Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 42412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
“Blood that smells of a god,” Attes commented, crossing his arms over his chest.
I swiped my tongue across my lower lip. The sound of his sigh pulled at the corners of my mouth.
Kieran turned back to the mist. “I’m assuming you had another visitor.”
“I did.”
“I suppose we now know why there is a horde of Craven amassing outside the Rise,” he commented.
“I suppose,” I murmured, scanning the mist.
“Did you happen to learn anything from the visitor?” Attes asked. “Or did you lose your patience again?”
“I was patient.” The thought of the god’s taunts sent a pulse of icy eather through me. “Until I wasn’t.” I placed my hands on the ledge of the Rise, aware of Murin nearing the parapet. “I didn’t learn anything new.”
“Your Majesty.” He bowed slightly. When I said nothing, he cleared his throat, turning his attention to Attes and Kieran. “Do we know what led the Craven here?”
“Kolis,” Attes answered.
The essence flared stronger as I heard Aylard swallow and listened to his heart rate pick up.
“Is he here?” Aylard asked, his voice level despite the pounding of his heart.
“No. He doesn’t need to be here to lead them here,” Attes reminded the general as Kieran shifted so his shoulder rested against mine. “Kolis controls all that is dead. Even the living dead.”
A sound came, drawing our attention to the mist. It was a low howl of insatiable hunger that rose into a shrill wail. The sound came again and again as a horn blew, warning the city of an incoming attack.
Not that the already-silent city needed to be warned.
All along the Rise, archers shifted, waiting for their orders. The other generals on the Rise, aware of my presence, stayed quiet. I could feel Kieran’s stare on me.
“They can be taken care of easily.” I looked at him. A muscle along his jaw throbbed. “You could’ve already taken care of this. Both of you could have.”
Kieran said nothing.
What I said was the truth. He had enough eather to level half the Craven out there on the field. So did Attes.
“Go ahead,” I said, a smile playing across my lips. “Say what you want to say.”
Kieran’s gaze slid to mine, the golden aura behind his pupils pulsing.
“Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.” I mimicked his flat affect.
He lifted a brow. “You used to say that yourself.”
“He did?” Attes questioned.
“Yes.” Kieran turned his head and looked forward. “As hard as that may be to believe now.”
I smirked.
“Incoming!” A shout came from farther down the Rise, one belonging to Naill.
My gaze briefly flickered down the wall, searching for the Elemental I hadn’t seen since…
Since before.
The mist churned and throbbed, rolling across the clearing as the shrieks and gnashing teeth grew into a disturbing symphony of fucked-up-ness.
“Godsdamnit,” Kieran muttered before turning sharply. “Light the trench!”
A volley of flaming arrows shot into the air, leaving a trail of embers in their wake. They arced downward, striking the wooden spikes sharpened into points and soaked in oil. Flames erupted, rapidly spreading along the trench just as the Craven burst from the mist, their milky-white skin and hairless skulls gleaming under the glare of the moon.
“Fates,” Attes muttered, disgust clinging to the single word as the first of the Craven ran straight into the fire.
It flung itself around, screaming.
“You’ve never seen this?” Kieran asked him.
The Primal god shook his head.
“Driven by hunger, they lack all common sense…” I trailed off as I watched one stumble over another and fall into the sunken lane of flames. “And, apparently, agility.”
I could feel Attes’s stare land on me.
The scent of burning, rotting flesh filled the air as I eyed the still-thick mist that now stretched across the horizon.
Kieran’s attention was where mine was. So were his thoughts. “There have to be hundreds.”
“The fire won’t stop them,” I noted.
A heartbeat later, my words were proven correct. The bodies of the fallen Craven were snuffing out the flames, allowing gaps to form in the line. A handful of Craven made it through, flames clinging to their tattered clothing. They wouldn’t be a problem. Not with their dried-out skin. But the gaps widened, and more Craven emerged, untouched by the fire.
“Fire!” Kieran ordered.
Atlantian soldiers, armed with crossbows, moved in front of the mortal guards. Grips steady on the handles, they aimed, bolts already nocked. They fired, releasing and restringing far quicker than one could with a regular bow. The volley of arrows reached the Craven, cutting them down as the bloodstone tore through flesh and bone.
It didn’t matter how fast they were, though. As rotted as the Craven’s minds were, and even with their lack of agility, they were fucking fast. A wave reached the foot of the Rise within seconds.
Idleness was stretching my skin taut.
“You were right, Kieran.”
His head snapped toward me, a crease forming between his brows. “Part of me doesn’t want to ruin the moment of you actually saying I’m right by asking what I was right about.”