Page 61 of Wraithwound

No, he wasn’t retreating. From her vantage point, she saw the brilliance of the move. The creature thought he was conceding, but he was merely getting into position. As the creature descended, Cross sunk down onto one knee and thrust his sword upward, ensuring that it did so onto the burning tip of his sword.

Just as soon as he’d impaled the creature, he yanked his sword out and rolled out from under it to avoiding being crushed under the weight of the large animal.

With a whistle for Kharon, he managed a running leap onto the horse who took off at a full gallop in the direction of the green fire still cutting a path through the darkness. Lena gaped from her spot at the window, but by the time the Cross made it over to Taryk, the beast he’d been facing lay dead in the grass.

Taryk turned to face Cross, the smug look on his face clear in the green light of his blade. She couldn’t hear what Taryk was saying to Cross, but a screech from above had Cross’s head snapping up to the expanse behind Taryk.

Taryk whirled, lifting his sword, but it was too late. She heard him cry out as the animal pinned him to the ground, claws digging into his shoulders and teeth inches from his face. Cross didn’t make it off Kharon before a small ball of black shadow dove in from above. It landed on the creature’s back and extended its head, jaw opening wider than it should be able to, as it reached down and ripped its throat out.

Lena spun around to see an empty chair behind her. Turning back to the window, she saw the eleuth leap off the creature, its maw slick with blood. The eleuth spit out the animal’s throat on the grass and sat. Cross pushed the limp body of the feline off Taryk, who stood, shoulders bloody, and scrambled away from the eleuth.

Actually, scrambled backwards.

Before either of the men could react further, it launched back into the sky. Taryk stared at Cross wide eyed, his now extinguished sword in the grass next to him.

Cross turned away from Taryk and smiled as he mounted Kharon and rode off, back towards the gates of Lythara.

Not so unskilled after all then.

Chapter

Forty-Two

Once inside, she requested the bath in their washroom be refreshed. The innkeeper took her in, letting his gaze wander over her, and she was glad she’d gone back for her cloak and gloves. When he didn’t speak, she began to wonder if the innkeeper had seen the eleuth or otherwise spotted something else that gave her away.

“I know it isn’t any of my business, but are you safe?” he asked warily.

“Safe?” she asked, making sure she’d heard him correctly.

“Yes. I’ve never seen a young woman traveling with a soldier willingly,” he admitted.

“Oh, I see. But yes, I am here willingly.” Her heart squeezed a bit at his concern.

“All right.” He nodded.

Lena nodded as well, unsure of what to say next, and then she remembered her request. He assured her he would send someone in before going back to his book.

It wasn’t long before the young stable attendant came. Steam now rose from the water, and a new set of soaps and oils had been set out, the scent of cedar and vanilla wafting in. The attendant also brought in a tray of food and set it at the edge of the bed. Lena nodded her thanks, walking over to the clothes she had set out in front of the fire. She was delighted to find that they were already dry. Just as Lena reached for them, the door opened.

Cross entered the room, exhaustion clear on his face. He gave her an assessing glance before walking to the corner and removing his weapons.

“You should eat,” he said, nodding at the tray before walking into the washroom.

Lena glanced at it. She knew she should eat, but her appetite had slowed considerably since the wraith attack.

After changing into her dry clothes and setting the still damp set in front of the fire, she returned to the bed, pulling the tray of food closer. There was an assortment of dried meats, cheese, and fruit paired with crusty bread and honey. She ate quickly, making sure to leave some for Cross.

Exhaustion descended upon her swiftly. It felt like the events of the last few days slammed into her all at once. Suddenly, she was keenly aware of every cut and scrape. The pulsing in her ankle deepened, and she couldn’t wait to stretch it out. Lena carried the tray of food and set it on the small table near the chair Cross had claimed. By the time she made it back to the bed, she could barely keep her eyes open. The last thing she remembered was climbing into the cool sheets before sleep took her.

Lena marveled at the uniformity of the ripples in the sand that made up the dune she stood upon. The sun was blinding, beating down on her from every direction, almost as if multiple suns shared the vast, pale-blue sky above her. She brought her arm up to shield her eyes and realized she was dressed only in an oversized linen shirt.

She looked around, eager to catch a glimpse of her brother. She owed him an apology for drawing the wraith through the dome and wanted to see how he was doing.

But Henry didn’t come.

The sweltering heat sank into her skin, burning the delicate flesh of her scalp, along with her arms and shoulders. Sweat beaded on her forehead and trickled down her back and between her breasts. She tried calling for him, but her voice disappeared into the wind.

Discomfort slowly morphed into pain, the dry, heavy air making it difficult to breathe. Every time the wind kicked up, molten particles of sand struck her bare legs, face, and arms. Then, her feet began to burn.