Page 32 of Fires of the Forsaken
“Well, that’snotconfusing. At all.” I needed some Ibuprofen. At this rate, I’d need the whole freaking bottle to calm my raging headache. “Okay, so if Ramiel beats Ramiel—er, that’s not right. Their names arewaytoo similar. If he beatsRaphael, what happens?”
“All of humanity will experience a fate similar to this.” Cheriour gestured to his army. “Or worse. The life you knew before coming here, your home, will cease to exist.”
I swallowed, picturing a Celestial—although what did they even look like? Fat little angelic cherubs? Big monsters like the Witch-King of Angmar?
I envisioned the Witch-King (with wings) smashing into cars, destroying our tallest buildings, gnawing, breaking, hacking, burning…
Okay, I’d officially seenThe Lord of the Ringstoo many times.
My stomach soured.
Was a scenario like that even possible? Couldn’t be. That stuff only happened in movies. Right?
Then again, traveling to a different world (or timeline, or wherever the heck I was) shouldn’t have been possible either.
“So,” I cleared my throat when my voice cracked, “you guys—the humans. And hybrids, I guess. You’re fighting—”
“To live,” Cheriour said. “Nothing more.”
“But if you win the war—”
“We can’t.” Cheriour’s posture changed, going ramrod straight. “Only Raphael and his army can claim that victory. We can win battles. If we do, we’re granted another day to live. If we lose, we die.”
My stomach did a nervous twist. “So why am I here?” Because this was the important question, wasn’t it? Definitely the most selfish one. But it had been churning in my head since I woke up in that field.
Why was I here?
Cheriour shifted in the saddle and stared at me, his eyes cool, even as his jaw tightened. “You are…” he started, but then he stopped. Took a deep breath. “You—” he paused, his brow crumpling. “I’m not certain. But I suppose you’re here to die. Along with the rest of us.”
11
Stalked by A Goddamn Horse
After dropping that massive bomb (“I suppose you’re here to die.”Seriously???) Cheriour exited stage right. “I need to speak with Belanna,” he said, cutting off the slew of questions ready to erupt from my mouth.
He cantered to the front of the group, leaving me alone while my head reeled.
I tightened my fingers around Sacrifice’s mane, glancing at the now-dark sky. What I wouldn't give to see a plane. Or a satellite. Something normal. Rational. Something that gave me hope.
There were just the stars. And the waning moon. Which lookedexactlythe same as back home. Just brighter, without the city lights and pollution stealing their thunder.
What a freaking disappointment. The least this crappy world could’ve done was give me something fun to look at. Like a neon green moon, or a row of alien planets peeking out from behind the stars.
“Whoa!” I yelled when mynoble steedslammed on the brakes, flinging me onto her neck. “What—oh, shit, are we stopping?”
There was a wall of halted horses and riders in front of us.
“Thank God,” I mumbled. My ass had taken a beating today.
Belanna’s booming voice drifted back from the front of the group: “We’ll stop here. Four hours only.”
Four hours? That was it? Well, I wasn’t gonna waste any of those precious two hundred and forty minutes by staying in the saddle.
I swung my leg over but my muscles were rubbery and sore, and it was a long drop. My feet smashed to the ground, my knees buckled, and I landed on my butt with a pained“ooof.”
A few soldiers chuckled. Not a cruel “haha you suck” kind of laugh. They seemed genuinely amused. Perhaps a little sympathetic. In response, I grinned and pushed myself back to my feet, brushing mud and dead leaves off my ass. “Oops. And I haven’t even started drinking!”
That got a few more laughs.
