As their bullets tear holes through the creature’s body that send even more dark smoke into the air, Raze and Hail appear behind us.
“What fresh hell is this?” the winter fae mutters.
“I don’t know.” Peri pushes forward with an air of determination. “But we need to get closer. See if we can settlethings down, keep the creatures from barging out before they get into range of those guns.”
An image passes through my head of a whole horde of the creatures charging toward us. My legs lock for a few seconds before I can force them to follow her.
We rush past the nearest factory building and slow as we come up on the edge of the deluge. Here, I can’t make out the darker current whirling into it from above, but the haze trembles with minor eddies.
More creatures are prowling back and forth on the streets within. One’s quills rattle with its shudder, while another makes a high-pitched keening sound that quavers through my nerves.
A scaled form looms high on two legs, its other stubby, clawed appendages grasping at the air. My mind flashes back to the coiled form of the leviathan as he glowered down at my three-year-old self with serrated teeth flashing.
My breath hitches. A flood of cold sweeps through me alongside the stuttering of my heart.
Peri’s hand squeezes around mine. The warmth of her touch alongside the concerned affection coursing from her into me brings me back to earth, back to the present.
She peers at me, worry shining in her bright blue eyes. “Where did you go?”
Before I can find the words to tell her, more voices ring out from farther along the murky area. Voices speaking in sounds that belong to no human language but that I recognize down to my soul.
Sorcerers. And not just Lilah, if she’s even among them—there must be several chanting together.
My companions tense up. They’ve all been held in the grips of sorcery before for cruel ends.
“You try to help things here,” I blurt out. “I’ll go see what’s happening.”
I lope off around a shed and along a fence. A cluster of people comes into view beyond the next factory, maybe ten of them facing the shadowy haze and calling out their sorcerous syllables.
At least a few hunters lurk beyond them, whips and nets at the ready—I suppose in case the sorcery doesn’t work. Or maybe to subdue the creatures if the sorcerers decide to draw them out rather than urging them back in?
The meaning of the magical chanting seeps into my awareness. They’re telling the shadowkind to stay away from humans—and to lash out at each other.
My throat constricts. Are they hoping they can get the beasts to destroy each other?
I guess that is one way of dealing with the threat, even if the idea sends a lurch of nausea through my gut.
Whatever their plan, it doesn’t appear to be working all that well, even with their numbers. More creatures have swarmed into the streets here too, but they’re prowling toward us without any sign of hostility toward each other.
The sorcerers’ faces are going taut with frustration. One of them breaks off the chant with a curse under his breath. “Why aren’t they fucking listening?”
I clear my throat, and more of the voices falter. Sorcerers and hunters alike jerk their gazes toward me.
I stride over, willing down the apprehension pricking at my skin. “Sorcery doesn’t take hold on the creatures from these warped rifts, at least not very well.”
The man who complained scowls at me. “You would know, wouldn’t you? You’re one of us, but you’ve been slumming it with the monsters as if they’re yourfriends. I saw you on the news.”
The good news is Peri’s efforts are obviously making the rounds on screens everywhere. The bad news is apparently those efforts also drew these pricks here.
I size the group up as they do me. It isn’t surprising, really, that sorcerers would show up to offer their “services” in controlling the shadowkind just like the hunters did. They’d want the ego boost of being able to put their power on full display.
Would they ever reveal to the rest of humanity how they developed those powers? The stories Quinn told me float up through my head: the training center she visited where the acolytes slaughtered shadowkind creatures to drink in their essence.
It’s only by mixing a little of what shadowkind are made of into our own bodies that we can gain power over them. The talent can be passed on genetically, but mine wasn’t all that strong until my shadowkind guardians voluntarily donated bits of their essence to support my training.
Somehow, based on the sneers and glares showing on the faces before me, I don’t think asking permission occurred to anyone in this bunch.
How many shadowkind have they killed to absorb the smoky haze of their lives? How many more have they enslaved for God knows what purposes?
