The summer fae nodded in silent confirmation.
“All right,” Sidrick said, resigned, “we go through. It’ll be louder, so make sure to drag your feet through the leaves along the ground. It will make it easier for my unara to cover our tracks. Also, weapons out. Thosethingsseemed to appear out of nowhere before, and I’d rather be overly cautious.”
The sound of both of them pulling out his swords from their sheaths filled the air, and the weight of Sidrick’s caution pressed upon my chest as I stepped out behind him, blades ready.
As we shuffled along, I couldn’t help but feel the stark contrast to how Eithan and I would’ve done this. We’d be laughing at the top of our lungs as we kicked the leaves at each other.
Eventually, the steady cadence of rasping leaves giving way as we slid across the long valley was a welcome counterweight to the fast staccato of my heart, the combined rhythm eventually soothing my fraying nerves—that is, until a low hum below the soles of my boots froze me in place.
The three of us didn’t so much as breathe for a heartbeat.
Sidrick was careful not to make a sound as he shifted his upper body, checking in on us. I nodded, letting him know I was okay. I didn’t have to look behind me to know Tarrin had given the same, silent answer.
The air was eerily still as if the land was holding her breath along with us. After a moment, Caius’ third tipped his chin down, letting me know we’d continue.
Turning back, he took a cautious step forward, and as if he’d triggered something, the ground trembled a second before leaves exploded between us in an eruption of soil and debris.
Throwing my hands up, a scream ripped from my chest as the force of it kicked me back with the weight of a waterfall, stealing all sense of direction as my head and back collided against something solid.
Chapter 45
Lessons Learned
My ears rang with a sound so sharp it had me opening and closing my jaw in a vain attempt to dispel it. Blinking, I was met by endless leaves, their russet tones lazily floating down from the blue sky as if someone had taken a manuscript and thrown the unbound pages over a balcony.
“Tarrin?” I croaked, feeling something warm at my back.
No response.
“Tarrin!?” I said with more urgency, flipping over and pressing my hands against him.
No, not him. Against one ofthem.
My mouth went dry when the taut muscles under the warm, black, leathery skin of the hound shifted as it stood to its full, towering height. I was caged in by the four-legged demon and swallowed in darkness as it dug its talons into the ground on either side of my shoulders, each paw nearly as big as my head. Lowering its face to mine, it sniffed in quick succession before revealing its long fangs and bellowing a roar so loud I winced away from it. Warm, wet saliva dripped on my forehead, and I’d had enough.
Without a second thought, I lifted a dagger in each hand andcrisscrossed my arms in anx, the outer edges of the blades against its thick neck. Then, in one lethal movement, I uncrossed my hands outward with as much force as I could muster, the blades sliced through its jugular. I pressed my eyes and mouth closed, turning my face just as the deluge of black blood coated me in its slick heat—and fuck, did it remind me of the na’li.
The beast tried to roar, and in its place was a sickening sound of gurgled blood escaping from the slits I’d carved. Seconds later, the ground to my right reverberated as the massive beast toppled to the side.
Blades still in hand, I crudely wiped away the slick blood covering my face and stood up, shifting to a fighter’s stance.
Tarrin was in my line of sight, back toward where we’d entered. He swung his sword in a wide arc, which seemed to keep the three ungodly beasts at bay, at least for now. The hounds covered the crisp leaves underfoot in pools of black blood. Tarrin had injured them, but unlike mine, they hadn’t died. Their blood ran the same color as the na’li, and like Endymion had claimed—they could only be killed one way.
“Go for their throats,” I called out. “You can’t kill them by stabbing the hearts.”
“Gods, I hate this fucken place and its gods-forsaken magic,” Tarrin grumbled as he shifted his stance. I couldn’t blame him. It was one thing to fight for your life; a completely different thing when the rules of engagement were different from what you’d trained for. In Tarrin’s case, he’d trained a certain way for centuries only to find out it wouldn’t be effective.
“Nyleeria,” Sidrick called out from behind me.
I whirled around imbuing two daggers with fire before letting them fly one at a time. The beast roared as the blades sank into their target, each beady black eye impaled to the hilt. A heartbeat later, fire exploded from the daggers turning the sockets into empty, blackened holes. Then, as the weight of the daggers returned to the bandolier, the burns seemingly turned the fleshto dust, the rest of the body disintegrating downward. It was like watching a god tip over a handful of sand, allowing gravity to pull the granular remnants of the creature to the ground until it was nothing more than a black mound atop brittle leaves crumbling under its weight.
A shiver ran through me, and I ignored it before imbuing another two daggers. “Try the eye sockets.” I threw over my shoulder at Tarrin, who only had one demon left.
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to ask it to lay down so I can reach,” he shot back.
Shaking my head at him, I threw another set of embed daggers toward his beast, turning it to ash.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
