Chapter 47 #2
They jumped—barely. The spiked tail missed by inches.
The Vorash screamed toward the open sky, its cry warping the very air.
In her arms, Little Gus jolted awake. His neck twisted toward the sound, eyes narrowing, teeth bared. A soft glow built inside his mouth.
He vibrated against her.
Then—without warning—he launched from her arms like a hurled spear.
Kai burst into the cavern like an arrow loosed from a bow. Her boots skidded across wet stone. The spray stung her eyes.
Ahead, Fala crawled free of the geyser, gasping. Soaked. Alive.
Usti clambered to his feet. His gaze climbed Kai’s frame—
Recognition flared.
Then fear.
He yanked Fala over by the arm and brought his knife up and around—
Fala yelped, then froze as the blade stilled over her throat.
Kai halted, and Atsadi nearly collided into her.
Inola rose, soaking and wincing, clutching her wounded arm. “Usti,” she rasped. “What are you doing?”
Kai’s fingers buzzed from the weight of her sword. “Spill a single drop of her blood, and I’ll mount your head where the clans can watch it rot.”
Usti’s knife pressed deeper into Fala’s throat.
Atsadi took a half-step, hands raised. “Brother, you don’t want to do this.”
Usti’s eyes flared with heat. “I’m not your brother. My true brothers stood with me today.”
“And yet,” Atsadi said, taking a pointed look around, “you stand here alone.”
Fala shivered. Tears lined her lids. “Please,” she whimpered.
“Shut up,” Usti snarled, jostling her. Then, to Kai, he said, “You should be dead.”
Kai smirked. “Poison is the weapon of spineless men. You should have faced us with the same steel you turned on our elders.”
Inola’s eyes widened. “What? What did you do?”
“We need a clear slate,” he spat. “New leadership. A new way of life.”
Fala shifted slightly, her eyes locking onto Kai’s.
A blink. A breath. A plan.
Kai saw the quick shift in Fala’s balance, just enough to loosen his hold. Fala slammed her heel down on Usti’s instep. She drove her shoulder forward the way Kai had taught her—
Usti cursed and reeled back. In a breath, he targeted Fala.
That quick span of time felt like an eternity. Kai saw the decision enter his eyes. Saw his grip whiten around the knife hilt. She felt every unfathomable inch of space between her and Fala—
Usti thrust his knife forward—
Inola appeared in that space like a ghost.
Usti’s knife plunged into her stomach.
Her eyes went wide. Pain. Shock. And then… Peace.
“No!” Usti staggered back, eyes going wild.
Inola crumpled to her knees with a soft gasp.
Usti’s rage-filled eyes landed on Fala again.
Fala jerked out of his reach. Her foot caught in the slick path and she slipped—
The current took her. Dragged her toward the ledge. She scrambled for purchase.
“Fala!” Kai screamed, her voice swallowed by the roar of rushing water.
Atsadi was already moving, a blur, sprinting through the deluge. His boots scraped wet stone, his hand outstretched.
Fala slipped closer to the ledge, feet going over—
Atsadi dove.
Little Gus caught the Vorash in his claws.
The impact cracked like thunder. Black feathers exploded in a cloud as the two beasts collided.
Fury, rage, and violence pulsed through Selene’s mind—raw, feral, not her own. Flashes of void-black eyes. Blood. Bone.
The unholy beast dared attack from behind.
Removed him from his sacred duty.
He would not fail them. Not this time.
“Selene!”
She blinked, her vision clearing.
Augustus clutched her face, worry etched in every line. Behind him, battle raged. Steel clanged. Voices roared. Beyond the shoreline, ships were locked in cannon fire, sails torn and mastheads crumbling.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Selene scanned the sky.
Little Gus streaked by, flames streaming ahead. The Vorash shrieked and reeled from the blast, but it’s longer wings surged, forcing their battle higher, faster, into the gathering storm clouds above.
“Yes,” Selene finally answered. “It’s Gus. His thoughts and feelings… They’re overwhelming.”
Augustus nodded and glanced up briefly, then across the dunes. “My dad...”
There was no sign of Mettius now. Nor Thorne. Only scattered prints in the sand.
“I need to go after him,” Augustus said.
“We,” she emphasized. “We go after him.”
He’d have to knock her unconscious if he thought about leaving her behind.
Augustus swept a thumb across her cheek and let loose a heavy breath. “We.”
Weapons sheathed, they ran, kicking up sand with the sounds of battle to their backs. Little Gus was a storm inside her skull—claws, fury, fire. She’d never known him to be this furious. Or deadly.
Overhead, the Vorash shrieked and reeled away from an incinerating blast.
Little Gus spun around for another attack, claws going for the Vorash’s throat. They locked midair.
The Vorash slammed him down, a crashing blow that sent Gus spiraling toward the ocean. He righted himself, wings flapping wildly, pulling himself back into the sky.
Augustus took Selene’s hand as they reached the dune and sprinted up the side, the sand even less forgiving on the incline.
Halfway up the dune, pain ripped through her, hot and electric. Not her own. It took her to her knees.
Augustus fell beside her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, she searched the sky for the source. The Vorash dragged Gus toward the clouds, then barreled down again, wings tucked.
Selene scrambled to her feet, holding tight to Augustus’s arm. Together, they climbed the dune and watched in horror as the creatures disappeared over the dune’s edge and into the village behind it.
“Gus!” she screamed, driving her steps harder, her legs one solid burn.
All at once, her bond with the dronsian erupted, pain slashing through her like a blade. A scream tore through her mind, too raw to be her own. Blood. Bone. Fire. And then nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Silence.