“Nope. Not me. Not today.” I locked determined eyes on my target, bunched my muscles and jumped. My fingers landed hard on the ledge. Almost there! Course bricks scraped beneath my scrabbling toes. Muscles burned in my arms. I dragged my body upward, swung out one leg and thankfully caught my heel on the gutter.
“Dearest Hathor. If you let me survive this, I swear I’ll never eat another honey cake for the rest of my days.”
Just as I levered my bulk onto the roof, daggered fingertips raked the length of my leg, and I shrieked, kicking free. Once on top, I clambered back from the edge and looked down.
Dozens of lifeless faces peered up at me, hunger in their pale expressions. At the head of the group, a slack-jawed ghoul skittered onto one of the crates. I huffed a low growl. It was so unfair that they knew how to climb.
I gathered my throbbing leg beneath me. Hot blood trickled into my boot. No time for that now. I had to keep moving.
Careful of my footing, I hustled over the tiles. The roof of the next building wasn’t far, so I didn’t hesitate, leaping the gap. As I landed, my right leg buckled, and I collapsed, crying out.
A furious roar dragged my focus to the sky. In the distance,two winged shadows grappled beneath the light of the twin moons, teeth flashing, talons tearing. Dragonfire exploded in the air, launching my heart into my mouth.
“Thorne,” I whispered, my throat tight. This was no simple battle but a fight to the death. I feared only one brother would survive.
“You!”
I snapped my head toward the building I’d abandoned. The ghouls were relentless. They scrabbled over the roof tiles with clawed fingers and gnashing teeth. Bloody bastards were determined. But so was I.
Gritting against the pain, I collected my aching legs beneath me. As planned, I’d drawn them away from the royals, and more importantly, from the gates that protected the sacred tree. Now, I just needed to lose them.
Less careful, I raced across the rooftops, leaping from one to the next. Below, pattering feet struck the streets. Shadows shifted as the creatures gave chase. Their more agile kin trailed behind me on the roofs, their snarls pressing close.
One building at a time, I gained a bit of ground. Except I couldn’t do this forever. Up ahead, the buildings gave way to a manicured park. Trees, foliage, life. Finally, I might have an advantage.
Before hitting the last roof, I spun and faced my stalkers. Power whipped up from my center, and I hurled several energy blasts behind me into the sea of the undead. Stunned, they tumbled and crashed into each other. While they were distracted, I clambered over the edge of the final building, onto a balcony, then jumped to the ground. Pain lanced my burning calf, and I pushed through it, forcing one racing foot in front of the other.
As I sprinted for the wooded park—body aching, lungs straining—an image of a similar flight came to mind. A ruffled dress. A hunt. The night I’d first met Alaric. The biggest monster of all.
The moment I breached the trees, cool air filled my senses, and the vegetation whispered to me. This was good. I’d lure them in, trap them here, then double back to the castle—and Thorne.
As I trudged onward, the air thickened. The night buzzed with croaking frogs and the eerie hum of insects. Their calls wove through the relentless chorus of clicks and groans.
Finally, the trees parted.
I stumbled to a halt, staring out at the body of water before me. “It’s a pond.” A fountain trickled at its center.
Limbs cracked, and I spun.
The ghouls broke through the underbrush. Their grotesque forms scrambled toward me. They believed they had me cornered. Except unlike the day I’d met Alaric, tonight I had options beyond dying.
“Nice try, fiends.” Without hesitation, I turned and dove.
The cold water washed over me, thrusting my panic to another level. I was drowning. Drowning! The darkness closed in, dragging me under. I pumped my arms and kicked my feet. Arms. Legs. Move!
I fought against the crushing grip of the depths, kicked hard, clawed upward until—air!
“Bless you, Thorne.”
With desperate strokes, I plowed through the water, headed for the opposite side. Far from the monsters who chased me. Their barks of fury and impotent splashes flooded me with relief. Apparently, the dead didn’t swim.
Mud sucked at my feet as I hauled myself up the bank and collapsed. I coughed, spitting out a mouthful of foul-tasting water, then dared a glance back.
Even while their brethren thrashed, dozens of ghouls continued to march into the water. Deeper, they scrabbled, climbing on top of each other. Their heads bobbed below thesurface, then disappeared. The brainless idiots were drowning themselves.
“Always swim with a buddy,” I wheezed, giddy with relief.
My lips curled into an exhausted smile. I did it. Me. I saved the king and queen while eliminating dozens of monsters from The Dark One’s army. And I hadn’t died. For once, I’d won. Useless Serafina. The girl who excelled at cleaning bedpans.
