Page 158 of Merciless Is My Crown

“Cosimo tried. The thing just…fucking ate every last drop.”

I reinforced the wall as Tristan dropped down beside us. “I tried fire. Tried iron-tipped arrows. Nothing works.”

“Do you get the feeling you…” I bit my lip. “Know what these things are? Like you’ve seen them before somewhere?”

The look they traded was answer enough for me.

“The gods came here from another world. We’re from another world. This thing’s from that world, too. There’s nothing there except mists and sand and this black rock that’s sharp as glass. Do you think…something from our old world could kill these shadows?”

“Obsidian,” they said together. “Dragon glass.”

“I’m on it.” Tristan leapt for the wall, found a handhold, and yanked himself up and over the gutter. “The apothecary is close by. I’ll be back fast as I can.”

His footfalls disappeared overhead as Raziel and I turned back to the coils of liquid darkness writhing before us. “What about the people the Oracle possessed?”

“Zor and Cosimo chased one group that way.” He jerked his head to the right. “Everyone else went the other way. But I’m not worried about some zombified shopkeepers.” He met my eyes. “This creature, whatever it is…wants you, Anaria. Only you.”

“The city’s packed full of refugees and children. The wagons are due to arrive before dawn, laden with supplies. Those farmers will never return if we can’t protect them on our own territory.”

“They’ll stop the shopkeepers,” Raz told me steadily, as if it was already done. “We have to deal with this…thing.”

“Ideas?” I asked as the slippery shadows rammed against my shield, hard enough to rattle my teeth and shatter the windows on either side of us. “What if we held them off until the sun came up?”

“My guess is, they’ll just hide until nightfall.” He slid me a look. “Which is why Trubahn waited until dark for his uprising that wasn’t really an uprising.”

“And where are all these magic wielders? Hiding in their shops, hoping we take care of the problem?”

“Of course they are,” Raz growled, his nostrils flaring the same time his eyes did. “I smell blood. You’re hurt.” His gaze dipped down to my arm then my leg. “What…When did that happen?”

“Long story. The arm is from the Oracle, the leg is all me.”

“Hold still.” Raziel pressed his palm to my chest and warmth flooded through me like a wave, feeling so good I had to resist closing my eyes and relaxing into his touch. “There. You can explain later.”

The shadow creatures moved so fast they blurred, smearing against the shadows. The only time they stopped was when they hit my barrier, starlight disappearing down that gullet like the thing couldn’t consume my magic quickly enough.

“I’m going to try something.”

“No, Anaria,” Raz growled. “This is not the time for experimentation. Keep that wall in place and wait for Tristan to get back with the dragon glass.”

The shadows retreated, writhing together like nesting serpents, calling more and more until every piece of darkness merged into one enormous creature. A gaping round mouth rimmed with teeth, a ring of eyes that encircled the entire girth so it had no top or bottom.

Raz fed magic into my wall, my shadows solidifying, but this time, when the creature launched itself toward us, I knew—I fucking knew—that barrier wouldn’t hold.

I stepped through the wall, shoved past my magic, Raziel’s glittering dust falling off me like grains of sparkling sand, and spread my arms wide as the monster barreled into me.

For the briefest flash—a nanosecond suspended in time—I was back on that world the Oracle had shown me, but this time…this time…

I sat on a throne of obsidian, as cold and as unforgiving as the icy winds that wailed through my palace. The mists were thick today, thicker than usual, as my sister strode up the center aisle, ignoring my lovely little darklings, their teeth snapping at her heels as she passed by.

“We need to leave this place. It is dying. Dead.”

I gazed upon her and mourned. Gelvira was as beautiful as she was cunning. Blessed by the gods, a huntress of many worlds, and able to travel through the veils at will, unlike the rest of us who were trapped in this dying place.

“We will not poison another world as we have this one.”

How many times had I said these words to her? My faithful companions came to stand behind me, a unified front against Gelvira and Corvus, who was creeping up behind her like a dark stain, turning the mists black.

“There are other worlds with so much magic you could feed on that power for a millennium and only taste a drop of what they have to offer,” she crooned. “You condemn us to death by remaining here.”

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