Maeve was already inside.
She had been at the horses' heads and she went up over the front board and into the cover in about a second and a half, and she got both arms around Halden's chest from behind and locked her hands and put her heels against the frame.
"*I'VE GOT HIM* — Ronan, ROOF—"
Ronan got round the side of the wagon and put the shield edge up into the thing's ribs and it did not let go.
It beat its wings.
That was the moment. James saw it from eleven metres away with absolute clarity — the wings came down twice, hard, in an enclosed space, and the canvas and the hoops and the whole top of the wagon lifted, and a fifty-year-old man in a bandage came six inches up off the boards with a woman's arms locked around his chest and her heels braced and losing.
He was not going to get there.
Eleven metres, a Harpy in his face, and a man being taken out through the roof of a wagon.
`[GRAVE STEP — 120 MANA]`
`[MANA: 1,850 / 3,100]`
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