Nightrise

Scar — over to his left. She had disappeared, but now she was back again, chopping and hacking with her own sword, keeping five or six half-human creatures at bay. Finn was close by. Jamie knew that the older man would never be far from her if he could help it. At the same moment he realized, with a jolt, of alarm, that Finn had been wounded. There was a gaping wound in his shoulder, which opened and closed like a bloody mouth as he moved — a blow from an ax that had almost taken off his arm. But he didn't seem to have noticed it. He had transferred his sword to his left hand and swung his blade. Another of the knights disintegrated into a swarm of black flies.
    Something slammed into Jamie's shoulder and he looked down, afraid he had been hit. It was an arrow, the tip laced with poison. He saw it just as it bounced off his shield, leaving a slight dent. A man-alligator snatched up the arrow and twisted around, planning to drive it into Jamie's leg.
    "Into yourself."
    Jamie thought the two words and watched in satisfaction as the creature turned the arrow on itself, driving the point into its own neck. The man-alligator howled in protest and crumpled to the ground.
    Then something blotted out the light. He just had time to see Scar staring at him in horror. Perhaps she was trying to warn him. But she was already too late. An enormous shape was hurtling toward him.
    Jamie looked up just as the hummingbird dive-bombed him, plummeting down at fantastic speed. Had it picked on him because it recognized who he was? Jamie knew there was no time to defend himself. His sword would be useless — the bird would split him in two before he had time to move. There was only one thing to do. He let go of the reins and threw himself backward, onto the ground. The world turned upside down and for a moment the armies were above him and all the fighting had become a swirling mass of noise and color and he was drowning in it. Then his shoulders slammed into the earth, his sword left his hand, and all the breath was knocked out of him.
    If he had waited another second, he would have been killed. As it was, the pointed beak of the hummingbird slammed into his horse, impaling it. The horse cried out— a terrible, deafening scream.
    Then the hummingbird pulled away. Jamie could feel the air being blasted by its wings as it hovered over them. The bird was searching for him, hoping to strike again. But then Erin appeared from nowhere and slashed at the bird's face, using the five knives that were his thumb and fingers, aiming for its eyes.
    The bird reared back and flew off. The horse collapsed on its side and lay still.
    Jamie had bitten his tongue when he fell and could taste his own blood in his mouth. Worse, he had lost his horse, his shield, and his sword. He still wasn't scared — there was no time for fear — but he suddenly wanted this to be over. Scar had been right about one thing: He had no idea how long he had been fighting. A few minutes or several hours? Either way, he was worn out. He'd had enough.
    But he knew he had to find Frost. He was lost without it. He looked around — and there it was, lying undamaged on the ground. But even as he bent to retrieve it, a man-pig holding a wicked-looking curved dagger scurried toward him. Jamie dived underneath it, grabbed Frost, then lunged upward. The sword buried itself in the creature's belly. Jamie jerked it out again, rolled over, and got to his feet. There were bodies all around him. Men and creatures fighting. Knights and horsemen. Everything was a blur. His neck was hurting. He touched his fingers to it and saw red. The man-pig had managed to cut him — but the wound couldn't be too bad. There wasn't enough blood. He let his hand fall. What now?
    And right then it all became clear.
    Ahead of him, there was an open space. It was as if the fighters had deliberately parted to create a circular arena. And in the middle of it, two figures were standing, facing each other. One was Matt. The other was the King of the Old Ones, the creature that had been given the name of Chaos. Matt had a sword, but he wasn't using it. Jamie could feel the power emanating from the first of the Five. Someone hurled a spear toward him but it never came anywhere near him. The air shimmered around him. The spear shattered. The pieces were spun away.
    "You cannot defeat me. Kneel before me and still I may let you live." Chaos did not speak. Instead the words radiated from him, ice cold and