For a man who gave every evidence of being thoroughly mad, Griffin sounded incredibly coherent, echoing things Shea had thought over the years. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to bathe the Broken Lands in conquest, but she had never understood why the pathfinders didn’t share their knowledge with the rest of the world.
They had an incredible potential to do good, but if they remained as they were, hiding, pretending not to see as the world deteriorated around them, that good would never come to fruition.
Griffin’s face softened and suddenly he was the boy she remembered, his eyes alight with passion, his dreams to change the world so big and bold they were impossible right from the start.
“Join me,” he said. “The father can be kind.”
“Yes. Join us, daughter,” a voice snaked from the darkness. “Together, we will rule.”
Shea edged another step closer, ignoring the fear that skated down her spine. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, as if the very darkness spawned it. Yet there was no evidence of its form.
Griffin’s face tightened, and he looked briefly angry before his face smoothed into placid lines.
“Your talents are like no other’s. They would be a boon to our cause,” the darkness said. Its voice whispered temptation, promising riches beyond her conception.
Did they really think she would be so easily swayed? Maybe once, back when she’d first been forced from her home. She’d been so angry then. Life had seemed unfair, her thoughts turning to self-pity.
Now, however, she saw where she’d gone wrong. She knew love, real love, the kind you would sacrifice anything for. She had friends and a people she’d do everything in her power to protect.
Pretty words and false ideals wouldn’t turn her attention so easily.
Again, Shea thought she saw a flash of irritation on Griffin’s face. It gave her an idea.
“Is that what you want?” she asked Griffin. “It sounds like once I’ve joined you, he’ll have no more need of you.”
She gave him an arrogant smile, not letting him see the fear threatening to buckle her legs or the way her hands shook. “Is that really the type of being you serve? One who would throw you away as soon as something better comes along?”
“You’re not better than me,” Griffin snapped, his voice raised.
Shea felt the dark’s interest, its focus shifting to Griffin. It didn’t seem bothered by Griffin’s anger, in fact it seemed to rejoice in it.
“Are you sure?” Shea asked. “I think I’ve already proven I am.”
Griffin took several steps toward her, his gestures violent and full of fury. “I know what you’re doing. You think to take my place. Not this time. You can act as the sacrifice that raises my master from the dead. Your pain and suffering will fuel his return.”
The dark writhed behind Griffin, the shadows several shades darker, their movements ecstatic.
Griffin was close enough. She wouldn’t get another chance.
His eyes went over her shoulder. “Kill her. Slowly.”
Shea ignored the thump of fear, ducking and rolling as a pair of claws sliced the air where she’d just been standing.
She grabbed the green spiral Griffin had left discarded next to the red back, ignoring the bright line of fire where it cut into her hands. She rolled up to stand in the grass, blood dotting her clothes where the glass had pierced her skin.
Behind Griffin the dark shape had grown larger, the grotesque, elongated shape of a man beginning to emerge. It wasn’t human, or if it was, it was a twisted, perverted version.
Griffin swung at her. She ducked, coming up and using the spiral like a dagger, burying its length in his stomach.
He gave a choked gasp, blanching as he looked down in surprise. Shea didn’t let herself pause, didn’t let herself think, yanking her glass dagger out and completing the move Trenton had drilled into her. She buried the make-shift dagger in his throat, jerking it free as blood sprayed. She’d hit his carotid artery.
His hand came up to clutch his neck, surprise and hurt on his face.
Shea didn’t have time to savor the victory or feel guilt over what she’d done. Ajari tackled her from behind. She landed on her back in the grass, its sharp blades claiming more of her blood.
Claws raked along her side. She managed to raise one foot, planting it on his torso and shoving him back.
She rolled, making a desperate grab for Griffin’s neck. Her fingers had just touched the necklace when Ajari leapt at her, his claws outstretched.
