TWENTY SEVEN: PUPPETS
Before Seraph could run, the trees exploded with a spiky, black cloud that poured into the clearing. A flock of cawing crows dived and swooped around their heads. They circled, blocking out the sky. Then, as one, they launched an attack.
“Get inside!” Blott howled. “You’re as much a target to them as the cats were.” He winced, still in agony from his injuries.
Lowering his centre of gravity, he threw out a palm. Viscous blue liquid spewed from his fingers and sunk into the ground. While the moss bubbled and separated, he jumped and batted at nearby birds with his fists. It was all he could do to keep them away from his friend.
Seraph dived under some low branches and pulled them down to shield herself from attacks.
Deflecting a crow, she yelled, “Can’t you just c
