Page 265 of Eldritch
Kazhimyr growled and jumped to his feet, the abruptness of his movements drawing my attention back to them. He threw out his palm and nothing but a white blur whizzed toward the two guards approaching me. What looked to be snowflakes struck their throat and forehead, blood trickling where they’d hit and both collapsed to their knees. Their skin turned an unsightly shade of blue, as if freezing from the inside out and one after the other, they fell face first into the ground.
Kazhimyr hurled an oversized icicle with a pointed tip through the air toward Loyce. A short man, half the blonde’s height, stepped forward and threw out his palm. The icicle melted midflight and fell like rain to the ground. The strange man turned toward Kazhimyr, one eye covered in a peculiar purple eyepiece, while half his face was covered in what looked like melted silver. Kazhimyr threw forth his palm again, but before he could summon his next glyph, he let out an agonizing cry and crumpled to the ground, his body curled inward and twitching.
Frowning, I pushed to my feet, frantically searching for whatever unseen entity had attacked him. “Stop! Stop it!” A glance back at Dravien showed him locked in a rigid stance, his eyes screwed shut, as if he couldn’t bear to watch. Whatevercourage he’d mustered in the mortal lands must’ve remained trapped there. I swung my gaze back toward the small man. “Stop now or by the gods, I will send your limbs flying from your body!”
The blonde chuckled. “I’m dying to see that.”
With his palm still outstretched, the small man clenched his hand to a fist and smoke curled up from Kazhimyr’s wrists, leaving behind a skinny black band that looked like it’d been seared into his skin.
“Fuck!” Kazhimyr growled, shaking as he held his wrists close to his chest. “No!”
I summoned my bone whip and struck fast.
The guard beside the smaller man exploded around his armor on impact, the bits of meat and bone dropping in clumps onto the ground. The other guards backed themselves away with wide eyes, some cursing. Some laughing.
“Well, that was impressive,” the blonde said.
I drew back for another strike.
The smaller man extended his arm, and the bones snapped into his grasp, as he took hold of the other end.
Gasping, I nearly tumbled backward, but he gave a yank, pulling me closer and raised his palm. A deep, burning sensation slithered through my veins. I opened my mouth to call on Raivox but all that spilled out of me was a raspy scream. White smoke curled up from my wrists, just as it had Kazhimyr’s, leaving a delicate black script behind, like the flames seared into Zevander’s skin.
The pain quickly subsided, my chest expanding with a deep breath. I dropped to my knees and rolled to my side, coughing. A lingering burn marked the black bands that remained.
“Where is Rydainn?” the blonde asked, sauntering up toward Dravien, who hadn’t moved a muscle to help us.
“He’s gone.” Dravien didn’t bother to look at her, his face paler than before. “He fell into the chasm.”
Fell into the chasm. Gone.
It was wrong. It sounded so wrong when spoken aloud. He couldn’t have died. I refused to believe it.
Tears welled in my eyes and I shot forward on hands and knees, slamming my hands against the barrier.
“Seize them,” the woman ordered, her voice trembling as if she were affected by the news. “I have a special punishment in mind for the girl.”
Rough hands wrenched my arm, and I spun around, gripping the soldier’s hand with my blackened fingertips.
Only, he didn’t crumble to dust.
He chuckled and held fast, hauling me to my feet. “Those pretty fingertips are going to be the first to go.”
The blonde strode up to me, her hands behind her back. Gold flashed in my periphery right before knuckles struck my cheek with a bone-rattling crunch, jerking my head to the side on impact. Pain shot to my sinuses and a throbbing ache swelled in my jaw. Through the waver of tears in my eyes, I glimpsed the blood sprayed across the snow below me. “I don’t believe my pets have had mortal flesh before. I look forward to introducing you to them.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
ZEVANDER
Death would’ve been easier, Zevander was certain of it.
Every muscle in his body screamed in pain as he stared up at the edge of the cliff, the memory of her face clinging to his thoughts. He lay in the mouth of a black void, his life teetering on the edge of a jutting protrusion of rock. An unlikely twist of fate, as he listened to the hissing and screeching of spiders and the human-like creatures who spilled over, slipping past him in the dark as they plummeted. His legs dangled over the precipice, the width of the ledge only long enough to have captured his upper body. One wrong move and he’d slip to his death.
Another hiss of a spider whizzed past his ear, but he didn’t dare turn to see its demise. He was far too weak and battered. Instead, he turned his mind to Maevyth, recalled the relief he felt watching her return to Aethyria. As he’d clung to Dravien’s arm, he’d seen her face, heard her voice calling out for him. Felt her once more.
That was all he needed.
He’d never believed in the gods but as he lay there, bleeding and broken, he prayed that she’d find Dolion.
