Page 27 of Stitches
“I can catch it!” she called back, not bothering to look behind her.
Had she not seen her crystal’s glow? But then, Ashmedai could no longer see it flickering, which didn’t make any sense when Pentelyn hadn’t altered course.
Then Ashmedai saw why—her crystal was on the ground, flickering against the trunk of a tree. She’d dropped it and didn’t realize!
“Pentelyn!” Ashmedai cried louder than Amuro, but she didn’t seem to hear him.
She was flying faster, aiming to get ahead of the jackalope. Ashmedai could see some of the crystal perimeter on either side of her, but too far away for her to notice. In front of her was nothing, or the remaining crystals must have all worn out, which meant there would be no way to know when she came upon the barrier, until….
Ashmedai didn’t think; he simply dove into the nearest shadows, having only guesswork to guide where he might pop up that would befar enough in front of Pentelyn despite her momentum, yet not across the barrier whereAshwould become little more than his namesake.
As the darkness that enveloped him returned to the sight of the wood, Ashmedai spotted Pentelyn coming right at him, just as the jackalope darted past his feet.
“Stop!” he commanded her, and the harpy jerked backward so suddenly she nearly fell out of the sky. Ashmedai spun, and it was only an arm’s length behind him that the jackalope leapt—and never landed.
It disintegrated into particles of dust.
Before Ashmedai could turn around, he heard a thud, unsurprised to find that Pentelyn had landed, panting and staring in horror at how close she had come to disappearing.
Ashmedai sheathed his sword and pulled a brightly glowing crystal from his belt to drop behind him. He immediately returned his gaze to Pentelyn, hoping to soothe—
“Gazellians!”
He and Pentelyn’s attentions both shot back toward the rest of the hunters. Gazellians were an edible and highly desired game, but they were also some of the most dangerous animals that inhabited the Dark Kingdom, no longer mere gazelles but bearing the hunger, fangs, and temperament of rabid wolves.
A dozen could be seen, heading parallel along the barrier from the opposite direction Ashmedai and the hunters had come from, meaning they were stampeding right for them.
The hunters dispersed like falling drops of water, giving as wide a berth as they could, with magic and weapons ready to defend, not attack, for a stray arrow now might draw the whole pack to devour whoever fired.
Which was when Levi’s hesitation returned at the worst time, for he stood frozen, still too much in the pack’s path, and one of the gazellians veered toward him with a snap of its jaws.
Ashmedai had as much time as he’d had to save Pentelyn, maybe less, so once again, he didn’t think. He dove into the shadows, appearing out of Levi’s own shadow in front of him, and stopped the gazellian with the only recourse he had left.
Arching his arms upward to summon every immediate shadow to him, Ashmedai became the very darkness itself and swooped forward onto the charging gazellian like a black wave. He never had and never would explain to any of his people what it felt like when he did that—not even to Braxton—because it was nourishment, like devouring something using bare hands and teeth. Because it tasted and felt incredible.
Because he hated how much he enjoyed it and longed for more the moment he reformed into his humanoid self on the other side, leaving behind an empty husk like the gazellian had been dead and decaying for weeks.
There was good reason Ashmedai preferred to use his sword.
The one consolation was when Ashmedai glanced behind him and didn’t think Levi looked afraid or disgusted, even though Levi had never witnessed that part of Ashmedai’s power before. Levi’s expression was utter awe.
A few of the fleeing gazellians fell behind after being startled by Ashmedai’s attack, and Yentriss struck them down with arrows without alerting those that continued onward. The hunters had many prizes in exchange for their close calls, though Ashmedai would never say it was worth it.
Once the dust settled and the hunters gathered closer to one another, the others noticed Pentelyn returning from where a brightly lit crystal still glowed on the ground, her own that she’d dropped blinking against a tree until she retrieved it. Amuro raced to her side, and it was clear in moments that everyone knew what might have been.
It was understandable to be shaken, but Ashmedai had never seenPentelyn look quite so distressed, near tears as Amuro, her husband, gathered her close. She was usually as calm and seasoned a warrior as Yentriss.
“You’re positively pallid,” Ashmedai said, going to her swiftly. “You’re all right, aren’t you? No harm done, save a scare? You’ve had close calls before.”
There was something Pentelyn didn’t want to tell Ashmedai. He could see it in the way she avoided looking at him with any of her many eyes, though he’d known her since near the beginning, when she had been the first cursed-born child.
Amuro was the one who answered, gently holding her to his side. “Penny’s pregnant,” he said, drifting one of his lizard hands low over her stomach. “We’re so sorry, Ash. We didn’t want to say anything when there were already so many—”
“Amuro,” Pentelyn hushed him.
“So many what?” Ashmedai pressed, but the pair looked at each other and kept quiet.
Ashmedai’s people never kept things from him. Or at least, he had never known them to before. The recent years had been harder on everyone, and as Ashmedai had said to Levi, he had been far too much a hermit lately, other than to attend to obligations he couldn’t ignore.
