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Heir of Twisted Lies

Page 119

by L.J. Andrews

Dreams can be nothing more than our minds reminding us of our fears.

“But what if they are not dreams?”

My blood quickened. I kicked off the back of the horse and drew my blade. One palm on the neck of the beast, the other out so she could read my every word. Then remember, there are no lines with me, wife.

Lyra dismounted and readied her bow. I tilted my head to one side. The searing burn cut through the scar across my throat. Craft, cold and thick, roared in my skull. Before I recalled the truth of my past, I hardly sensed the pull of my darker soul when Dravens had used its power.

When my own cruelty reared its head, the burn was there, a doorway I could unlatch, but I had no power to truly command the split.

Now it was a rush. A frigid tide spilling from navel to nose, pouring out of me like stepping free of my own shadow. Two of the Stav Guard still shouted in stun when the fully shaped form of the deledan poured out of me.

The others hardly noticed.

Thane merely shook his head, muttering about wasted opportunities, and loaded his own bow.

I had hardly taken a step before the first arrow shot into our camp, the point sinking deep into the throat of one of Thane’s Stav.

The man coughed, blood spilled over his lips for a few heartbeats, then he fell facedown. Dead.

Shouts broke the silence. More arrows arched toward us in an ambush. At once, my darkness divided into murky rivers of shadows and wove deeper into the trees, hunting any hidden souls. Lyra, Brynn, and Thane fired their arrows into the darkness.

Sick thuds sounded when a point found the heart. Lyra fired at a slower pace, a white gleam to her eyes as she melded her arrows to hidden archers, but every shot brought a man down from the trees.

Stav Guard.

Thane barked commands to cease the moment he recognized the emblem of the white wolf across gambesons of the dead.

The attack did not cease.

Five. Ten. Shadows hunted the trees, finding the taste of souls. They all left a briny layer on my tongue, harsh with hate. It was what first connected the darkness to Lyra; she tasted warm, sweet like nectar.

Around the bend in the path more Stav Guard ran for us, blades at the ready. Gunter bellowed, shouted, and laughed a little maniacally. He swung one sword in each hand, slicing at throats and bellies.

Auki was different. Smooth movements, almost gliding across the clearing like a dancer. The man could cut through a heart, then spin around and ram the point of his knife through a throat.

Brynn shouted short commands at Òlmr while Emi took to slamming her knives into the ribs of Stav Guard, short, quick, deadly strikes. Twice, my cousin pressed her palm against the arm of a Stav to use her bone craft. She despised snapping bones, for the consequence would bring her pain. Still, when the Stav’s screams rose over the fight, when his bones bent and cracked, my cousin’s lips split into a vicious sort of grin.

When using craft grew too much, Emi slumped.

Before the blade of another raging warrior could strike down Emi, Yrsa stepped in front of her, the princess’s knife ending in the man’s heart.

I favored my ax in times like this. Killed faster with more brute force. It offered me time to focus on the craft of my soul to chase hiding Stav.

Kyrre! I summoned the fara in my thoughts. No one gets near her.

Black fur darted across the path. Stav Guard who aimed for Lyra and her arrows were pummeled to the ground by heavy paws and dripping teeth.

Ice ran down my spine, blood splattered on my face, and my ax lowered to the side. Slowly, my attention went to the curve in the path. My darkness tasted a soul, almost…almost familiar, but changed. Parts were harsh and burned against my tongue. But beneath it was a warmth, like Lyra’s.

Steel clashed against steel at my back. I looked nowhere but at the broad, hulking form walking through the murky shadows.

I stumbled back when his features—bulky and a little misshapen—came into view.

“You really going to let her kill me, Ashwood? She’d never forgive you.”

Ten paces in front of me, Kael Darkwin flashed a cruel, unfamiliar smile right before he drew his blade and lunged for my heart.

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