Chapter 46
Wielders—both alive and resurrected—crash together in an epic battle of bloodshed and desperation.
The sound of metal clangs into the air, and sparks fly, like thousands of bolts of lightning striking the ground. I stay close to Silas, wielding my magic and axes as if they were an extension of me. The exhaustion I once felt has vanished, and I tear down every creature that steps in my path, but they keep coming. I glance over my shoulder to see Oak and Larkin remaining close. One always has the other’s back, fighting like trained warriors.
The warriors of Andorwood swarm the pier, attempting to push any creatures into the choppy sea below. Screams echo into the night sky, and I lose myself in rage. My darkness swells, and I can feel magic leaking from everyone around me—as if the masses are drunk on power and fury—seeping into the air like a dense fog that clouds over the moon.
I feel like I’m moving in slow motion as I turn and swirl my axes around me. I continue to move, never stopping, as I’vebeen instructed. I don’t dare look at the faces of the once-living Wielders I strike down.
From the beginning, there’s been a fear that I may recognize one of the resurrected Wielders, and I know that would cause everything in my system to beg me to stop—to try to save them, knowing they can’t be saved. I take a break from my axes, sending a surge of power forward that knocks three to the ground in a tangled mess. Oak takes the opportunity to drive his jeweled sword into the necks of the fallen.
As many as we kill, more continue to pour off the ship, like a disease spreading across the land. The creatures push with all their power to get past us on the pier, and with every passing second, our line of Wielders weakens.
Rotting teeth snap in my face as I’m pushed backward toward the cobblestone street. A few creatures race past me on all fours, disappearing into the alleyways of the kingdom.
“They are too strong,” I shout toward Silas.
“Has anyone seen Cyrus?” Larkin shouts over the chaos.
Silas spins, taking down one of the creatures, narrowly missing its long claw.
“No, no one’s seen him,” he responds, and continues to slash through the grey, rotting creatures that cover the land.
“Fucking coward,” Larkin shouts as he sends a blast of light into the chest of a creature.
Silas and Oak’s faces now look similar to mine—coated in blood and sweat—but they continue to fight, exhaustion not an option. Silas slices a creature in two and turns to sprint in my direction, never allowing too much distance to separate us. He quickly fills the gap, assisting me in taking down anything that steps in our path. Oak and Larkin continue to fight alongside the Andorwood civilians.
The ground is scattered with bodies, and I blink past the horrors that fill my eyes. Images of creatures, Wielders, andresurrected Wielders burn once more into my mind, and I fight back the urge to spill my stomach. A loud scream pulls my gaze, and I see creatures begin to climb over the heads of Wielders, their swords no match for the deadly things recently released from the depths of the ship.
“Tighten up,” Silas commands.
The people of Andorwood come together in a human wall, attempting to keep the creatures from passing and disappearing into the alleyways.
“We need to go into the city and fight the ones that have made it past; we can’t let them overrun the streets,” Silas yells to Larkin and Oak. “Dozens have gone by already.”
They nod, signaling for someone to cover their spots quickly, and race toward us.
We unite as a front and dash down the cobblestone streets, deeper into the heart of the kingdom. Screams echo through each alleyway, and as I round each corner, I flinch in anticipation of what lurks in the darkness.
Claws scrape against the stones, and I hear feet shuffling in every direction. The narrow passages grow disorienting as I continue to follow closely behind Silas, Oak, and Larkin, bringing up the rear.
“They are looking for Fen,” I shout ahead, and Silas turns left into a thin pocket of shadows, allowing us to rest for a moment.
We huddle close, each of us gasping for air, and Oak rests his hand on his knees momentarily. My lungs burn as they expand, desperate for a deep breath in this thick, musty air.
“I haven’t seen Warrick,” I say.
“He took Fen to the house,” Silas breathes.
“So, she’s safe?” Oak asks.
The color drains from my face when the thought hits me. I turn to Silas, and his brows narrow.
“What?” Silas snaps. “What is that face for?”
“Carobon will feel her pull. She may not be able to resist Rohhit since he’s this close.” I gasp for breath before continuing. “She may not be strong enough to control the pull, yet.”
“Fuck,” Silas shouts, and drives his fist into a nearby stone wall.
