Black Moon Draw - Page 65/222

The first man reaches us. He raises his sword and I close my eyes, praying to pass out the first time they chop off something.

The medallion grows hot at my chest. Electricity sweeps through me in waves strong enough to sting. I jerk and grab the medallion by its leather necklace, holding it away. It's pulsing purple. "Goddamn that hurt!" I mumble. The sensation fades.

Sneaking a glance at impending doom, I sit up.

The six men around us are lying flat on their backs.

The squire unfolds from his tight ball huddled close to the ground. His expression is dazed.

The battlefield has gone completely silent. I look around, not comprehending what's going on. Are we stuck in slow-mo again? If so, why did the men around us fall down? They simply froze in place before.

The warriors of Black Moon Draw are standing around on the battlefield, their expressions ranging from baffled to triumphant, their movements at normal speed.

Their opponents have vanished.

The squire gives a loud whoop and hops to his feet, darting away.

Climbing up more slowly, I take in my surroundings and spot the Shadow Knight in the center of the crowd. With a sigh, I start towards him, trailing the squire sprinting at full speed towards the knight.

I trip over something and look down. There's a Green Dawn Cave man at my feet, sprawled out and unmoving. "Omigod!" Cringing at the thought of stepping on a dead man, I yelp when his eyes fly open.

He grimaces, wriggling and straining, as if he can't stand up. The flattened man beside him is grumbling and cursing, the half a dozen beside him wriggling and grunting.

Astonished, I search the knee-high grasses visually. Their entire army is flattened on their backs. Turning to face the direction the ill-fated squire had been headed, I'm shocked to see only horses where the army had been before. Light glimpses off sword blades and helmets as men squirm in the grasses at the feet of their steeds.

What the hell happened? Puzzled by the strange sight of men sprawled out as flat as . . .

Pancakes. My hand goes to the medallion. Did I somehow trigger this bizarre turn of events when I thought of pancakes?

"How weird would that be?" Shaking my head, I face the way back towards the Shadow Knight.

He's almost reached me, the joyful squire at his heels. "Good, witch," he says in approval.

My mouth drops open. "What? I didn't . . ."

He glares at me, eyes gray with battle lust.

"Sweet cakes!" the squire nearly squeals.

"That's what I was thinking of when it happened," I admit.