Page 45 of Promise of Darkness
Just in time.
Another bane stalks around the corner of the alley, snuffling the cobbles. It’s larger than the one Andraste killed, and moonlight shines off the enormous spiked collar around its throat. This one seems more lion than wolf, a snarling, monstrous creature that looks like a nightmare called directly to life.
Head down, it follows our trail toward the wall. I freeze, pressed flat to the roof.
Thiago stares intently into the alley, weaving his fingers in an intricate fashion. The bane’s head jerks up, and it stares into the distance, where shadows flicker over the walls like a pair of people running. In the heavy fog, it’s a deft enough illusion to seem lifelike.
Baying loudly, the bane sprints after them.
A dozen voices rise to join it, all of them heading in the same direction. They stream from everywhere, galloping along on all fours, some of them mere stirrings of fog and others flashes of fur and claws.
“Erlking’s hairy cock,” Thiago swears under his breath. “Whatever she’s doing here, she’s got the entire city locked down.”
“We’re not going to get near the Hallow.” That we’ve made it this far is a miracle. And now— “We’re not going to escape. Not now they’ve got our scent.”
“One problem at a time, Princess.” Thiago scrambles over the rooftop. “Keep moving.”
We circle closer to the Hallow, leaping across alleys and rolling along rooftops. If I couldn’t hear the ever-present howling of the banes as they come across various scent trails, I’d be almost enjoying the exhilaration of the moment.
It’s not until we get close to the center of the city though, that I realize what Thiago’s been doing all along.
“You’ve been leading us in circles,” I mutter.
Ever since we exited the catacombs.
He flashes a smile at me. “Scent trails overlap. My shadows have been hauling a shirt of mine all over the city too. Let them track us. There’s too many trails for them to follow.”
“Your shadows can do that?” Despite myself, I’m impressed.
He arches a brow in aPrincess-I-can-do-anythinglook.
Ignoring the howls, we inch closer until we’re finally crawling on our bellies across a roof. And what I see takes my breath away.
Mother of Cursed Night.
It’s not just a dozen banes. There are nearly fifty of them prowling the ruins. Teams of Unseelie yell and curse at each other, and a pair of huge, lumbering beasts strain against a harness. Canvas tents flap in the night, and a banner flies from the top of the biggest.
A soaring white wyvern, its teeth bared, against a black background.
Angharad.
I catch sight of a shock of white, and realize Isem, her pet sorcerer, is also there. Things just became dire.
“What are they looking for?” I breathe the words into the night.
Thiago’s face hardens, his eyes searching the ruins. “They’re not looking for anything. They’ve already found it.Look.”
Ahead of us, several workmen direct a taskforce. One of them cracks a whip, and the team of creatures harnessed to the crane strained forward. Enormous muscles flex in their backs, and I catch a glimpse of the elegant gold tattoos concealed beneath scabbed-over cuts and whip marks. Goblins, by the look of them.
The pulley systems jerk, and one of the enormous lintel stones around the Hallow slowly jacks upright. It joins three others, though the rest of them lie fallen around the top of the hill.
“They’re trying to recreate the Hallow,” I say breathlessly. “But… why?”
The circles were created to trap the Old Ones and cast them into a prison realm outside of time.
It was only by pure chance that the Seelie realized such portals could also be used to seek passage between kingdoms, Hallow to Hallow.
When Mistmere fell, its Hallow died. Why would Angharad be going to so much effort to create a portal here?
