The converging vampyrs shriek to a halt behind him, a silence descending across them while they pile in behind each other, filling every inch of air until they form a cocoon of waiting death.
They keep their distance from Antony.
My hand remainsplanted on the rock wall, my fingers curled around the rim, my vision blurring so badly now that I can barely focus on Antony any longer.
A chorus of needy voices echoes around me as the swarm presses inward.
“Do not deprive us,” they cry.
“Let us drain her.”
“Let us drink?—”
Antony’s roar silences them. “No.”
At his shout, they jolt backward, but only for a moment before they quickly crowd in again. Yellowed tongues peek between their fangs while their hungry eyes are feverishly bright.
“You can’t stop us,” one of them croons.
“Not this time,” another hisses.
Within my ears comes the memory of vampyric voices, the first time we flew across the bloodlands, begging to drink.
Let us drink her.
They’d come for me. Not Antony. Just another piece of the puzzle I didn’t put together until now.
He spins to them. “You will not touch her!” he roars.
With a savage wrench, he grabs the nearest vampyr and rips its head from its shoulders, spraying black ooze into the air like inky diamonds.
Sparkling… Distorting in my fading vision…
His roar comes from a distance now, mingling with sounds of tearing, struggling, splattering…
“She’s mine.”
I sway forward, unable to stay upright, trying not to fall, but it’s no use.
Before I can right myself, my left hand slips from my neck, and my right hand slides from the rock wall, both limbs too heavy to keep upraised any longer.
I anticipate the long tumble into darkness. The same fall Iforesaw in a vision on the first day I held the Dragonstone Blade. The first day I laid eyes on the three kings.
To two of them, I gave a command, telling them to wait.
Wait.
Wait…
No more time.
My body weight carries me forward, tipping me over the edge, and I prepare myself for the pain of teeth striking and tearing at me while my last lifeblood flows down my chest.
Before I can fall, a quiet arm wraps around me from behind, anchoring me, and a frozen whisper sounds in my ear, bringing with it a melody so calming that the sheer force of it shakes me to my core.
“I’ve got you.”
Strong arms. The ring of steel being sheathed or drawn, I don’t know which. The shimmer of icy-blue snow glimmering as my breath suddenly frosts in the air around me.
