I grab rocks from the drive and start hurtling them at the beast with my good arm, screaming at it until my voice is hoarse. Suddenly it doesn’t even matter that the pebbles will do nothing against the magnitude of those claws. I’ve never been one to play dead, to go pliant and wait for whatever happens next. If this thing is going to gore me from throat to belly, I’m going to go out the same way I live—pissing it off.
Another snarl, this one so loud, I swear it vibrates my actual bones. The beast lunges, and this time, I’m ready. White hot bursts flare behind my eyes as my wounded shoulder collides with the ground, but I manage to hold tight to the small, sharp rock in my hand. I let the tiger lower its head toward my throat, and then, with a howl of rage, I drive the rock into one of its shining crimson eyes.
More blood peppers my face, blurring my vision as the creature screams in pain. It’s pinned me to the ground with one giant paw, and I writhe desperately against its hold, searching for another rock—for anything I can use to fend it off.
I let out a wild peal of laughter as its skeletal wings thrash above me, blocking out the night sky—blocking out everything but the pain burning through me.
The world around me narrows and warps, as the beast all but disappears beneath a rush of memory.
Only a bit more, Willa. You’re strong enough for that, aren’t you?
Are you so selfish that you wouldn’t endure a bit of pain to save your sister?
To save us all?
I scream in rage, ripping myself out of the past as the beast’s roaring face comes hurtling back into view. My momentary distraction has cost me, and it’s all I can do to squeeze my eyes shut and wait for those razor-sharp teeth to begin tearing at the flesh of my throat.
Panic squeezes my lungs, constricts my ribs, freezes my joints.No, no, no…
Abruptly, the roaring ceases, as if someone has cut the cord to a speaker.
And then the breath is knocked out of me for a second time as the huge mass of the tiger collapses on top of me. When I dare to open my eyes, it’s to find the night has gone even darker than before. It takes me another agonizing moment to understand—it isn’t darkness, nor even the wings of the beast.
It’s death.
The Carrion King’s ribbons slowly retreat from the tiger’s body, leaving only a decomposing carcass behind. The tiger’s remaining eye has gone gelatinous, it’s once beautiful coat now little more than decaying skin sloughing off bone.
Vomit surges up my throat as the putrid smell fills my nose, and by the time Niko’s ribbons manage to heft the massive beast off me, I barely have time to tilt my head sideways and heave.
The rum burns my throat as it comes back up, and my head swims as I gasp for air. My shoulder throbs viciously and my blood peppers the grass as I claw my way back up to a seated position. When I finally look to where the king kneels beside me, I expect to see something like concern. Pity, at the very least.
Instead, Niko examines me warily, his mouth turned down in a suspicious frown.
A long moment passes between us until finally, he lets a breath loose, and says in a dangerous voice, “I want answers, Willa.Now.”
Chapter eleven
Ishould have let Willa drown in the goddamn lagoon.
It was the middle of the night when she tumbled through the wards, but rather than sleeping, I’d been staring down an empty bottle of rum and wallowing in self-pity. Her arrival had been like a jolt of electricity—a lightning strike that burned straight through me; that at once stopped my heart and started its beat again in a new rhythm.
It’s been two centuries since anyone traveled through the wards, and far longer since someone traveled from Willa’s world. Reality has always been too solid there—a thick shroud that keeps most magics from working. I’ve only known of two people that could ever open them from that side, and if Willa did, even by accident, she was exactly who I’ve been waiting for.
So, I’d reached through my tether to the island and told her to fight. It had been a knee jerk reaction, grounded in drunkenness and a despondency that’s sunk more deeply into my bones with every passing year. If Willa traveled through wards I thoughtimpassible, perhaps she could save a kingdom I’ve thought long dead.
And because of my desperate decision, Letum is in upheaval.
The Strayed know of Willa’s arrival and must have the same suspicions about her origins. They haven’t been bold enough to attack Caelum in a quarter-century, my power enough of a threat to keep them corralled in their caves on the south side of the island. Even now, an hour or more after I drained the life from each one and tossed their rotting corpses into the harbor, the roughshod pound of my heart has yet to calm. A slimy film of fear remains on my skin, repetitive thoughts of what would have happened if I hadn’t been at the Pixie.
And now, I’m staring at some beast onmypalace grounds that looks like something straight from a child’s nightmare. Ridiculous, imagined, and vicious.
Willa heaves, emptying the contents of her stomach. Her hair is wild around her head and her cheeks are smudged with dirt and peppered with gore. The sleeve of her dress is shredded, the slashes of skin beneath stained red with blood. The sight of it beckons a storm of emotion—hot and cold currents running so wildly through me, I can’t decide whether I’m terrified or furious.
“What the fuck happened?” I demand hotly, settling on the more manageable of the two emotions.
She glares up at me, her hazel eyes burning. “You tell me, King Putrefied. I thought your palace was supposed to be safe.”
I ignore the jab, even as her words slide through my chest, serving to further unsettle me.Nothingshould be able to enter the grounds of the Lunaedon unless my magic has keyed them to the gates. Taking a leveling breath, I push the thoughts away to contemplate later, and I kneel beside Willa. When I reach to examine her wounded shoulder, she shrugs me off with an annoyed hiss.
