Chapter 40 Just like in old times
Emrys
Just like in old times
Itore through the swarm in the sky. Quickly and mercilessly. But I was distracted, my thoughts returning to Daphne. Was she safe? What if this was a diversion?
I landed soundlessly on the deck of the fishing barge. The black portholes stared back at me like empty, dead eyes. No sound came from the hold, but I sensed their presence. Their twisted magic tugged at the fabric of this world like someone trying to play a harp with a bone saw.
“I know you’re here,” I whispered in the old tongue. The words crept into the cracks of the wood, curling into every corner of the vessel. “You’re not allowed to board the ship. Leave now, and you might keep your pathetic excuse of an existence.”
More came from above—typical. I turned in time to slice one in half. It hit the deck with a wet thud, its black intestines uncoiling across the boards like rope. The rest followed in a frenzy, and I let them.
The deck grew slick with their blood, the air thick with rot and sulfur.
I sank into the rhythm of the fight, every motion clean and precise.
Here, in the heart of chaos, I found clarity.
The battle became meditation. Every swing was calculated, every parry a breath.
How many had the Renegade sent this time?
While evading claws and conjuring blades of shadow, I kept glancing toward the steamer. Its upper deck looked undisturbed. I prayed she’d reached the captain in time. My duel with a hulking Hollowborn with a shaved skull took us into the air.
He was wielding a spiked whip of bones, and I was evading the hissing lashes by an inch.
That’s when I sensed it. A shift in the air. A disturbance, deep and cold.
Something ancient near the bridge.
The undyne.
She was here.
Her presence washed over the deck like a tidal wave.
No.
Not again.
I promised to protect her. Flashes of burning houses flooded my mind. Screams and blood staining my fingers—human, mortal blood—even redder than Branwyn’s hair.
I’d rather die than go through this again.
To the seven hells with these demons!
I turned in a blur, launching toward her—but—
Agonizing pain tore through my throat. The whip coiled around it like a noose, yanking me back mid-flight. It was made of vertebrae—how fitting! I clawed at it, wings thrashing until my joints screamed. The Hollowborn pulled harder. The whip dug deep into my flesh; blood gushed down my collar.
But far worse than the pain—
I couldn’t sense her anymore. Only six Twisted Ones wandered the deck, dazed, sniffing the air like bloodhounds.
The undyne was gone.
If Clio had her, I’d enter whatever abyssal pit she called home and tear her limb by limb with my own hands.
With a snarl, I grabbed the whip and pulled hard, yanking the Hollowborn forward.
He slammed into the mast and tumbled overboard.
I dropped to the deck of the steamer and sliced through the remaining Twisted Ones like smoke.
My breath came ragged. Black petals bloomed before my vision.
I cursed. A second wave of Hollowborn was coming.
“Daphne?” I cried, my voice breaking in my torn throat.
Rage hollowed me. I let it in. I wanted to be done with whatever the Renegade threw at me so I could search for her.
If she was still alive—
Just like that, I let myself slip into that place I avoided like the plague. The place that left dead legions and burning cities in my wake.
Whatever the Renegade had planned, I’d burn through it to find her.
A familiar glow. Like the sun filtering through ancient trees.
A voice cut through the blood-haze.
“Emrys!”
Then a touch. Familiar. Strong like the roots digging deep into the soil like plants breaking the stone. “Emrys!” he called again. Anchored me back. I howled like a wounded animal.
I didn’t want to go back to a place without her.
“She’s safe, Emrys! Your companion is safe!” The world clicked back into place and regained its contour. Edges. Color. Pain. Blood.
I was standing in carnage. Severed limbs and steaming bowels, blood puddles on the floorboards. “Camille took her to Cairo.”
My legs gave in, and I collapsed. It felt like awakening from a dream. A horrible dream.
I turned my head. “Orren?”
He grinned, his beard wild, his eyes sharp. “Still brooding and half-dead, I see.”
“How… are you here?”
“That little traitor Nibble found us. We left Brazil immediately. Camille and your human friend are at the Minaret. Come on. You’re not dying today.” He extended his hand and pulled me up.
I barked a broken laugh and pulled him into a bruising hug. “Still bathing in rivers, I can smell it on you. At least you’ve swapped the furs for a suit.”
He stepped back and gave me a once-over. “You look worse than last time.”
I raked trembling fingers through my hair. “We need to clean this up. Pile the bodies on the barge. Sink it before dawn.”
“Now that’s the Emrys I remember,” Orren laughed, grabbing a corpse in each hand. “Let’s drag this lot to their second, more permanent death.”
I hoisted a Hollowborn onto my shoulder. “Just like old times.”
“You’ve always had a flair for messes.”
“And you always had the shovel.”
We worked in silence, the sickening thud of bodies dropping onto the barge interrupted only by the occasional grunt or curse. “We’re done.” I exhaled, trying to contain the tremble in my chest. The wound on my neck was already closing. “Let’s take the Dusk Roads.”
“You’ve got stories to tell, old friend. How long has it been?”
“Does it matter?” I kicked the last Hollowborn into the water. “It’s quite a way to reunite. Moving bodies again.”
He grinned. “Just like the good old times.”
“Just like the old times,” I agreed. “I’ll need your help to travel.”
He nodded, and we took to the sky.