The first bird struck Jiang hard enough to turn him sideways.
Its split tail snapped across his face. Black claws closed on the bare place below his jaw, found wet skin instead of the feather scent they wanted, and released.
Jiang slid down the root.
Aylin caught at him from above. Her fingers scraped his back and lost purchase in the wet coat.
Three more birds folded their wings.
"Under the branch," she shouted. "Jiang, get beneath it!"
He already wanted the same shelter.
The lower root curved away from the ridge and ended in open air. Beneath it, a clear river channel hung between red branches, its living walls thin enough to show silver animals fighting the current inside.
No dry path reached it.
Jiang let himself drop.
Cold water closed over his head while claws struck the surface where his back had been.
