Chapter 15 #2
Ciaran cut his eyes at me. “You know you can trust me with anything, Seren.”
That was true. I would trust Ciaran with my life.
“I’m not saying this because of how I feel,” Ciaran muttered, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that left no room for jest. “I just don’t trust him, Seren. He’s not one of us, and you’re tied to him in a way none of us understand.”
A faint, shivering whisper seemed to carry in the dark shadows of the forest behind us and I tensed, looking over my shoulder, suddenly uneasy.
Great. Now I was letting Ciaran’s doubts control my fears. As if it weren’t bad enough having Rykr’s emotions confusing mine through the bond.
I pushed my fears aside and found my friend’s earnest face.
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget—meet me at the stables just after dawn. Tara said she wanted to go to the training fields.” I left him in the field, heading toward the forest. The festivities would likely go on until morning. I’d never seen everyone so excited before.
The air cooled farther away from the warm drifts of the bonfires.
As the music of the festival turned into a distant din, the tall grasses met the tree line of the deeper forest. The surrounding woods appeared empty and still, but I drew my sword anyway, Ciaran’s warning about Seth ringing in my head.
I didn’t think Seth would hurt me—he knew better than to attack me outright—but scare me?
Yes, I could see him doing that.
After his fury in flogging Rykr, Seth’s threats had become corporeal, hanging over me, ready to strike.
The last few days had been a tangled mess, leaving me unsettled in ways I hadn’t fully processed.
A royal massacre was disturbing enough, but the changes happening to me because of the bond with Rykr?
That scared me even more. The blood oath I’d taken hadn’t seemed dangerous at the time, but it was dark magic all the same. Unpredictable and unwieldy.
My parents’ tent loomed up ahead, and mine was just yards away from it.
I paused, bracing myself for another inevitable confrontation with Rykr.
The messiness of our arrangement bothered me—and yet we had to rely on each other to stay alive, as my mother had said.
Would anyone try to hurt one of us to get to the other, like he’d suggested?
It didn’t seem beyond the realm of possibility.
“Rykr? I’m back,” I said, pushing my way into the tent.
Empty.
The dagger he’d tossed earlier was gone.
As the ground seemed to tilt beneath me, my heart slammed into my ribs.
Godsdammit, I never should have left him alone.
Turning on my heel, I fled back into the cold night, fear closing in. If he’d tried to escape, he’d be caught and killed immediately. No trial, no sentence. Just instant execution.
Panic rose as I knelt, searching for any tracks or sign of his movement. A faint line of disturbed leaves trailed through the forest—the drag of irons marking his path.
Solric, help me. He’d had hours alone. Who knew how far he’d gotten?
I reached into my satchel, dusted my fingers with spell powder, then whispered a light spell. A small, golden globe flared above my palm, casting a glow on the ground. Rykr’s trail was clearer now, but the light risked drawing attention.
A rustle through the leaves sent my pulse to a sprint. Someone else was out here.
Turning my head toward the sound, I listened.
Nothing.
But my heart sped regardless. Something moved deeper into the woods—as though fleeing at the sight of me.
Rykr?
Lengthening my stride, I followed.
Maybe I should have let Ciaran walk with me.
The rancid stench of death hit me.
My senses quickened, more alert. A wisp of a breeze tickled my cheek and the hairs on my forearms, and the forest was alive with the sounds of frogs and the birds of prey that stalked the treetops.
Something was dead near here.
I followed the scent. Hopefully just an animal. Scouts usually removed any dead carcasses from our territory, to keep the stench at bay. Considering that this one was on the route between the encampment and the market field, it should have been dealt with by now.
Water gurgled from a nearby brook, splashing over stones. Beyond it stood a stump of a tree.
The smell is coming from the tree.
The thought was mad, but my gaze fixed on a dark lump in the center of the stump.
Cold water filled my boot as I stepped into the brook and crossed, drawn by the putrid stench.
In the pale, silvery moonlight, the dark shape on the stump took form.
A human heart.
A scream ripped from me and I staggered back, clutching the hilt of my sword.
A rustle came from behind a tree.
Giulia Bernardi stepped from the shadows, the distinctive yellow dress she’d worn earlier still draped around her frame.
Relief surged through me and I gasped out a breath. “Oh gods, it’s just you, Giulia—”
She turned toward me and I stepped back. A gaping hole yawned in the center of her chest. Her skin was blueish, and the reek of decay came from … her.
Run.
My feet stayed rooted in place, as though lead had wrapped around my ankles. A rush of nerves pierced my skin, but my mind didn’t seem to fully comprehend what I was seeing—Giulia had been turned into a skinwraith, a hideous monster of the living undead.
I’d never seen one before. Barely believed in them, despite the stories.
The sight of her—of what was left of her—made every inch of my skin pebble in gooseflesh. The Giulia I’d seen laughing just hours ago was gone, replaced by this twisted, decaying thing with lifeless eyes.
This can’t be real.
But she stepped toward me, and some primal instinct in me snapped. I grabbed a dagger and hurtled it toward her.
The blade sunk into the cavern of her chest, then thudded to the ground.
“Run, dammit!”
The deep voice in my head wasn’t my own, but it shattered my paralysis. I tumbled backward, my hand slamming into a thorn-covered bush. Pain pricked my palm, warm blood blooming over my skin. I spun and lunged for the stream.
Tales said fire could destroy them, but there was none close enough. My grip tightened on my sword. If brute force wouldn’t work, I needed another way.
My boots plunged into the water, slipping on algae-covered stones. Once on the other side, my knee slammed into the soft earth. Before I could stand again, a hand grasped my vest, yanking me.
I slashed my sword at Giulia, carving deep gashes into her thighs, but she barely reacted. An unearthly growl rumbled from her throat as her icy hands clamped around my forearm, pulling me into the water.
Fluid filled my nostrils. Gagging and choking, I thrashed. Kick. A coughing fit was coming on. Slash. The sword felt loose in my hand, my grip unsteady.
She’s going to kill me.
Cold air smacked my skin as Giulia lifted me as though I was weightless, then hurled me toward a tree.
The impact sent bright spots of light across my vision. A sickening crack splintered in my ribs, pain following a beat later, slow and searing, as I hit the ground.
Somehow I’d kept my sword, but with my side screaming in pain, it was useless in my hands.
Giulia stalked toward me, her face a mask of pure evil, her lifeless eyes glowing with an eerie yellow light, deep inside the pupils.
After an excruciating breath, I staggered to my feet, working through the searing pain that threatened to rip my senses apart. If I didn’t do something, she’d kill me. With every ounce of strength, I drove my sword deep into her gut.
She didn’t stop. Didn’t flinch.
A chill seeped through my skin where her decaying hand gripped me, the touch of death itself. My breath caught as her rotting flesh pressed into my arm, and nausea coiled within me. No matter how deep I cut, she kept coming, relentless, unstoppable.
A fragment of memory surfaced—a passage from a book.
The damn creature had to be decapitated.
“Seren!”
Rykr. He ran toward me as best he could with his irons still on.
Where in Nyxva did he come from?
And why is he soaking wet?
Giulia turned at the sound of his voice.
As she did, Rykr swung—the heavy irons on his wrists slamming into the side of her skull.
She snarled, rabid and furious, teeth bared as she lunged at him. The shift in her focus gave me an opening. I couldn’t retrieve my sword from her body, and my daggers were useless.
I spread my fingers, summoning jagged ice. A sharp, crystalline blade formed in my grasp and with a swift stroke, I cleaved through her neck.
Giulia’s head hit the ground.
I stared at it in horror, half-expecting it to keep moving. Then the body disintegrated into black, hissing vapor, stretching out and enveloping us in a cloud of shadow.
Then it vanished.