Page 22 of Brimstone
“We have their heads in a sack down by the river. They’re currently trying to chew their way out.” Lorreth looked weary to his very bones. He sank into a crouch, leaning his back against the wall; he held his head in his hands for a moment, his breath making rushing sounds as he inhaled and exhaled through hisfingers. He struggled to find the right words when he surfaced again. “What in all five hells was that? Centuries, we’ve been posted here. Only once before have they ever reached this side of the river. That wasn’t ideal, but at least we put them down quickly. Half the camp is in ruins right now, thanks to eight feeders.Eight.And we still haven’t officially managed to kill them.”
“I feel sick,” Ren said quietly. “In the pit of my stomach. I feel connected to them, like . . . the magic they took has tied me to them. I can feel them tugging on it, trying to siphon off more. Do you feel that way?” he asked me.
I hadn’t wanted to think about it, but yes. That was what it felt like. I nodded. “We need to figure out who was controlling them.”
“Do you thinkanyonewas?” Lorreth asked. “They seemed feral. Wild.” He shivered.
“At the end, maybe. But at the beginning . . .” The way they’d moved together, in unison, implied that they were under some sort of control. Even Malcolm hadn’t been able to work that kind of magic on his feeders, though. It would have required an exorbitant amount of power.
“You know who it was,” Ren said. “There’s only one person capable of something like this.”
I shook my head. “Tal hasn’t sired any feeders.”
“And you believe that simply because he told you so?” A sharpness rose in Ren’s voice.
“Why would he lie, Ren?” Gods, I was tired. My whole body felt like it had been chained to a horse and dragged three miles over rocky ground.
“Because that’s who he is. He’s a liar. He’s never been honest with us about anything. Foley’s where he is because of him. And he was there, the other night. With Everlayne. He had her on a fuckingleash, Fisher.”
“Malcolm commanded him to do that—”
“Why do you always defend him!” Ren brought his fist crashing down on the table. His shout echoed off the walls of the war room. His pallor had turned from ash to a furious red. “At every turn, you deny what’s staring you right in the face. He abandoned you. He left you over a thousand years ago. He willingly chose to leave us all and go with Malcolm. How do you think he is still walking the realm, hmm? The only way he is still here, proving to be a thorn in all our sides, is because he feeds from the living. He is everything we despise, and yet every time something like this happens, you make excuses for him.”
I let him pant away his fury. It wasn’t worth trying to speak until he burned through the anger gnawing at him. It struck me, as I watched him, his shoulders hitching up and down as he glared back at me, that the only time I had ever seen Renfis angry was because of Taladaius. In some ways, he was right about him. But in all the ways that really mattered, he was not.
“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I know that there can never be anything but bad blood between you and him. But you’ve never been bound by a curse, brother. You’ve never been forced to act against your will. And you have never been so in love with someone that you’d sell your soul to the devil to protect them. I pray that when you find your mate and you fall in love, you’ll know nothing but an everlasting peace with them. But for others . . .” I added sadly, “it isn’t that simple.”
Hours later, when Te Léna had returned to heal me and the sun had broken over the crest of the black horizon beyond Sanasroth, we ventured out to inspect the damage that had occurred in the night. The section of the camp closest to the river had been destroyed. Tents lay in ruin, fabric shredded, supplies strewn all over the churned-up ground. The dead lay along the bank of the river with Widow’s Bane blossoms resting over their closed eyes.
I was numb to the core. “How many did we lose?”
“A hundred and fourteen,” Lorreth answered.
The number didn’t make any sense. We’d never lost that many at Irrín. During open battle, yes, higher losses were to be expected. But not here at our outpost. And not toeightfeeders. “We’ll bury them back at Cahlish,” I muttered. “I’ll open a portal, and we’ll carry them through one at a time.”
My brothers said nothing. Frustration still radiated from Ren as we crossed the bank to the large oak tree, but he kept the peace. We would talk again, he and I, when tensions weren’t running so high. That was the way it had always been with us when we were at odds.
The oak tree had been there for as long as I could remember, tall and proud despite the cold. Now, its trunk was shriveled, its bark sloughing off in thick slabs. From its roots to the tips of its branches, it festered with slimy mushrooms. The charred, headless bodies of the feeders struggled against their ropes, trying to wrestle free, but thankfully their restraints held true.
“These fell things aren’t of Yvelia,” Lorreth said in a hushed tone. “Nothing inourworld could produce this kind of evil.”
But we had thought that once about the vampires. And power was an addictive drug. It never surprised me, the terrible things a corrupt soul would do to garner more of it.
5
DEADSTOCK
SAERIS
THE SACK HITthe floor with a thump.
The stench that wafted out of it made me want to gag.
“Smells like your old apartment above the Mirage,” Carrion offered in a chipper tone. He carved off a piece of the apple he was holding and ate it straight from the edge of his knife.
I scowled at him, tempted to take the bait. He wanted me to ask him how the hell he thought he knew what the attic space I’d shared with my younger brother above the Mirage had smelled like, but there wasn’t time to engage in petty sniping.
Kingfisher and Lorreth had returned, and they’d brought a bag of severed heads with them. It went without saying that thebag of headsshould have been my primary focus, but apparently I was a terrible person, because the only thing I cared about was him.Fisher.My mate was here, and it felt like I could finally breathe again.
