“Get him to Asher or the Hall of Healing. I need him kept alive. I’ll speak to him later.”
Once the city was safe.
And—my gaze skimmed up into the orange sky and I froze.
The sun was setting and we hadn’t touched today. Once it hit the horizon…
I needed to find Kat.
52
Kat
I worked my way uphill, aiming for the palace. Bastian might not be there, but they had to know where he was. If he realised the time and came looking for me, it seemed the most likely place he’d start.
My calves burned as I pushed up and up, one eye on the road, one on the setting sun.
Questioning clicks echoed from a lane to my left, and I hurried the opposite way, taking a winding alley that cut through to another street. I hugged the walls, gripping my bow.
My touch hadn’t worked, so an arrow to the eye was my best hope. If I was lucky enough to get a clear shot on both, the monster would be blinded. Would that make a difference when they could sniff out magic? I tugged the cuffs of my gloves like they might stifle my scent.
The palace grew larger and larger, and my hope unfurled. Another ten minutes.
I turned a corner and stopped dead. A gasp caught in my throat.
Ahead, perhaps forty feet away, stood a Horror.
Maybe it hadn’t seen me.
Swallowing, I eased back a step.
The thing’s clicking increased as it rose, front legs coiling as if ready to grasp.
Oh, it had seen me.
It had definitely seen me.
I turned to run, but more clicks skittered off the walls of the alley behind me.
Shit.
Head low, the Horror that stood between me and the palace prowled closer, its eight legs moving with hypnotic slowness. It was like a sabrecat approaching its prey—slowly, slowly, then in an instant, it would explode into movement.
My stomach roiled.
No turning back.
But no going forward.
Closer, the Horror came, void-black eyes locked on me.
I nocked an arrow.
Pure desperation drove me. There was nothing else. Well, I could curl into a ball, I supposed, but… No. That wasn’t an option.
Maybe Bastian was right. Maybe I was brave. I certainly stood here facing a magical beast, lining up my shot.
That sounded brave.
Pulse pounding in my throat, face, temples, I exhaled and aligned my arrowhead with the creature’s eye.
I didn’t need to kill it. I just needed to buy myself enough time to get to the palace.
I loosed the bowstring.
The arrow flew.
And skimmed off the monster’s brow.
Fuck.
I’d rushed and missed in my fear. Under my gloves, the stains had to be covering my hands—a marker of my out of control emotions.
Another arrow. Deep breaths. Calm. Focus.
The orange sky turned the Horror’s carapace into a fiery rainbow. As if it understood what I meant to do, it hissed. Acid sizzled and pitted the stone paving.
If it could corrode granite, what would it have done to my skin if not for my…?
“Poison.”
Touching it hadn’t worked, perhaps because of the carapace, but…
I yanked up my sleeve. If I delivered my poison directly…
Twenty feet away now.
I still had time to run.
But I would have to run away from the palace. And then I’d be dead, anyway.
Desperation. Bravery. It didn’t matter what it was—I sliced the arrow across the back of my arm, gritting my teeth at the streak of pain. One eye on the Horror, I let the blood well and coated the arrowhead.
Fifteen feet.
There was no time to think.
Draw. Aim. Exhale. Fire.
Every part of me stiffened, trained on the arrow’s arcing flight.
Please. Please?
I didn’t see it strike, but I saw the Horror’s head snap back. Its shriek split my ears.
It stumbled, my arrow buried in its eye.
Had it worked?
Maybe more poison…
Another arrow. Quickly. Quickly.
I smeared it with blood as the Horror slowed and tossed its head side to side like it might be able to throw off the one already embedded in its eye. When that didn’t work, it lowered its head and roared.
Its acrid breath burned my eyes, the stench choking.
But I drew and lined up my shot, stilling every part of me save for my leaping pulse.
I fired.
Deep down its throat, past the rows of sharp teeth, my arrow buried itself inside the monster. Its roar cut out.
I already had another arrow out of my quiver and was coating it in blood, but…
The Horror gave a high-pitched wheeze, like it was trying to scream but couldn’t. It took a step closer, but its front legs crumpled, and the monster slumped.
Its remaining eye stared on and on.
Was it…?
I nocked my prepared arrow and edged closer, ready to fire again if it moved.
But it didn’t.
Dark blood oozed from its mouth and the eye I’d pierced, but it didn’t so much as blink.
I’d done it.
I’d killed a Horror.
Maybe there was something good to come from my magic.
I laughed and circled around the monster’s massive form so I could get to the palace and, hopefully, find Bastian. The sun had dipped below the buildings around me. It wouldn’t be long before the poison in my system would reset and start— Clicking.
Behind me.
I wasn’t even past the dead Horror, but the sound gripped my heart and it felt like I took an hour to turn and…
Another Horror. Charging. Screeching now it had lost the element of surprise.
I backed off. I just needed to run for the palace. I just needed to— Something snagged my heel and the world lurched.
Somehow, I caught myself on the dead Horror’s legs. Coppery blood flooded my mouth where I’d bitten my tongue.
And the charging Horror was almost here.
No time to run.
I drew, aimed, fired in a single breathless moment.
The shriek told me I hit, but I was already bloodying another arrow, gasping as tears stung the corners of my eyes. Tears weren’t useful, though, so I gritted my teeth and straightened, bowstring taut.
This Horror had to be tougher than the last, because it was still bearing down on me, sharp teeth bared. Fifteen feet away. Ten.
I fired.
A shriek that cut off as the monster’s neck arched.
It fell silent and I sagged with relief.
But its legs were still moving, even as its head slumped, like its body hadn’t quite caught up with the fact it was dead.
Five feet.
I ran.
Tripped.
Scrambled to my feet.
Then a terrible weight crashed into me.
My muscles jerked, burned, but… I couldn’t move. Cold stone pressed into my cheek, and something lay across my back. My bow sat several feet away, rocking on the ground.
When I looked over my shoulder, I understood.
The Horror lay across my back, pinning me to the ground.
And the sky deepened to twilight as a tingling began in my fingertips.
53
Bastian
Reports came in on our way south. Most of the Horrors were down, but my lookouts had lost sight of the two in the southern quarter after they’d stopped to help a family who’d become trapped.
Thankfully, I had Faolán and Rose. They picked up the foul stink of Horrors and followed the trail towards the palace. The closer we got, the harder my heart pounded. They couldn’t make it across the river. Couldn’t.