He lifted a brow. “You used to say that yourself.”
“He did?” Attes questioned.
“Yes.” Kieran turned his head and looked forward. “As hard as that may be to believe now.”
I smirked.
“Incoming!” A shout came from farther down the Rise, one belonging to Naill.
My gaze briefly flickered down the wall, searching for the Elemental I hadn’t seen since…
Sincebefore.
The mist churned and throbbed, rolling across the clearing as the shrieks and gnashing teeth grew into a disturbing symphony of fucked-up-ness.
“Godsdamnit,” Kieran muttered before turning sharply. “Light the trench!”
A volley of flaming arrows shot into the air, leaving a trail of embers in their wake. They arced downward, striking the wooden spikes sharpened into points and soaked in oil. Flames erupted, rapidly spreading along the trench just as the Craven burst from the mist, their milky-white skin and hairless skulls gleaming under the glare of the moon.
“Fates,” Attes muttered, disgust clinging to the single word as the first of the Craven ran straight into the fire.
It flung itself around, screaming.
“You’ve never seen this?” Kieran asked him.
The Primal god shook his head.
“Driven by hunger, they lack all common sense…” I trailed off as I watched one stumble over another and fall into the sunken lane of flames. “And, apparently, agility.”
I could feel Attes’s stare land on me.
The scent of burning, rotting flesh filled the air as I eyed the still-thick mist that now stretched across the horizon.
Kieran’s attention was where mine was. So were his thoughts. “There have to be hundreds.”
“The fire won’t stop them,” I noted.
A heartbeat later, my words were proven correct. The bodies of the fallen Craven were snuffing out the flames, allowing gaps to form in the line. A handful of Craven made it through, flames clinging to their tattered clothing. They wouldn’t be a problem. Not with their dried-out skin. But the gaps widened, and more Craven emerged, untouched by the fire.
“Fire!” Kieran ordered.
Atlantian soldiers, armed with crossbows, moved in front of the mortal guards. Grips steady on the handles, they aimed, bolts already nocked. They fired, releasing and restringing far quicker than one could with a regular bow. The volley of arrows reached the Craven, cutting them down as the bloodstone tore through flesh and bone.
It didn’t matter how fast they were, though. As rotted as the Craven’s minds were, and even with their lack of agility, they were fucking fast. A wave reached the foot of the Rise within seconds.
Idleness was stretching my skin taut.
“You were right, Kieran.”
His head snapped toward me, a crease forming between his brows. “Part of me doesn’t want to ruin the moment of you actually saying I’m right by asking what I was right about.”
“You were right when you said I used to believe that just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” Lifting my hands from the Rise, I reached back and grabbed the hood. “But that was before.”
“Fuck.” Kieran spun toward me. “Don’t do it.”
“Do what?” I pulled the hood into place.
“Whatever crazy shit you’re about to pull,” he seethed. “We can hold them off.”
