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Story: Blood Rains Down

“Well, if that is any indicator of how the rest of this trip will go, I think it is safe to say we will be dead by morning,” Dukovich said, smirking to himself as he dusted off his leathers.

Rolling my eyes at his brazenness, I looked to Wren, scanning him for injuries. Other than some small scrapes and bruises, there were none—they were fine. He gave me a small smile, a reassurance that he was unharmed and I let out a sharp breath in an effort to shake the adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

“We need to set up camp. We do not want to be out in the open when night falls. These mountains come alive in the dark,”Dukovich said as he adjusted the sword across his back and stalked toward a narrow trail at the far side of the landing. “The passage where they rest is a few hours hike from here and we will need our strength.”

“What about the glamour?” I snapped at his back. “Why did you remove it from us?”

Dukovich turned to look at me, confusion twisted onto his face. “Weareglamoured, we have been since we stepped foot into The Silliands.”

“Then how did they find us? How could they see us?” I challenged. Dukovich’s eyes flickered to Wren and Landers before falling back to me.

“How couldwhosee us, Cin?” Wren interjected, the question riddled with uncertainty.

Shit, I silently cursed myself.

I was not good at this, not good at keeping secrets. Of course Saniel could see through the glamour, he was a messenger of the Gods. To think that a glamour would hinder his vision was foolish.

We stood there staring at each other, my mind turning frantically to come up with something, anything, to say.

“The mountain was only crumbling where we stood, where you climbed . . . I-I just figured that meant that someone had seen us,” I stuttered, fidgeting with the sleeve of my leathers. Wren looked back at me skeptically and I refused to meet Landers’s gaze.

He would know I was lying.

“The very root of The Silliands magic is chaos. The Blackridge Mountains were birthed from the belly of that power. They do not want us here and that rockslide was their way of telling us,” Dukovich said, his voice a low rumble as he pointed toward the cliff’s edge at our backs.

His answer made sense and though this time it was not the case, it was probably the same reason Saniel had chosen to use the mountain to his advantage.

I nodded, not trusting myself to say another word.

Ihadn’trealizedjusthow much of my energy I’d used on my magic until we hiked the last few miles through the mountains. I could barely keep myself upright, barely stand when we finally made it to a cave at the base of another peak. My knees buckled from under me and Landers caught me by the waist, sweeping my body into his arms before it could collide with the rocky ground. Worry etched itself into the creases of his face as he watched me rest my head against his shoulder.

I still needed so much training—still needed to learn how to balance my energy when wielding so it wouldn’t drain me like this. A trickle of panic dripped into my chest at the thought. We were running out of time and I wouldn’t have the luxury of rest every time I used my magic in the middle of a war. My chest began to tighten as Landers carried me the rest of the way into the cavern.

A stench hit my nose and I gagged against the bile that it sent racing up my throat.

Something had died here.

Wren buckled over, dry heaving beside us as Dukovich waved a hand in front of his face like it could clear the rank air from his senses.

“What the hell is that smell?” Wren coughed out, cursing at the spoiled air.

A light flared to life in the palm of Landers’s hand, casting shadows against our faces and every crack and crevice in the cave. His grip on my body tightened, his fingers digging into my skin as his eyes focused on something at the back of the opening. I followed his line of sight and jolted from his arms, my hand colliding over my mouth to trap the scream hurtling itself up my lungs as he pulled my back against my chest.

Landers’s lips caressed the tip of my ear, his hot breath trickling down my neck intertwining with the fear already scurrying up my spine. “Do not scream.”

Chapter twenty-five

HYACINTH

Myheartfoughttobreak free from my chest as my eyes locked on a monstrous creature crouched over an animal carcass only yards from where we stood. The light in Landers’s palm extinguished as the sound of Dukovich’s blade sliding from its scabbard filled my ears. Landers began walking us backward, each step slow and cautious as his arm held firm around my waist.

A low growl echoed through the corridor as the creature’s head lifted from its prey and turned to face us. Sunken, milky eyes stared lifelessly at us as its twisted mouth, lined with jagged teeth, hung open in a silent scream.

We stilled, and I watched in horror as the thing rose to its full height. Its skeletal frame was wrapped in ragged, sinewy flesh, decomposing yet clinging to its bones with a sickening tenacity. The skin that sagged from its body was mottled with hues of sickly green and ashen gray, ruptured by patches of raw, putrid flesh that oozed a black, thick fluid-like tar. It shambled towardus and Landers’s grasp on me tightened as his back hit the cave wall.

It can’t see us, I chanted over and over in my head as it approached at a glacial pace. The only light came from the cave’s opening and I prayed it would follow it out.

My eyes connected with Wren’s from across the opening, his back plastered to the wall opposite us as his fist tightened on the pommel of his sword. I could see the twitch in his face as he held back the gag caught in his throat from the air wafting off the creature.

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