“What does it matter?” Thamaos says. “Either way, your true fear is that I will rise again. And I will. Soon. Much thanks to you and your new friends, the Frost King is in our hands, and the God Knife is finally home. Before long, we will be reunited, my throne reclaimed.”
Thamaos’s creature trails a glance over me as I turn, slowly following him with a narrowed gaze. “By whom? You or the prince? I’m fairly certain the prince believes it’s him who will reign over Tiressia.”
The creature huffs, blowing the dusty remains from the forest floor into the air. “I have always seated kings, Alexi. What makes you think I don’t plan to offer the prince a place at my side?”
“You’re assuming he can restore your life. Resurrection won’t be so easy,” I warn. “The God Knife doesn’t give your puppet prince a key into the Grove of the Gods. Neither does having possession of Colden Moeshka. If you think Fia or I will allow you or your man anywhere near the City of Ruin, you are sorely mistaken.”
He tosses his dark head back and laughs. “My, my. Such empty threats.” He slices a steely look my way. “Your memory must fail you, Un Drallag. You should know better than to think that I don’t have a plan.”
“I will stop you,” I promise him as a chill wind that feels far too much like Neri breezes over me. “I will fight until my last breath before I ever see you walking and breathing in this world again.”
Suddenly, the forest creature is looming over me, bending until it’s staring me in the face, toeing the line of blessed salt around me. Its pale green skin roils like a storm trapped beneath glass, eyes aglow like embers of a stoked fire.
It glances at the key around my neck, then opens that earthen mouth to speak.
But before Thamaos’s voice pours from the depths of this wind-borne creation, its eyes slither to my left, widen infinitesimally, and glow even brighter.
“You,” he hisses, the word trembling the air with a visceral hatred I feel throughout my being.
I expect to hear Neri’s voice, but there is no reply. And that rattles me even worse than if the God of the North had shouted across the clearing. Because for the first time since I carved it into my skin, my rune warms with vibrant, flaming heat as panic and a fierce furor rushes through the bond, nearly taking me to my knees.
The raging fire of a protective woman.
Raina.
8
RAINA
Run. Run, run, run.
The moment that thing locks its gaze with mine, my instinct screams that single word over and over. Or maybe it's Alexus, sending an order along the bond, a connection I now feel so entirely that I’m shaking from the power of it.
I don’t get a chance to decide which one is sounding the alarm, my body or my lover, because as Alexus swings around, the creature standing with him explodes into a whirl of detritus.
Just as quickly, the thing reforms at the edge of the stones and slams against a tangled web of light, a shield between us. It roars like an unholy demon, the sound booming through the wood, stirring birds and creatures from their nests.
There are a few strides and a magickal wall keeping us apart, but I still flinch and lift my dagger, waiting for an attack.
What is this thing? A forest wraith?
I sniff the air, waiting for the scent of brimstone to strike me the way it did with Hel in the construct, but it never comes.
“Callan, break the circle!” Alexus tosses Callan a knife, the weapon flying end over end. By some miracle, Callan snatches it from the air like a master, by the hilt.
The creature jerks around to look at Alexus but turns back to me. “You will pay for all that you’ve done, Witch Walker. There will come a day when no magick, no sorcerer, not even time, distance, or realms, will keep you from my wrath. Know that. Don’t ever forget it.” It presses its massive hands against the shield, a malevolent smile curling the corner of its mouth. “I am Thamaos, God of the Eastern Territories, and I’m coming for you and all you hold dear, Raina Bloodgood.”
I swallow hard. Thamaos.
Thamaos?
In the next instant, the web of light flickers out, and the creature disintegrates again, but this time, the million pieces of the forest that this thing seems to be made from fall to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Still shaking, I dart a glance at Callan, on their knees and panting, hood fallen around their shoulders, hands pressed to the earth. The salt ring around the stones now has a broken place, all magick within gone.
Alexus jumps down from the rocks and hurries to me. I sheathe my dagger, and he takes me in his arms, drawing me to his chest. I cling to him, trying to understand what in the Nether Reaches just happened, but also reveling in the bond, the connection thrumming and alive, open for both of us. I can feel his relief, his worry, his…
Blinking, I look up at him, stunned. Eyes wide, I search his gaze as heat flashes up my neck. He studies my face, and I know he sees the question there, the realization and recognition of all he holds inside his heart for me. But he makes no mention of it, and the feeling disappears from the bond, as though he’s tucked it away in some dark corner for now.
