River saw him before he saw her.
She was on her knees, held by two dark Fae soldiers, fifty yards from Atlas's body. Her wrists were bound with dark-magic restraints that pulsed against her skin, and the pink glow of her eyes was building behind them with a pressure that the restraints were visibly failing to contain.
She saw Tristan cross the clearing. She saw the dark veins covering his face, his neck, his hands. She saw the combat armor holding his body together when his body had abandoned the effort. She saw him cut through two more soldiers with a blade that was shaking in a hand that shouldn't have been able to hold it.
She saw the spear.
It came from behind. A dark Fae soldier, positioned in the treeline at Tristan's back, threw a pike augmented with the same dark magic that was already killing him. The weapon entered below his left shoulder blade and exited through his chest, and the impact drove him forward three steps before his legs understood they were done.
"NO."
