claire’s leg with her heels.
    Helen stood guard in front of her mortal friend. Stunned and breathless, Claire couldn’t stand yet, and she certainly couldn’t run. Helen planted her feet in between Claire and the attackers and called up her lightning.
    The sound of a bullwhip snapping and the stale taste of ozone filled the air as light branched out from Helen’s hands, creating a latticed wall of electricity that protected her and Claire. The unnatural darkness created by the Shadowmaster fell back in the blue blaze and no fewer than a dozen armed Scions were revealed. Where had they all come from? Helen wondered frantically. How had so many crept up on them?
    At the center and to the back of the phalanx, in the place Hector had taught Helen was reserved for infantry officers, Helen caught a brief glimpse of a terrifying, alien face. It , whatever it was, had red eyes. It looked directly at her and then fell back until it was again covered in the Shadowmaster’s gloom.
    “Too many!” Hector grunted as he fought off two more men.
    “Behind us!” Helen yelled as she spun around and saw that four fighters were flanking them. She sent out a bolt of weak lightning—just enough to stun and not to kill them. Unfortunately for Helen, holding back her power required way more energy than just letting the bolts go.
    Helen felt dizzy. She forced her eyes to focus as three of the four men fell convulsing to the ground. The fourth kept coming toward her. She had used up most of the water in her body, which was already slightly dehydrated from running a distance race, and she didn’t have enough left to create another controlled bolt. She could still create one that would kill them all, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that.
    Jumping over Claire, who was still struggling to get her wind back, Helen threw a punch at the remaining Scion. Helen had never been good at striking, and her punch barely got his attention. He hit her back hard, knocking her down to the ground on top of Claire and making her ears ring.
    A dark shape streaked down from the sky, landed on top of Helen’s attacker, and sent him careening into the trees. It was Lucas. Helen’s breath caught at the sight of him. How could he have gotten here so quickly? she wondered frantically. Lucas looked down at Helen, his face impassive, and then threw himself against the main group of attacking Scions.
    Helen heard Hector bellow, and saw that several men were trying to fit chains and thick metal cuffs onto his arms and legs. She scrambled over to help him wrestle the bindings off while Lucas dealt with the fighters who were left standing. In a blinding blur of movements, Lucas had disarmed and injured two men before Helen even made it to Hector’s side.
    Seeing that his small army was no match for Helen, Hector, and Lucas, the creepy leader of the phalanx made a shrill chittering noise, and the onslaught ended as quickly as it began. The wounded were hiked up onto shoulders, weapons were retrieved, and the band of hit men dissolved into the trees before Helen could even brush the hair off her sweaty face.
    Helen saw Lucas turn his back on them and stiffen. Hector put his hands to his temples and dug the heels of his hands into the sides of his head, as if he was trying to keep his skull from splitting in half.
    “No, Hector! Don’t!” Claire yelled as she threw herself on top of him. She put her hands over his eyes and tried to block his sight so he wouldn’t see Lucas. Even with Claire nearly smothering him,