Page 21 of Xantera
The wailing cuts itself off so abruptly, it feels like whatever made that sound had its head chopped off.
But I know it didn’t. Because I still feel his presence.
Regardless of what he calls himself, he is what prowls beyond the Wall, waiting with snapping teeth and sharpened claws and—
I can retract the claws, and as for my teeth… trust me, little nightmare, I can do much better things with them than inflict pain.
An inhale snags in my lungs, and I clutch my throat. Guardians, I’m going to be sick.
Your precious Guardians can’t really help you in this situation, can they?he replies cheerfully.You’ve been fraternizing with me for a whole day now, which technically makes you a traitor.
My hands do something peculiar in response to those words. They curl into themselves, forming fists that I imagine pummeling into his face. Whatever his face evenlookslike.
You’re not just a Monster. You’re a… you’re a…
I search for a word, but nothing comes close to the insult I want to throw at him for tricking me like this, for luring me in with a pretty piece of jewelry and capturing my mind so thoroughly. I’d always thought of the Monster as something savage and beastly and inhuman, not… intelligent. Not cunning and manipulative, and there has to be a word for what I want to call him right now.
Asshole would probably fit, he muses.But I prefer my actual name, and I’d say you’ve earned it.
The Monster has a name. Aname?Impossible. I refuse to believe that’s truly who he is, that it has a mother whonamedhim.
But despite my disbelief, my question escapes as a whisper from its cage of frenzied thoughts.Which is?
Lucan,he says as if it’s an everyday greeting. Like he’s passing me on the main street on his way to his assigned job; as if it’s just one of those thousand ‘good mornings’ I’ve uttered in my lifetime.
Saskia,I think politely before I can stop myself. Because it’s ingrained in my psyche, like everything else, to echo a greeting no matter the circumstance.
Saskia,he repeats in a low rumble, rolling my name across his tongue, savoring every syllable. A dark pause hovers over us.It’s nice to meet you, Saskia.
Fear rushes back in like a burst dam. My heart thumps, and the vial laying across my sternum rises and falls rapidly with it.
Just as I wrap my palm around it, Lucan—no, theMonster—calmly chuckles out,Sweet dreams. You’ll be ba—before I rip the chain off my neck.
For good this time.
I’m on top of the Wall.
My feet are planted between two spikes that rise to my shoulders, and I grip their pointed ends as I brave the dizzying glance downward.
My stomach plummets. There are no fields of rainbows waiting for me on the other side. The ground is nothing but a hazy horizon below me, so far down and so slathered in mist that I can’t make out the details of what would await me if I jumped.
Wind whips at my hair, a storm churning around me as if to try to push me off the ledge. I smell blood and salt. Earth and pine. The sweet, cloying scent of rot and a whiff of what I can only describe as moonlight—something simultaneously rich and light. It’s calling me, those scents, but just as I lean forward to inhale more of it, the howling erupts around me.
It’s loud when I’m safely tucked away in my housing unit, but out here, on top of the Wall, that howl swells louder than the wind itself. It wraps around me, tugs on my wrists, plays with my hair like a living thing, like ropes trying to yank me away.
I’m afraid, but the reasons drop in my stomach like a stone.
I’m afraid I like it.
I’m afraid I want more.
Iwantto wake up, I realize. Or do I?
“You do not deserve this safe haven.”
I nearly lose my grip on the spikes as I shriek and whip my head around.
The Third Guardian is there, his head right near my ankles, his fingers gripping the edge of the Wall, as if he climbed it like a spider. His golden waves don’t seem to move in the wind. His blood-red eyes gleam hungrily up at me, but there’s murder in his expression. Not like he sees me as something to feast upon and cherish, but something to feast upon and then squash.
