They cut every last one of them free. When the final shroud was pinned and burned, the count came back and Kayla made them run it twice before she believed it. Wounded in the dozens, some badly, three of the wrapped archers unconscious and half-crushed, but breathing. All of them breathing. She stood a moment with her hand pressed to her mouth, let out one long unsteady breath, and then went back to work, because breathing was a starting point and her healers had a long night ahead of keeping it that way.
"Third build-up," Marcus reported from the rise, his voice careful now. "Big shapes. Very big. John said it never sends the same thing twice. He undersold how fast it changes its mind."
"I see them," Fraisea said. "Six signatures. Each one masses more than everything we have killed tonight put together."
