Page 45 of Fires of the Forsaken
Belanna and Braxton didn’t just look identical; they shared the same power.
Cheriour frowned, tapping two mud-caked fingers against his beard. “She was sure it was Elion,” he said.
“Aye. So am I.”
“He knows we still have Speakers in the army.”
“Certainly seems that way.”
Cheriour sighed. “Alright, Braxton, can you help with…” he trailed off, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
Braxton slumped, but he nodded.
“You,” Cheriour said to me. “Come with me. We have to talk.”
14
Zombie Skin
Because he was Cheriour, we couldn't just find a quiet spot to chit-chat. Oh no.“We need to talk,” really meant:“first you're going to help me bandage some of the wounded and get them on horses. And I must work intotalsilence. I’m a man, after all, and can’t multitask for shit. When we’re done, it’s time to skedaddle. Once we’re on the road again,we’ll talk.”
Anyway, an hour (or two) later, after the army had cleared the thickest part of the forest, Cheriour finally spoke. “We're going to pass through a town called Lamex. It's the first town in Netheridge’s borders.”
There was a part of me—a tiny, but still hopeful part—that got a jolt of excitement. Atown. It would be the first sign of civilization I’d seen in a week.
“We believe it has been infected,” Cheriour said, derailing my train of thought.
“What?”
“We aren’t certain. But Elion has been killing birds.”
“Wait…infected? Elion? You can't drop these bombs and expect me to follow what you're saying. Use your words. Elaborate a little.”
“I will,” Cheriour’s lips jerked, “if you give me a moment.”
“Ah. Okay, sorry. You…” I sank my teeth into my lip.You talk too fucking slow!Those words had been on the tip of my tongue before I bit them back…literally.“I’m super impatient. Y’know?” I amended.
Cheriour gave me one of his vacant stares. “Several days ago,” he said, “one of Belanna’s birds saw Elion near Lamex. But the birds she’s sent to verify the sighting have failed to return.”
“And Elion is…?”
“A Celestial. Most call him the Plague Bringer.”
“Plague Bringer? Are we talking about abad head coldorThe Black Death?”
Cheriour dipped his chin to his chest. “His illness is cruel. The infected never survive.”
A cold, despairing feeling curdled in my gut.
“There is no cure,” he continued. “You must understand that.There is no cure.”
The darkness in my stomach deepened. Like a black hole had opened, swallowing me from the inside. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” he paused when his horse stumbled over a dip in the ground, “if what we fear is true—”
“Are we still going to Lamex?”
“Yes—”
