Chapter 84
I sprint across the plains, my cheeks and fingers numb from the cold by the time I draw close enough to lock eyes with Essi, seeing flashes of shame in hers. Of failure.
None of which makes any sense.
A surge of panic urges me on as I note the way her arm is bound around her abdomen. The spray of red on her pale cheek.
She’s bleeding.
Shit.
A blow of wind, and the Mists encroach, threatening to wrap their foggy wings around us. Barks and cackles rake my nerves, the crowls no doubt conversing about our impending slaughter. Something that will absolutely come to fruition if we don’t get the fuck out of here.
I run harder, faster—my boots hammering the snow, punching holes that almost swallow my shins.
Essi drops the strap of the laden sling.
Takes three more wobbling steps and sinks to her knees, cloak puddling like a pool of ink.
She lifts her hand from her waist and looks at the blood dripping from her fingers—so vibrant against the pale surroundings.
The same red as her locks gusting about like a Sabersythe flame.
The sight does something to me. Punches through my chest, grabs my heart, and stuffs it in the snow.
She looks up—at me—exhausted resignation clouding her eyes as a shape emerges at her back. A large crowl gallops free of the Mists, its powerful gait at odds with its knobby limbs and sunken bits between protruding bones.
Teeth bared, it snarls—white eyes pinned on Essi.
Rage explodes behind my ribs.
I rip out my sword and leap. The beast leaps too, claws splayed, maw wide and frothing for Essi’s blood.
“DROP!”
She flattens against the ground.
I collide with the crowl in a clash of swiping claws and slitting steel, knocking it back, landing so hard a jolt lashes my spine. Guts spray as I hack the scrawny beast in two with a mighty heave of my blade.
I’ve barely regained my balance before another comes at us from the side.
With Essi still flat against the ground at my back, I whip my blade around just in time to sever the beast’s neck.
More blood paints the snow.
Another wail of wind churns the mist into a blinding vortex, smudging our view of the wall.
Of our exit.
“This fucking place,” I hiss past clenched teeth, spinning to see another beast prowl into my line of vision. It sniffs the air, tips its head, and bays to the sky.
I groan, easing into a deeper stance as the Mists come to life with a symphony of hungry howls.
Gaze narrowed on the beast’s unnerving eyes, I help Essi to her feet. Keep my left arm shielded across her while I survey our surroundings, watching multiple crowls skulk free of the swirling Mists—five.
Seven.
Nine.
Hunched low, their lips pull back from dripping maws as they take turns snapping at the air, hunting our weakest point.
“The moment the Mists part,” I murmur, eyes darting about, trying to anticipate which one might attack first, “I need you to run.”
“I don’t want to alarm you, but given how much I’m bleeding, there’s really not much point—”
One of the smaller crowls lunges into the open, striking for Essi’s side.
I whip around.
Essi’s gasp puffs against my ear, her fingers clawing into my bicep as I growl, thrusting my sword up like a pike. The beast impales upon it, screeching while its flesh, organs, and bones give way to the sharp intrusion.
It hits the ground with a mighty thud.
“Too late,” I grit out, using my boot as leverage to slide the corpse off my blade. “Consider me alarmed.”
The Mists chatter, scream, and growl, painting a grim mental picture of the pack’s vast size, eliminating almost every option.
Except one.
I stab my blade into the ground and reach into the pocket of my pants, still scanning the tight noose of snarling predators. “I hope you don’t have a thing against fire,” I mutter, retrieving my weald. “And apologies. This is going to get ugly.”
Essi pulls a soft breath as I flick back the lid and open myself to Ignos, struck with his hissing, spitting language—ravenous as always. Ever ready to chew something to ash.
“Geish athhh vill-vah sheith vakath, Ignos! Eeth atash éno—vui!”
The God of Fire roars in savage delight, not a moment’s hesitation before he plumes from my weald, expanding in a gushing torrent that churns around us. A whirlpool of flames, hungry to consume.
Panic erupts; screams, yaps, and howls cutting through the incinerating clamor and the greedy melody of a gorging god.
The air swelters, sour with the reek of burnt flesh and hair. So potent I almost gag.
At my back, Essi wobbles, sagging her weight into me, making me feel more important than I’ve ever felt in my entire dreary existence.
I stand a little straighter, find her hand and squeeze as the world around us burns, hating that she’s being forced to witness this. Wishing I could shield her from the dying sounds and the fucking smell.
She squeezes me back in silent acknowledgment, but then her grip loosens, her hand slipping free as she steps forward.
Away from me.
I spit another sizzling order at Ignos, just looking over my shoulder when the air shifts, lifting the hairs on the back of my right arm. I spin to see a flaming crowl, charging blindly, trying to escape the fire chewing on its hide.
I rip my sword from the ground and slash, decapitating the beast, ending its misery—
A shrill roar dominates the sky, and I become chillingly aware of the rhythmic thud-ump of beating wings. The daunting sound of a hungry dragon.
Creators, not now …
I look up, heart hitching as a ruddy Moltenmaw spears through the smoke, flicks out its wings, then carves its outstretched claws through the flames, snatching a fiery crowl.
“Fuck.”
That could’ve been Essi.
I need to get her out of here.
I turn, intent on tossing her over my shoulder and making a run for the wall, only to see her wobbling toward the barricade of fire. I have a split moment to process the vision before she steps into the flames.
And disappears.