Page 146 of Black Sea

Yelgnib inhaled sharply and looked down, wide-eyed. I gradually withdrew my hands from his face, took a step back, and, holding my breath, slowly turned around.

A blanket of darkness resembling snakes was sinuously winding across the ground, weaving between the frozen present’s legs. Paralyzed, I watched it curl around the tall torch shafts, snuffing out the flames one by one.

Until we were in the dark, cut off by those few, faint beams of pearly light from the stars and moon that managed to filter through the thick fronds of the trees.

I searched for my father’s and brother’s gaze, and the most primitive fear raked its icy claws down my spine. They responded with resolute expressions and drew their swords, followed by our soldiers.

The dark, smoky snakes started to rise from the ground.

I spun toward my cousin. “Run!”

A single, startled, suffering sob stitched out of him, for a black blade had just stabbed his stomach.

I looked at the tip of the broadsword, which had stopped just short of my belly, then raised my wide eyes to meet Yelgnib’s horrified face. Blood began to gush from his parted lips.

The weapon jerked upward, cutting his chest, neck, and skull in half.

Thick crimson streams spilled over my hands, which I had instinctively reached out to him, as well as over my dress and face, and splashing into my eyes and mouth. Petrified, I watched my cousin’s corpse collapse on the ground, his slimy organs sliding out of the two halves of his torn torso.

Just like it had happened with Serie.

Shocked, I looked up at the murderer in front of me. The shadows seemed to emerge directly from his black robe. The stiff onyx decorations resembled rivulets of shiny liquid running down his forearms, shoulders, and chest.

He was so majestic that I felt completely overwhelmed.

He was the embodiment of the end.

And his expression was so cold that it showed no trace of humanity.

“I warned you,” was all he said.

“Nauriel!” Araton yelled, about to make a dash for me.

But Mornon’s repulsive monsters burst from the darkness, quickly turning the clearing into a scene of pure violence. Multicolored energy from the witches’ hands streaked through the air, striking the creatures but not stopping them. The elves’ slender swords sliced through their twisted limbs, only for the limbs to regenerate immediately. The elder witches tried to form shields using their white magic, but the monsters reabsorbed into shadows, slipping past the barriers and reappearing behind them.

Blood began to gush, staining the fir trunks and lower branches. Gruesome cries mingled with the creatures’ guttural calls and the slimy sound of bodies dismembered by their claws and the sound of bones breaking under their saber fangs.

Araton kept screaming my name at the top of his lungs, trying to push his way through to reach me, but he was constantly pushed back.

My father roared continuously to defend Calien’s Crystal, trying to reach the altar. “Queen Aloiv! Hide the Crystal again, quick!”

Mornon’s predatory gaze shifted to the woman.

She met his eyes, but despite her terror and blood-soaked wounds, she extended her arms toward the altar and began to make gestures with her hands, her lips moving almost imperceptibly as she recited the formula.

Mornon lost interest in me and, after his weapon vanished, he walked toward the woman with a clear intent burning in his eyes.

Killing her.

I had to do something. I couldn’t just stand by while the people around me fought and died because of me.

I had to stop Mornon.

So, I looked around very quickly for a weapon. An eviscerated soldier, a few steps from me, was still clutching his sword. I was about to dive for it . . .

But something blocked me.

I lowered my eyes, wincing. Darkness was wrapped around my wrists and ankles like chains emerging from underground.