A Touch of Poison (Shadows of the Tenebris Court, #2)

A third of them dead. I nodded, but her report didn’t bring as much relief as it should’ve. “Any sign of the red-haired woman?”

“There was a sighting in the southern quarter, but they lost her before they could extract her.”

I gritted my teeth, eyeing the Horrors as they jostled over feeding from the brazier’s scant magic. We’d head south as soon as these two were taken care of. It sickened me not to go now, but…

Duty called.

I nodded to the lookout, dismissing her, and signalled for Faolán to continue advancing. Once we were thirty feet from the Horrors, I raised my hand and the archers fired their first volley.

A dozen arrows glanced off the monsters’ carapaces, but they were never meant to be anything more than a distraction.

While the Horrors looked up, screeching at the archers, we moved in.

Fed by the city’s abundant magic, my sword was at full power—a pure void with shadows dripping off its edges. I bared my teeth as I reached my enemy, the darkness inside me ready and eager to strike.

I sliced the monster’s leg. When I met its chitinous shell, there wasn’t even an instant of resistance. My Shadowblade cut clean through, and a buzz of magic funnelled into me, stolen from my shrieking enemy.

The long head swung to me, black eyes unblinking.

It snapped, row upon row of teeth closing on the space where a split-second earlier had been my shoulder.

I rolled across the paving, its stone surface digging into my shoulder and ribs.

Muscles roaring with the simple pleasure of battle, I landed on my feet behind the Horror. The remains of its severed leg bled foul ooze onto the ground, flailing as it reacted to another strike.

Growling, Fluffy bit one of the legs. Her teeth sank into the exoskeleton, her magical flame unleashing an acrid smoke that smelled of burning hair.

I battered into the monster’s back, the thicker shell resisting my blows, but making it twitch and start to turn—distracting it for the rest of my unit.

Russet fur darted between the other Horror’s legs—Rose. She snapped at its clawed feet, blinding fast in her wolf form, always staying inches ahead of its strikes.

One of the guards wasn’t so lucky. He flew back with a grunt, clubbed by one of the legs.

With the monster chasing Rose, Faolán leapt onto one of its legs. His fingers elongated into vicious claws.

I grinned as I blocked a strike, clipping the end of my Horror’s leg. I knew exactly where he was aiming.

Back arching, I dodged, then sidestepped, drawing my Horror away from its partner. If it spotted Faolán’s progress, leaping from one leg to the next, further forward, it might try to stop him.

Acid sizzled against my gauntlet as the monster snapped at my hand.

Two inches. That was all I dodged by.

But two inches or twenty—it was all the same. I still had my hand, and the Horror had its back to Faolán. With a roar, he reared and drove his claws into the spot behind his monster’s front leg.

Dark blood spurted.

The Horror shrieked, splitting the air and my ears. I staggered as the sound lanced through my skull, an instant of blinding pain.

I kept my sword high, but as the other Horror fell, mine lunged.

The world lurched as I fell back, driving the air from my lungs. I couldn’t do anything else but roll as my pulse roared, like it was a beast trying to scare off the Horror bellowing inches from my face.

Somehow I managed to jab as I rolled. Even more miraculous, I hit something, and the monster reared back with a scream, bleeding from a ruined eye.

But it kept fighting. My chance jab hadn’t gone deep enough to hit the brain.

Still. One leg missing. Blind on one side. It couldn’t last much longer.

I scrambled to my feet as a horn blasted through the air and hooves clattered across the paving.

Light filled the street as a golden stag galloped in.

Cyrus bared his teeth in a wicked grin and raised the Brightblade.

I didn’t have time to stand and stare—the Horror had realised I’d taken its eye and must’ve decided that made me the biggest danger, even as the full unit hacked at it.

Blow after blow I blocked, dodged, feinted to make the thing pull back an inch. I kept to its blind side, taking every opportunity to swipe at its face as it lunged for me, ignoring the acid burning through gaps in my armour.

“Don’t worry, Serpent.” Cyrus’s voice cut through the sound of my own pulse. “I’ve got this foul beast.”

A flash of light arced in from the right, and mid-lunge, the Horror crashed to one side.

There was no screech, no more blows, just the thing lying on its side, the Brightblade embedded in its eye.

Hands on my knees, I caught my breath, ears still ringing from the death cry of the first monster. With a couple of gestures, I had someone take the injured guard for healing. Getting tossed across the street like that, he’d have internal bleeding.

Meanwhile, Lysander arched an eyebrow as, looking like smugness incarnate, Cyrus dismounted and strode over.

Faolán appeared at my side, giving me a once-over. “We had it,” he grumbled as Cyrus drew his sword from the Horror’s head and raised it with a flourish.

The effect was slightly ruined when he turned and eyed Faolán’s claws, a sneer marring his victorious grin.

Cyrus was a prick. But I didn’t give a shit who killed the beast or got the glory. As long as these things were gone and the city safe, anyone could finish the damn things.

As he remounted, waved, and returned to his elite guard, someone tugged on my sleeve.

“Bastian?”

My eyes skipped over her at first, that wraith magic at work. But I knew Orpha’s voice, and I followed it, however much my gaze tried not to. Mouth pinched, she looked up at me.

“What are you doing here?” I’d sent her to catch up with the patrol who should’ve been guarding the edge of Horror territory.

“We found that patrol. They’re dead. Looks like Ascendants got them.”

What the fuck were they playing at, interfering with something that kept us all safe?

“On our way back, we found the Horrors. We’ve been trailing them the past day, trying to stop them or overtake them so you’d at least have a warning.” She shook her head.

We could’ve prepared. Stopped the festivities, ensured people were evacuated to safety.

“All the wardstones on this side of the territory had been removed. We replaced what we could, but…” Another shake of her head as her eyebrows clashed together.

I wiped off my sword. “Why do you think it’s Hydra Ascendant and not just an accident?”

“I caught one of them moving the wards to line the road. He’s here. Though not in the best shape.” She smiled, sharp teeth glinting as she nodded towards the city walls. “I tried asking him a few questions myself. Didn’t want to talk, though. I’m sure the Serpent can persuade him.”

An Ascendant. And she’d caught him interfering with the wards designed to keep the Horrors away from civilisation. Lining the road…

Funnelling them here.

My blood ran cold.

This was a deliberate attack, using Horrors as weapons, just like the Wars of Succession.

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