There was no sign of Mettius now. Nor Thorne. Only scattered prints in the sand.
“I need to go after him,” Augustus said.
“We,” she emphasized. “Wego after him.”
He’d have to knock her unconscious if he thought about leaving her behind.
Augustus swept a thumb across her cheek and let loose a heavy breath. “We.”
Weapons sheathed, they ran, kicking up sand with the sounds of battle to their backs. Little Gus was a storm inside her skull—claws, fury, fire. She’d never known him to be this furious. Or deadly.
Overhead, the Vorash shrieked and reeled away from an incinerating blast.
Little Gus spun around for another attack, claws going for the Vorash’s throat. They locked midair.
The Vorash slammed him down, a crashing blow that sent Gus spiraling toward the ocean. He righted himself, wings flapping wildly, pulling himself back into the sky.
Augustus took Selene’s hand as they reached the dune and sprinted up the side, the sand even less forgiving on the incline.
Halfway up the dune, pain ripped through her, hot and electric.Not her own. It took her to her knees.
Augustus fell beside her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, she searched the sky for the source. The Vorash dragged Gus toward the clouds, then barreled down again, wings tucked.
Selene scrambled to her feet, holding tight to Augustus’s arm. Together,they climbed the dune and watched in horror as the creatures disappeared over the dune’s edge and into the village behind it.
“Gus!” she screamed, driving her steps harder, her legs one solid burn.
All at once, her bond with the dronsian erupted, pain slashing through her like a blade. A scream tore through her mind, too raw to be her own. Blood. Bone. Fire. And then nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Silence.
Chapter
Forty-Eight
Kai sprinted after Atsadi and Fala, instinct alone guiding her. She already knew this would be the memory to haunt her—the one she’d relive forever.
Fala clawed at the ground until the last moment. Atsadi slid across wet stone, into the geyser’s full force.
She was going to lose them both, and there was nothing she could do.
It all happened so fast.
Fala disappeared over the side, and on that deadly ledge, Atsadi jerked to a halt, one arm and leg over the side.
Kai prayed to every god who cared to listen.
He had one boot pressed hard into the crumbling ground, one strong arm outstretched with fingers dug deep into the wet earth, and his face turned away from the geyser that hit his body.
Then, Fala sent up a plea from somewhere below, a mere whisper compared to the rushing water. “Don’t let me go.”
“Never,” Atsadi said.
The water gushed, then, and pushed him farther toward the edge.
