I was trapped. The rockface of the mountain loomed behind me and the decaying warriors in front.
Skeletal fingers grabbed my upper arm from the side, squeezing the already marred skin from the woods. A half-melted face loomed above me and maggots crawled through the liquified skin that clung to his skeletal form. I lashed out, struggling against his grip.
“No!” I screamed. Everywhere I pushed against him, my hand sank into soft, wet flesh with a cold squelch. Hands wrapped around my ankle, pulling my weight out from underneath me. A cry of terror left my lips. Dirt scraped against my body as they dragged me by my wrist, pain blooming in my shoulder from the weight of my own body struggling against the creatures’ relentless pulling.
I screamed as my joint popped from its socket.
“Fight,”the Commander’s roar reverberated through my mind with a violent jolt,
and something deep inside me answered.
Twenty-Six
Poison
Ifelt a tugging in my chest, almost like a tether being drawn taut.
“Fucking fight!”the Commander roared, and I couldn’t tell if I had heard it in my head.
Yes. I had to fight.I won’t let these vile creatures drag me away without a fight. The sharp pain radiating into my shoulder was blinding. I pulled against the skeletal grip of the creature, screaming at the tearing sensation through my shoulder. I begged for my power to surface but nothing came. I couldn’t control it.
I rolled, my dislocated shoulder turning at an unnatural angle, throwing the dead warrior off balance. It crashed to the side with my weight. Dragging my useless arm, I pulled myself on top of the decaying creature.
I lunged for the bone sword, fingers grazing its bloodstained hilt, only for skeletal hands to seize me, claws raking down my arms, and splitting skin with jagged bone. Fire lanced through me. Decaying fingers sank deeper, peeling flesh from bone. A raw cry tore from my throat. Beneath me, the corpsemade a sickening gurgled laugh as we struggled for the weapon. It wrenched the sword from my grasp, bringing the hilt down on my head. Pain exploded across my temple, sharp and dizzying. I crumpled to the ground, clutching my head as the world tilted sideways, the trees spinning in and out of focus.
Darkness hit them first.
The Commander of Death tore from the shadows, eyes like starless pits, black veins spidering from their edges. A growl rolled out of his chest, more animal than male. An obsidian broadsword gleamed in his grip, black flames licking the blade. Steel met bone with a shriek. Bones snapped and rot peeled like wet parchment. Ash and rot burst into the air, the thing collapsing in a heap of filth. The Commander spun, disappearing into shadow and reappearing in front of another decaying monster. Their swords clashed, bone against steel. His shadows swarmed, tearing through its glowing eyes and pouring into its mouth. It slowed the creature down momentarily, enough for the Commander to swing his sword. Its head landed with a wet thump on the ground. He moved with lethal grace, cutting down the monsters. Hope flickered through my chest like a dying candle, briefly, before sputtering out as skeletal claws gripped my hair and pulled so hard, I thought my scalp would peel off. I screamed.
The Commander’s lethal gaze snapped to me and he growled, baring his canines. My scalp burned, body dragging against the rough ground by nothing but my hair. I thrashed, kicking and reaching for the dead hands that gripped my hair. I couldn’t reach.
The Commander ripped into the air in front of me, bursting from the darkness. His blade sunk into the creature’s flesh with a sickening crunch. Dark bluegore splattered me as the creature slumped, and a whimper of relief left me as it let go of my hair.
The Commander crouched in front of me. “You are okay,” he rumbled, more to himself then me.
Before I could yell at him, his eyes flared. He began to spin but, it was too late. The tip of a white, jagged sword protruded through his bare abdomen. He dropped to his knees, shadows angrily lashing out around him.
“Run,” he whispered. “Get Cerilla.” Dark veins spread from the sword against his skin.Poison.
The dead warrior grinned, half its face sloughing from exposed skull, as it planted a foot on the Commander’s back. It tore the sword free with a nauseating, tearing squelch. The rest of the dead army swarmed towards us.
I gritted my teeth, digging past the pain and fear to the small thrumming of power within me. I pulled the power from my very soul. It was depleted, weak. But I took from it anyway.
My head snapped back as the sound tore from my throat, eerie and layered, an unearthly harmony of rage, grief, and something far more ancient than me. It wasn’t just a scream. It was asummoning.
The air shivered. The dead paused, just for a heartbeat. And in the next, they exploded. Rupturing like overripe fruit beneath pressure, bones cracking outward as blue ichor sprayed in arcs through the dead trees. Skulls shattered. Ribs split. Spines twisted backward as if the scream physically repelled them. Ash spewed from their mouths. Eyes exploded in sockets. Until all that was left were heaps of bone and rot collapsing.
The forest went still. Ash drifted down around me like snow, but all I could taste was blood and the echo of my own voice. The Commander’s large form was slumped andunconscious. I pushed against him, rolling him onto his back despite exhaustion trying to drag me into unconsciousness.
“Commander?” My voice shook as I put my hand against his neck, checking for a heartbeat. A sigh of relief left my lips when I found it, though it was too fast and thready.
I slammed my hands over his wound, trying to hold him together—but the blood that soaked my fingers wasn’t red. It was a deep, dark blue.
I froze, then dragged my hands back, staring at them as if they no longer belonged to me.
Why the hell does he bleed blue? Did all Fae bleed this way?No, I had seen Solas bleed and his blood had been red.
I ripped my shirt off and pressed it against his bleeding wound.
