Page 22 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

Our horses’ hooves skidded on the cobblestones as we fled Brutus’s men, taking sharp turns, hoping to lose them.

“The rooftops,” Roderick shouted as an arrow whizzed past my head. We turned down a covered market street. The echoes of the horses’ hooves pounded in my ears. My heart beat faster with every step Arion took. I would not go back to Gideon. I would not be his caged bird again.

We escaped the city and hit an open field of snow. I let Arion loose. As we led the others towards the forest, the ebony stallion lengthened his stride. We were on the edge of the Winter Kingdom and the Court of Sorrows. Gideon did not have a treaty with Queen Nysemia and lacked the boldness to cross the barrier between humans and sylph’s lands.

“A little further,” I whispered to Arion, urging him onward. Riders appeared behind us. Their horses’ breaths turned to mist in the morning sun. I’d recognize their red eyes anywhere. Blood Riders—born and bred to end lives. Death gleamed in their fanged smiles.

“Don’t look back!” Caiden called. “Keep going.”

They needed a chance. Gideon wanted me. “Head for the woods. I’ll meet you there.” I turned Arion violently. He whinnied with displeasure but kept moving.The others split off, heading into the forest.

The Blood Riders followed me, urging their water horses forward. Sharp fangs protruded from the creatures’ mouths as they chased us through open snowy fields. Dread coiled like asnake in my stomach. Arion could not run forever. Eventually, we would hit the great Atruskan River.

The ground quaked under the water horses’ hooves as they gained on us. Still, I urged Arion forward. The stallion gave me everything he had in him. His feet barely touched the ground as we sped through the snow.

A blinding pain seared into my back, hitching the breath in my lungs—an arrow.

My lungs slowly filled with blood, but removing the arrow meant certain death. A river of fire flowed through my veins. Wincing in pain, I reached to feel the weapon.Shit.

The Blood Riders were so close I could smell the rotting flesh on their breaths. I pulled Little Death from its sheath. Dragon steel slayed gods; surely, it could kill a Blood Rider.

I needed to put the dagger where it would do the most damage.

One rider broke away from the pack, surging toward us.

I jumped from Arion, planting my feet into the fresh snow.

Pleasure filled the rider’s dead eyes—he thought he had me now.

I gave him a smile before hurling my dagger with all my might into the horse’s chest.

The creature screamed in pain, slamming its rider into the snow. I held out my hand, calling Little Death back.

The rider lay lifeless, steam rising off the still-warm beast. I scrambled to him, not checking his pulse before I slit his throat. Hot blood spilled from his neck, staining the pristine snow.

A small crossbow dangled from his bandelier. I hastily snatched it before crouching down, using the horse’s body as cover. The rancid stench of the creature brought bile to my throat. With the arrow still lodged in my back and my breathing labored, I waited for the others.

Three more riders approached. Their gray skin identical to theovercast sky. Drool dripped from their long incisors. Where lips should have been, only skin met teeth—monsters just like me.

Firing a bolt, I hit one in the chest. His limp body plunked into the snow like a sack of potatoes.

“Got you now, little lamb,” a deep voice echoed as the other two riders approached. Their water horses strained against the bits, begging to taste the blood on the snow.

Laying perfectly still, my breath barely a whisper, I waited for them.

Their boots crunched in the hardened snow as they dismounted.

One bolt left.

The crunching grew louder with each step, scraping against my eardrums. I gritted my teeth to withstand the pain. The iron flowing through my veins made it impossible to use my telepathy.

“Ah, Aelia, always the troublemaker.”

I grimaced at the voice of one of my guards in Ryft’s Edge.

My spine screamed in pain as he yanked my hair, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of hearing me cry. Clenching my jaw, I dug my bare hands into the snow. The burning cold distracted me from the arrow in my back.

He leaned down so his lips were practically on my ear. “You could’ve made this easy. Now I have to explain to the king how you got an arrow in your back.”

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