She was breathtaking.
Askold started trembling violently. Benny pulled the jacket away from his face and noticed it was swelling. Sephyr and Vira quickly approached.
“We have to get him to Tuath before the poison fully sets in,” Vira said.
Aurora neared and nudged her nose into Benny’s side, making a chirping sound from her throat.
Benny glanced at her, momentarily surprised by her altered size and sharper features as she approached. “We need to get Askold to Tuath immediately. Can you carry him?”
Aurora nodded, her molten chrome eyes flicking down at Askold. She hummed and stamped her foot, throwing her head up, as if trying to hurry them up. She knelt to her forelimbs and waited, impatiently huffing through flared nostrils.
Benny, Vira, and Sephyr quickly placed Askold on her back. Aurora stood, and they began to run the rest of the way to Tuath.
Benny only slipped once through the mess they left behind.
Chapter 39
Jason
The stars burned brightly in the sky, despite the time on his watch just striking noon. Each breath that escaped him sent a faint puff of steam from his mouth, rich with hypocrisy.
“Rebecca Halsy, you’re the last Wyrd selectee. Please come forward for processing,” Jason’s voice echoed against the stone walls of the Palatium as he stared across the crowd, searching for the woman. He watched as she turned to her loved ones and embraced them in emotional goodbyes, their soft whimpers traveling across the dusty ground onto the stage.
He ground his teeth together. Unbeknownst to the Monster King, this was the last Wyrd that would ever be held. The sun was now gone, indicating that Solios had finally given up hope.
Portraying himself as their protector, wearing the sanctimonious mask of demise, worn through him with a slow and ravenous fury.
He couldn’t do this anymore. His finger traced alongthe device in his pocket, running it over the button. He wished he could press it now and let all chaos unfold. But it wasn’t the right time.
About a dozen Corvid shifters stood alongside Feich and the Rozzers, who were lining the walls. When they revealed themselves at the beginning of this Wyrd, the people of Joro had a full-out panic. But, following Teivel’s advice, Jason managed to spin the story as if they were compassionate protectors here to restore the cracked dome. Hundreds still flew from above, as if waiting to decide on whether they would follow Feich or his sister.
He looked up at the magical barrier, now broken into a spiderwebbed pattern of fractures that ran up the western side of the city over Cascade. The splinters through the magical barrier pulsed like heartbeats.
The citizens living on that side migrated to Orience, and what a pain in the ass it was to find homes they felt were livable by their standards.
A couple moved into Seda’s old apartment and complained about the broken window. Jason had promised a new one as soon as possible. Little did they know he had never placed the order. He was tired of the classist divide amongst the citizens. Ignorance and biases tore through this city like a plague, infecting those who thought themselves better than others. It was disgusting. Especially since, in the end, they were all just food for the monsters anyway.
“Thank you all for a successful Wyrd. You are proving your love for our society every day by bearing more and more children. I bless you all for your efforts. Please don’t forget to collect your food tokens on the way out,” he numbly mumbled into the microphone and stared down at the exhausted citizens within.
He watched as people began to file through the doors in orderly lines.
Tievel stood beside him and patted him on the shoulder, whispering, “Good job, Lord Jason. As you know, I’m unable to return to the Camp tonight. See to it that things are in order there andreturn here once finished. Also, knock some sense into Mordred, please. Get him to talk. This has gone on long enough.” His beady eyes studied him intently, watching for any signs of betrayal, obviously not concerned whatsoever about the lack of sun today.
When Jason showed no emotion, he patted him once more and walked toward Feich, who was waiting at the edge of the stage. Before talking to Feich, he turned around and said, “Shave the other half of that fucking ugly beard. I’m tired of looking at it.”
“Yes, Sire.” He approached the Palatium entrance, taking a deep breath of the stale air as he ascended the steps toward the mirrored doorway. He would shave his beard eventually, when he felt like it. The half-shaven mess was a silent display of defiance, an internal battle of courage, and it would stay until this mess was over… or it would follow him to his grave, whichever came first.
The rippled mirror flowed over him like water, seeping into every pore on his body. It had been a gift from the Oracle to Mordred years ago, allowing him access to the Camp and back, a way to smuggle inmates back into Joro. When Tievel figured out what it was, he stole it for himself.
That was the day Mordred lost the majority of his teeth.
Jason shuddered at the memory of seeing him ascend the steps and smiling with a jagged grin for the first time. Would the same become of him? He shook his head as the mirror undulated over him. He didn’t care. He would prefer to eat sharp crackers against his gums for the rest of his life rather than live another day like this. What mattered was doing everything he could to help the Darkened descend upon the land and wipe the planet free of this corruption.
“Lord Jason,” the Captain said when he entered the Monster King’s office in the Camp. The slimy fool had been promoted once more after Jason’s ascension to Lord. “Will our Monster King be joining us tonight?”
“No,” he replied curtly. “He would like you to gather all themen and count them.Do it now.I must report back. Leave Mordred, he’s a flight risk.”
Jason knew that rounding up and counting all the men in the camp would cause chaos, and he needed this distraction.
