Page 2 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

Sorcery: expels poison.

The muscles in his abdomen contracted, and he groaned as bile burned his throat. He reached up to wipe sweat off his forehead, but mud coated his gloved hand. The foamy vomit had a stench different from the stench of the marsh. He moaned and clutched at his stomach as he vomited a third time, his whole body shaking and achy.Times like this, I wish Icoulddie.

He heard a new sound among the quiet rustling of the marsh. Clomp, squelch, clomp, squelch from every side. He blinked back the sweat running into his eyes and looked up through the mud and hair sticking around his face. Tall marsh grass blocked his view. His hand shook as he drew his sword and used it to push himself to his feet. His vision blacked out again and his head spun. He closed his eyes, steadying himself.

He opened his eyes to a towering centaur staring down at him. The horse half was the size of a destrier, with a dark brown coat the same shade as the human half’s skin. A large broadsword gleamed in the centaur’s hands, held in front of a leather breastplate. The centaur stomped a hoof, and the muscles in his bare arms bulged as he pointed his sword at Regulus.

Great.Regulus had only had the misfortune of crossing a band of centaurs once, and he and his men had barely escaped alive. On the bright side, his stomach was unclenching, the burning in his throat subsiding, and the light-headed feeling receding.

“You have stolen from the Forbidden Marsh.” The centaur’s voice was commanding and deep. “You cannot leave the marsh with the starshade roots. Surrender them or die.”

Regulus counted six other centaurs surrounding him. Three men with swords, two women with drawn bows, and a smaller male centaur whose human half looked to be maybe fourteen. The young centaur gripped a spear and swayed, his eyes wide.Not a child. Etiros, why?Regulus swallowed, his anguished heart crying out in the hope that somehow, after all he had done, the creator-god still heard his prayers.Not a child.

Regulus looked back at the centaur who had spoken. “I don’t want trouble,” he said slowly. He raised his sword and assumed a defensive position. “But I’m afraid I can’t give up the roots.”

“Starshade roots are only good for poison and sorcery!” A female centaur to his right eyed Regulus down the shaft of an arrow.

Of course they were. Why else would the sorcerer want them?

“We are the protectors of the Forbidden Marsh,” the first centaur said. “You will leave the roots or die.”

If only.Regulus rolled his shoulders, his strength returning. He took a step back. “Please. Don’t attack me. Ireallydon’t want to hurt anyone.”

The centaur frowned. “You are a very good liar.”

“It’s the truth.” Regulus eyed his helm lying in the mud. “I wish you no harm. But I have no choice. I have to take the starshade roots. And you won’t kill me. You can’t.”

“Jaresha.” The centaur stomped a hoof.

He heard the twang of a bowstring and dove for his helm. An arrow flew over him as he replaced his mud-covered helm on his head. Another arrow pinged off his armor. He bolted for the space to the brown centaur’s right. These centaurs weren’t evil. They didn’t deserve to die. He wouldn’t kill them unnecessarily. The power of the sorcerer’s mark lent speed to his legs, giving him a slim chance of outrunning the centaurs.

Pain burned from the mark hidden under the gauntlet on his right arm. He groaned and skidded to a stop, remembering the sorcerer’s directions.“Kill anyone or anything that tries to stop you.”He turned and the pain faded. The brown centaur charged.

The centaur slammed his broadsword into Regulus’ chest, knocking him onto his back. Regulus swung at the centaur’s forelegs and the centaur screamed as the massive blade cleaved through bone. Regulus winced at the sound. One of the female centaurs shrieked while the wounded centaur collapsed.

Regulus scrambled to his feet and turned to go. The pain in his arm redoubled.No. I don’t want to do this.

“Don’t try to stop me!” Some part of his mind whispered it wouldn’t matter, they had already tried, the mark wouldn’t let him leave until they were all dead, but he had to hope. He had to try.

An arrow found the gap under the side of Regulus’ helm and buried in his neck. He choked and swayed as his vision spotted from the pain. He ripped the arrow out. As he fell forward, he jammed his sword into the ground and used it to remain standing. An agonizing prickling sensation pulled at the hole in his neck until it closed. He took a deep breath and straightened.

A female centaur with a white coat and golden hair gaped, her face pale. Her bow trembled in her hands. The lead male centaur had fallen on his side and was hyperventilating between shrieks. Both human and equine lungs heaved. Regulus looked at the hacked-off end of the centaurs’ leg.At this point, it’s a mercy.The mark on his arm burned and ached, goading him on. He raised the sword and swung. The other centaurs screamed. He looked away from the headless body.

“I’m leaving. You’re not stopping me,” Regulus said. He turned away and bit back a cry as pain sliced up his right arm from the mark to his shoulder.

“He must have a bond,” a male voice said behind him. Disturbed wonder laced the centaur’s strained voice. “He can’t die.”

Regulus took another step.They’re letting me go,he told himself. As if maybe he could convince the mark. Pain spread over his shoulder and reached into his chest, clawing across his skin and grinding through his bones. His heart ached, but he turned back around.Maybe if they say it...

“Say you’re not stopping me. You’re letting me go.”

The centaurs shuffled and glanced at each other. Muck flew up from the boy’s frantically tapping hooves. The boy glanced at the dead centaur and whimpered. His spear shook in his hands.

The pain stopped. Regulus felt a tickle at the back of his head, like something wiggling into his brain. He barely had time to thinkno, not againbefore he lost all control of his body. He could still sense everything. His hands gripping the sword. The sharp tang of centaur blood. He still stared at the group of frightened and uncertain-looking centaurs. But he couldn’t so much as blink. The sorcerer’s presence in his mind felt like a tiny piece of sharp, cold iron lodged in his head.

His mouth moved at the sorcerer’s command. Regulus’ voice came out, but the words were not his. “What is going on?” He looked down at the dead centaur as the sorcerer controlled his body, looking through his eyes.

No, stop.He tried to close his eyes, to look away, anything. But he couldn’t. The sorcerer gazed at Regulus’ bloody handiwork, meaning Regulus did, too. He looked at the centaurs who were still alive. Regulus’ consciousness felt trapped in someone else’s body. His mind screamed. His body didn’t care.

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