Ten #2
I turned Ratuk, difficult to do in the narrow, tight alley, only to spot a trio of statues coming down the street behind Rhyne.
Several more spilled into the road behind them, making my blood run cold. “We can’t,” I called back to Raithe. “We’re blocked
in.”
A statue staggered out of a doorway and lunged at Ratuk. The beetle swung his head, knocking it aside, but he couldn’t maneuver
well in the cramped alley. The statue lurched back to its feet and came at us again, and with nowhere else to go, we fled
into the square.
Pale figures spilled into the open space, coming from everywhere, it seemed. They crowded forward, a swarm of grinding stone
and grasping hands, reaching out for us. Rhyne and Ratuk smashed into the statues with their horns, knocking them back, but
there were always more staggering toward us. In moments, we would be overrun.
“Well,” Halek said, gazing down at the death coming at us from all sides.
“This is not what I imagined my fate to be. I can’t decide if I’d rather be eaten by giant insects or pummeled to death by living statues, but I guess it doesn’t matter.
” He reached into his jacket and withdrew a short, straight blade, giving me a defiant grin.
“If you manage to survive and tell this story, Sparrow, be sure to include how devastatingly brave I was, okay?”
“Kysa.” Before I could reply, Raithe yanked his snarling sand dragon away from the horde to face us. In the fading light,
his expression chilled me. “Take Sparrow,” he told the insect rider, pointing at me with his blade. “Take her, and fly out
of here with Rhyne. Head east across the Shifting Dunes until you reach the World Scar. Nothing else matters but getting the
Fateless to the loom. Protect her, as I would have done. Fatechaser . . .” His gaze went to Halek. “Your story isn’t ending
here. Go with them.”
Halek frowned. “And what will you be doing while the rest of us run away, kahjai?”
Raithe gave a humorless smile. “What do you think?”
Horror filled me. “We’re not leaving you, Raithe!” I told him, as the scrapes and shuffles of the horde drew closer. “We’re
not leaving anyone behind.” Because if I left, I would have to. Ratuk couldn’t fly. Raithe, the sand dragon, and Ratuk would have to stay behind
with the horde, where they would be crushed or torn apart by unfeeling, unstoppable killers.
The horror spread, turning to nausea. Was this it? Was this Fate catching up to us? To Raithe? If I had left him behind in
Irrikah . . .
“Sparrow.” Raithe looked at me, and the look in his eyes was both gentle and firm.
“You have to survive,” he said softly. “The Fateless has to get to the loom—you’re the only one who can touch it and claim the goddess’s power to stand against the Deathless King.
” He cut me off as I opened my mouth to protest. “My life is not important—my only duty is to make sure your mission is successful. I am truly sorry for Ratuk, and we will fight as hard as we can before we fall, but you must get to the World Scar. Everything depends on you finding the piece of the loom.”
No, I decided. Not tonight. Fate would not find us, any of us, tonight. I would not allow it.
“I will,” I told him fiercely. The statues were nearly upon us now, a silent, horrifying wave. From atop Ratuk’s back, I looked
over the sea of stone faces and saw the roads and alleyways around the square were finally clear. “I will get to the loom,
Raithe,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “But I will get there with the rest of you. I’m not leaving anyone behind. Ratuk . . .”
I thumped the beetle’s back three times, and Ratuk snorted, throwing up his head. I had just told the beetle to fight for
all he was worth, and not to stop unless everything was dead or he was. “Charge!”
The rock beetle let out a war bellow and surged forward.
His horn swept down as we hit the first ranks of statues, plowing into them and knocking them aside.
Effigies grabbed at us, swinging stone limbs with clawed stone fingers.
Blows slammed into Ratuk and vibrated up his shell, but the rock beetle never slowed down.
He shoved forward, crashing into statues and knocking them aside, letting out a bellow that made my blood sing.
He seemed unstoppable, a juggernaut that crushed the enemies before him, turning statues into nothing but mounds of broken stone and dust.
“Sparrow!”
Kysa’s voice echoed over the square. I looked behind us to see Rhyne swinging his head as he was surrounded by statues, flinging
them back. The statues swarmed forward, cutting off his path to us, and Rhyne fell farther back. “There are too many!” the
insect rider called. “We have to go another way!” She swept her spear at the tops of the buildings, where a sickly crescent
moon was rising over the trees. “We’ll meet outside of town. If there are too many statues, we’ll keep going until we reach
the border of the Dead Lands. Fate be with you both!”
Rhyne turned, sweeping his horn back and forth to clear himself a path as the statues swarmed him. My heart caught in my throat,
watching stony hands and fingers tear at the rock beetle. For a terrifying heartbeat, it seemed like they would pull him down.
But then Rhyne surged forward, flinging a pair of statues backward and crushing more underfoot as he charged toward the opposite
side of the square. I sent a prayer to Maederyss that the insect rider and the Fatechaser would find their way through the
chaos and come out safely on the other side, before turning back to Ratuk and the swarm in front of us.