Page 41

There was no ground beneath her, no sky above. Only the void.

Then—a touch.

A brush of warmth against her consciousness.

She felt it, somewhere in the black—something solid. Somethingreal.

Something to follow.

Skye turned her over, his eyes scanning her pale face. Her lips were blue, her breathing too shallow. But she was alive.

Relief hit him so hard his vision blurred. “Hey,” he tried again, shaking her gently. Taly groaned, stirring.

“We’re too open here!” Kato’s voice carried over the hack and slash of metal against flesh, Calcifer’s guttural roars drowning out the wails of the dead.

Shadows spilled from the trees. The undead poured in.

“Taly, wake up,” Skye said more urgently.

“Just bring her!” At the edge of the clearing, Kato motioned frantically.

Calcifer’s serpent tail lashed out, slamming through the front line and buying them a breath of space.

“Skye, come on!”

“I know you have this weird thing about being carried,” Skye said to her, “but this is an emergency.”

Then he scooped her up, blankets and all, and prayed that when she woke, she didn’t kill him.

He took off after his brother, sprinting through the trees.

The towering forest blurred into streaks of black and gray amid the darkness. Eyes glowed from the underbrush. Animals scattered. Moonlight filtered through the canopy, a dozen tiny spotlights illuminating the way.

Taly clung to him tighter. Awake? Or just instinct, shielding herself from the wind? He didn’t know.

A shriek rang out behind them. Then others rose in chorus.

“Sounds like somebody’s angry!” Kato yelled, grinning. His long strides carried him through the forest, making it look like he was soaring.

Whoops and wails chased them. Like animals screaming in pain, hundreds of them.

Then they were at the river.

Skye burst from the tree line onto the road, Taly in his arms. Kato and Calcifer kept pace beside them.

Three rivers flowed downward from the mountains, running parallel until they eventually converged into the Arda. This was the widest crossing. A long bridge carved across the landscape, its stone spine stretching over the frothing rapids. The storm-swollen currents churned, violent and deafening.

The bridge creaked underfoot, wide enough for two carts to pass. Almost two miles long, it took minutes to clear.

When their boots transitioned from wooden planks to damp, broken cobbles, Kato slowed, dropping the packs—what little he’d been able to grab. His ragged breathing smoked in front of him. “We can’t keep running like this.”

“It’s not like we have a lot of options,” Skye shot back. The screams were still following them, echoing over the water. “Come on.”

But Kato jerked his chin. “The bridge. What if we take it down? You think shades can swim?”

Skye looked out over the miles-long construction of stone and timber. They could knock away the support beams. It might be enough to collapse the middle, but… “It’s impossible.”

They’d never get it done in time.