I turned my horse toward the Stronghold and kicked her into a gallop. Passing through the shield was like a warm caress. Once out the other side, the horse took off as if she had vampire speed.
The gallop up the road was enlightening. I had only been vaguely aware when we raced away in my mostly-dead state.
The Road of Light, leading through the Arch of Life, was nothing of the sort. The fanciful names were something that Savion had dreamed up in his madness.
The road was lined with bones.
Thousands and thousands of long bones from the vampire dead.
Femur, tibia, fibula, humerus, ulna, radius, stacked and held in place with rocks and plaster. Finger bones and toe bones filled in some holes. They were decorated with pelvis and spine.
It was utterly perverse until we got to the columns and the Arch of Life. Composed entirely of ribs and skulls, and held together with sinew, I wanted nothing more than to vomit. This didn’t need to exist. No one needed to know their death.
I wove a little more magic through the bones and sinew and grabbed hold.
I pulled.
The entire arch collapsed, but instead of falling and blocking the road, it all just disappeared as it fell.
The three men behind me exchanged looks, and Aiko chuckled.
“I get the feeling she likes her new strength.”
Twisting in the saddle, I grinned back at them, and then rode on.
At the door were dozens more bodies, piled and rotting. Older at the bottom, newest—a lot of newest—at the top.
The smell was horrendous.
Rilen and Roran were trying not to gag.
I was right there with them.
No wonder those front doors had always been shut.
“How do we get in?” Roran managed to gasp between gags.
Aiko shook his head. “Savion will not open the doors.”
“Then I will.” I smiled while, at the same time, I grabbed the magic with my power and threw a wedge between the closed doors. A hard yank and the doors not only opened but actually ripped off the top hinges.
Oops.
Rilen smirked as we all kicked our horses into motion. Riding through the doors, we pranced to a halt just inside.
There were a dozen bodies over the fountain, some freshly dripping, some gray and drained. The heads were all lined up in front.
Billan was still there, rotting. Another of the guards who had helped me as well.
Sick, sick bastard.
“Welcome back, Mistress Breaker.”
My eyes shot to the balcony.
Savion stood there looking regal, angry and insane. He tipped his head and grinned the grin of a madman.
“Where is Dorian?” I demanded.
