Death - Hide and kill

They soared straight up, parallel to the trunks, wings snapping branches and showering the Horseman with leaves and twigs. The barrels of both weapons turned inexorably downward, ready to add far deadlier precipitation to the deluge.
Death hurled the scythe from his left hand. It spun, up and or out, severing the branches in its path. The cannoneer easily swooped aside, dodging the swift but apparently clumsy attack. He snickered, tightened his grip on the trigger—
And fell, grunting in pain, as a particularly thick branch—Death's true target—plummeted from above and slammed him back to earth. The scythe followed, retracing its arc and returning to its master.
The half instant in which the other angel was distracted by his brother's fall was more than long enough for Death to dart aside and duck low, vanishing into the thicket of brambles.
He watched, peering between the thorns as the angel's eyes and weapon tracked this way and that, seeking a target. Then, when he found no obvious sign of the foe, the soldier dropped to check on his injured companion.
Just as the angel's boots touched down, Death lunged from the thorns. When he began the thrust, it was with one of the twin scythes. By the time the blade struck home, he held only one weapon; Harvester had become a long-hafted, broad-bladed spear.
The angel coughed once, and died by the time the sound had faded.

***

Chapter 3