Chapter 31 #2
“Fiery hell,” Drazen spat, ebony horns gleaming. “I should have known Victor couldn’t be trusted to get my sister to safety. This way,” he urged, and we both set off at a jog.
Winding cobblestone streets took us past deserted shops. Signs noted they were closed to attend the games. I was willing to bet they all wished they’d stayed home.
We rounded a corner and stopped cold. Dozens of ambling bodies blocked our way. Ragged clothes clung to rotting flesh. Their vacant eyes turned in unison, fixing on us.
“Ghouls,” I whispered.
Golden flashes illuminated the crossroads. The metallic clang of a blade rang out, along with colorful cursing.
“And they have Victor and Runa pinned outside of the gate,” Drazen growled.
An image took shape in my mind. One of the king and queen falling, overtaken by the swarm of ghouls. Soon after, the wendigos would appear to infiltrate the castle. Next, the sacred arbor. Carcerem would fall, same as Pyrrhus.
I firmed my jaw, Thorne’s flame blazing in my chest. Not if I could help it.
I gripped Drazen’s shoulder and turned him to face me. “Save your sister.”
“What?”
“Save your sister and the king.” Magic sparked in my palms. To my knowledge, there was one thing The Dark One desired almost as much as the tree.
“Serafina. Wait,” Drazen barked, but it was already too late.
I stepped into the street and launched a ball of energy at the ghoul closest to me.
The creature let out a growling scream and turned, along with his brethren. In a cascading effect, dozens of snarling faces spun, baring blackened teeth. Their gaping maws oozed noxious drool at the temptation of fresh meat.
“Hey! Remember me?”
“You,” groaned one of the decaying monsters.
“You.” “You.” “You.” The chorus built until the entire mob was chanting it.
“That’s right. You want me? Come and get me.” I backed into a run.
The horde screeched and launched into a sprint—my racing heart with them.
I spun and rocketed down the street. Lumbering feet slapped the cobblestones behind me. Half the swarm peeled off, their slavering jaws now aimed at me instead. Good for the royals. Bad for me. I didn’t expect to claim so many of them.
“What’s happening? Where are they going?” a feminine voice rang out. The queen, I assumed.
“There’s a woman leading them away,” the king responded.
“Does she have a death wish?” Her fading question rang in my ears.
No. No, she didn’t have a death wish. She very much wanted to live.
Fire burned in my thighs, my calves aching. The streets here were a maze of dangers for those like me who didn’t know their way. One dead end, one obstacle, and I was a goner. I needed to get higher. An advantage like Thorne and I had during the attack at the market.
The stench of decaying bodies grew stronger, the click, click, click of gnashing teeth louder. They were almost on top of me.
Finally, I spied a building with a pile of wooden crates beside it. Climb. Climb. Had to climb. I scrambled up the nearest crate, wobbled a moment, then leapt to the taller one. The edge of the roof was still out of reach. I was too short.
I glanced over my shoulder. At the end of the street, a mob of monsters raced my way. Their voices rose to terrorize me. “You!”
“Nope. Not me. Not today.” I locked determined eyes on my target, bunched my muscles and jumped.
My fingers landed hard on the ledge. Almost there!
Course bricks scraped beneath my scrabbling toes.
Muscles burned in my arms. I dragged my body upward, swung out one leg and thankfully caught my heel on the gutter.
“Dearest Hathor. If you let me survive this, I swear I’ll never eat another honey cake for the rest of my days.”
Just as I levered my bulk onto the roof, daggered fingertips raked the length of my leg, and I shrieked, kicking free. Once on top, I clambered back from the edge and looked down.
Dozens of lifeless faces peered up at me, hunger in their pale expressions. At the head of the group, a slack-jawed ghoul skittered onto one of the crates. I huffed a low growl. It was so unfair that they knew how to climb.
I gathered my throbbing leg beneath me. Hot blood trickled into my boot. No time for that now. I had to keep moving.
Careful of my footing, I hustled over the tiles. The roof of the next building wasn’t far, so I didn’t hesitate, leaping the gap. As I landed, my right leg buckled, and I collapsed, crying out.
A furious roar dragged my focus to the sky. In the distance, two winged shadows grappled beneath the light of the twin moons, teeth flashing, talons tearing. Dragonfire exploded in the air, launching my heart into my mouth.
“Thorne,” I whispered, my throat tight. This was no simple battle but a fight to the death. I feared only one brother would survive.
“You!”
I snapped my head toward the building I’d abandoned. The ghouls were relentless. They scrabbled over the roof tiles with clawed fingers and gnashing teeth. Bloody bastards were determined. But so was I.
Gritting against the pain, I collected my aching legs beneath me. As planned, I’d drawn them away from the royals, and more importantly, from the gates that protected the sacred tree. Now, I just needed to lose them.
Less careful, I raced across the rooftops, leaping from one to the next. Below, pattering feet struck the streets. Shadows shifted as the creatures gave chase. Their more agile kin trailed behind me on the roofs, their snarls pressing close.
One building at a time, I gained a bit of ground. Except I couldn’t do this forever. Up ahead, the buildings gave way to a manicured park. Trees, foliage, life. Finally, I might have an advantage.
Before hitting the last roof, I spun and faced my stalkers.
Power whipped up from my center, and I hurled several energy blasts behind me into the sea of the undead.
Stunned, they tumbled and crashed into each other.
While they were distracted, I clambered over the edge of the final building, onto a balcony, then jumped to the ground.
Pain lanced my burning calf, and I pushed through it, forcing one racing foot in front of the other.
As I sprinted for the wooded park—body aching, lungs straining—an image of a similar flight came to mind. A ruffled dress. A hunt. The night I’d first met Alaric. The biggest monster of all.
The moment I breached the trees, cool air filled my senses, and the vegetation whispered to me. This was good. I’d lure them in, trap them here, then double back to the castle—and Thorne.
As I trudged onward, the air thickened. The night buzzed with croaking frogs and the eerie hum of insects. Their calls wove through the relentless chorus of clicks and groans.
Finally, the trees parted.
I stumbled to a halt, staring out at the body of water before me. “It’s a pond.” A fountain trickled at its center.
Limbs cracked, and I spun.
The ghouls broke through the underbrush. Their grotesque forms scrambled toward me. They believed they had me cornered. Except unlike the day I’d met Alaric, tonight I had options beyond dying.
“Nice try, fiends.” Without hesitation, I turned and dove.
The cold water washed over me, thrusting my panic to another level. I was drowning. Drowning! The darkness closed in, dragging me under. I pumped my arms and kicked my feet. Arms. Legs. Move!
I fought against the crushing grip of the depths, kicked hard, clawed upward until—air!
“Bless you, Thorne.”
With desperate strokes, I plowed through the water, headed for the opposite side. Far from the monsters who chased me. Their barks of fury and impotent splashes flooded me with relief. Apparently, the dead didn’t swim.
Mud sucked at my feet as I hauled myself up the bank and collapsed. I coughed, spitting out a mouthful of foul-tasting water, then dared a glance back.
Even while their brethren thrashed, dozens of ghouls continued to march into the water. Deeper, they scrabbled, climbing on top of each other. Their heads bobbed below the surface, then disappeared. The brainless idiots were drowning themselves.
“Always swim with a buddy,” I wheezed, giddy with relief.
My lips curled into an exhausted smile. I did it. Me. I saved the king and queen while eliminating dozens of monsters from The Dark One’s army. And I hadn’t died. For once, I’d won. Useless Serafina. The girl who excelled at cleaning bedpans.
I peered up at the sky and splayed my arms. “You hear me, world? I did it!”
“You.”
The nasally growl cut through the night, and I froze, only daring to move my eyes. My breath hitched. Every muscle locked as dread wrapped around my spine. No. No. No! Not now!
The ghouls’ snarls fell away, leaving only the frantic thud of my heartbeat in my ears.
Slowly, I turned.
Seated on a demonic horse with glowing red eyes was a figure even more terrifying than all The Dark One’s monsters combined.
Unlike the emaciated horde, he was fully fleshed, ropy muscle stark beneath his waxy gray skin.
Ragged clumps of hair stuck to his scalp, a tarnished crown on his head.
Blackened armor clung to his monstrous frame, bearing the crest of some long-forgotten kingdom.
I’d heard whispers of such things. Fallen kings, their souls enslaved, resurrected to lead The Dark One’s armies. I hadn’t believed them until now.
This man, this thing, radiated power. Dark and oily, it slithered over my skin, dragging me down. The feeling like death had sunk its claws into me. There would be no defeating this monster.
“He’s waiting for you.” The words crackled from his throat. They sliced into me, sharp and cold, until my knees wanted to give out.
There was no need to explain. I knew exactly who had summoned me.
I stumbled back into the shallow water. Better to take my chances with the ghouls.
The monster studied my retreat with a hollow gaze void of humanity. He raised one gauntleted hand. Icy power sparked in his palm—then struck.
A bolt of freezing energy slammed into my chest.
Agony exploded through every nerve, locking me in place. My vision burned white, and my body crumbled.
The last thing I heard before the darkness took me…
The agonized roar of a dragon.