63. Krait
Chapter 63
Krait
E verything around me happened in a blurred gray fog. None of my actions were my own.
So much rage roiled through my veins, yet they ran ice cold.
I longed to release that wrath.
The Moirai dragged in Firose and Emmerick first. Asterie, Hurley and Wyeth next. Then Elsedora.
My heart cracked.
Thousands of Moirai began climbing over the amphitheater walls and filling the stands. They stared with hunger into the pit, like piranha awaiting a bucket of chum.
“Nephew, you will end these new Origins before they rise. The Sources know that their younglings are no match for me. They bargained recklessly.”
New Origins.
On Death’s command, I turned and faced the group of Source-wielders. Their expressions were blank, eyes glassy—the effects of garrot root had taken hold of them. It wasn’t even a fair fight.
All the natural Sources were here, in one closed space.
Sun, Moon, Stars, Flame, Soil, Water…the Wind Source was unaccounted for. I wondered if the Commander, Cassidee, had evaded capture. Had they grabbed Elsie by mistake?
I tried to fight out of Caym’s grasp, tugging and pulling at the thread of my consciousness that allowed me free will. The more I fought, the more numb I grew.
Beside me stood my silver-haired…friend? Did I know him?
Things began to break at the seams—my ties to the world thinned. Everything seemed unimportant. The Moon-wielder looked clear-eyed, the only one who hadn’t been root-gassed yet.
He screamed, “Krait! Fight him.”
An internal growl from Caym told me that it infuriated him to be unable to control more of our Source magic at once. His energy waned from controlling so many Moirai.
“How could their prayer not have been enough? The people of Sahlmkar have not worshiped me properly,” he snarled into my mind.
So much Death, yet he craved more.
The Moon-wielder approached me and Caym made my Shadows wrap around his neck.
Death’s wrath mixed with my own as he wielded my Shadows against the other Origins. Dark vines snared Asterie, her young ward and Wyeth, cutting the air around them. I desperately tried to release them.
Why did it matter?
Their cheeks turned blue.
That woke me up some. I felt caged in a thick glass box; no matter how hard I pounded on the panes, all I could do was watch. My Shadows caught Firose, Elsedora and Mattock. Tendrils of darkness spanned everywhere, like black and amber roots climbing the amphitheater walls.
“Come out, little Isleen. You can stop this!” Caym screamed over the roar of his Moirai, who’d begun to descend from the stands.
Asterie struggled against my Shadows and let the wolf-demon out from the ink on her arm. The beast was immediately wrapped in gritty vines and pulled to the ground with a whimper.
The tether of Caym’s power forced me to squeeze the vines tighter.
I’d kill them all.
Everything felt numb. Cold.
Darkness shrouded the arena. Something was overhead. A giant serpent flew into the arena with a rider atop it—honey-toned curls blown back in the wind.
Sybilla…
Her presence returned some of my warmth.
“You are strong, so strong.” I tried to push the words to her and heard Caym’s internal growl again.
Then Caym faltered at the sight of the flying beasts. An opening.
I peeled back enough of my Shadows to release Ryn and then Elsedora. Ryn’s feet became unstuck, and he and Elsie began running toward the stage where Caym stood.
No sound left my lips as I tried to scream at them to stay away from Caym, to run from danger, not toward it.
Hope seemed lost.
They’d die by his hand or mine in this Sources-forsaken pit.