Page 189 of Children of Fallen Gods

I did not need to be told what I was listening to. I had been presented the hands of slaves. And now I was being given their death screams.

Something inside of me snapped. I didn’t think before raising Il’Sahaj — before I was lunging.

My slash made contact. I felt the satisfying bite of Il’Sahaj’s blade into flesh. Or— was it flesh? A spray hit me across the face, but it was not warm like blood, and seconds later, it began toburn.

The thing barely faltered. Its movements were choppy, as if it skipped through time, discarding half-seconds. Even up close, I could not see its face. But from within the strange shadow, I saw glimpses — glimpses of people screaming in pain and terror.

It went for my throat.

But Max lunged faster, staff alight with fire so bright that embers floated around him as he buried it deep within the creature’s body. The thing shuddered, as if moving in a hundred directions at once.

Max snarled as he unleashed a burst of flame, and I withdrew Il’Sahaj for another strike, and—

Suddenly we were alone.

The creature’s absence was so jarring that Max stumbled back. We found ourselves just blinking at each other, our weapons still raised.

Seconds of silence passed.

“What,” Max said, quietly, “in the name of the fucking Ascended was that?”

“It is still here, somewhere,” I whispered.

I didn’t know how I was so certain. But when Max inclined his chin, I knew he felt it, too. He lifted his fingers, and all of the lanterns in the house whispered to life, dim red light blooming over the walls.

Slowly, we paced around the perimeter of the room. And then, down the hallway. Max was ahead of me, the firelight reflecting a sheen on his bare back. With the tip of his staff’s blade, he nudged open the door to our bedroom, then lifted his fingers to bring fire to the lanterns. They illuminated nothing but the crumpled blankets on the empty bed and overflowing bookshelves.

It was utterly still. Utterly silent.

Max eyed the pile of sheets on the bed with suspicion, gingerly pulling them aside with his weapon. But I turned around, regarding the dark wooden cluttered bureau. Above it was a long mirror. Like many of Max’s belongings, it looked as if it had spent its better days in a much larger, much grander house, and now sat here in this messy cottage looking somewhat ridiculous.

I saw a reflection of the room and the flickering light, of Max’s back as he nudged aside a curtain. Of course, I saw myself.

Yet… something was strange.

I couldn’t figure out what, at first. Then I realized: my reflection was doused in shadow, like I was silhouetted against the light.

But the bedroom was lit.

“Max,” I murmured. My grip tightened around Il’Sahaj’s hilt.

In the reflection, I watched him turn and stand behind me. And then I watched myself step forward, fingers pressed to the mirror, face still blurred in shadow.

Except I didn’t. I didn’t move.

“It’s—” I started.

It lunged.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. The creature was on top of me, intangible and yet so heavy I could not breathe. The face that stared back at me was nothingness, and then it was my own. I felt as if my mind was being rifled through, my memories picked apart like the bones of a carcass. The face became Serel’s. Max’s. My mother’s. Vos’s and his scarred, disfigured features.

I opened my mouth but could not speak. I felt as if everything was being drained from me. Like my life, my energy was being pulled away frominside.

I fought, trying to bury Il’Sahaj into its flesh, but my awareness was fading. Somewhere in the misty world beyond, Max was attacking it, too, trying desperately to yank it off of me. Its blood — if it was blood — rained down on me, burning and burning and burning.

Suddenly everything went blindingly bright.

The creature released me.

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