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Something hovered in the skies above the village. Something massive and terrible, blotting out the suns. A reptile of legend,

a great dragon, the size of a sand strider and a hundred times more intimidating, peered down with eyes that blazed a sickly

green. Its body was rotted and falling apart, pieces of rancid flesh clinging to exposed bone, more skeleton than beast. Its

great tattered wings beat the air, part of a nightmare come to life, seemingly defying the laws of gravity as it hovered over

us.

Fear clutched my heart with icy fingers, and wind shrieked in my ears. I looked around and saw that the entire village was

surrounded in a familiar, choking sandstorm. The winds swirled madly, cutting off all escape, trapping us in the center.

“Give me the Fateless .”

I cringed. The voice was Vahn’s, multiplied a hundredfold, but it sounded as if the abomination itself was speaking. I looked

up to the top of the reptile’s bony skull and saw what I’d feared. A figure in familiar robes, a blackened staff clutched

in one hand. Somehow, I knew he was staring at me.

“Vahn,” I whispered.

“ The Deathless King has returned ,” the voice went on, booming over the sands.

“ Gaze upon his infinite power. He has brought the ancient giants back to life, he will remake the world to his liking, and all kingdoms will bow before his might. Give us the Fateless and be spared his wrath when he comes to claim your loyalty. ”

War Chief Vorkyth strode forward, the light gleaming off his armor as he glared defiantly at the huge abomination. For a moment,

I wondered if he was going to agree, hand me over to Vahn and be done with the hassle I represented once and for all.

“The Scarab Clan stands defiant!” Vorkyth shouted, though his voice was muffled by the wind and sand. “We will not bend a

knee to any king ever again! If the Deathless King comes for our loyalty, he will find an army waiting for him instead.”

“ Fools. ” The giant abomination raised its head, eyes blazing. On its skull, Vahn lifted his staff and swept it forward. “ Then I will take the Fateless by force. And you will regret your defiance. When this day is done, nothing will remain of your clan but bones and dust.

Your memory will be scattered to the winds, and no one will remember you existed. ”

A terrified scream rose into the air, sending my insides into a wild twirl. At the edge of the village, figures hurled themselves

out of the sands and into the camp. Only a few at first, then dozens. Withered, rotting corpses with the heads of slavering

jackals, they bounded into the village, tearing into everything with fangs and swords and ripping claws, and the camp erupted

into chaos.

War Chief Vorkyth gave a shout of rage and turned, his eyes wide and furious, toward the hive mother.

The hive mother gave a sharp nod. “Go, Vorkyth,” she said. “Do not worry about us. Protect the people.”

The war chief nodded and spun back, his face tight.

“Guard the hive mother, warrior!” he snapped at Kysa, and shot a glare at the rest of us.

“Outsiders, if you wish to fight, you will have earned my respect; otherwise, stay out of the way. I must rally the warriors and drive the abominations back. Fight well!”

He sprinted to an enormous beetle tethered outside the gate and leaped onto its back with a shout. The beetle instantly rose

into the air, joining the handful of warriors already in flight, the drone of their wings blending into the cacophony of wind,

screams, and howling undead. Beetles and riders descended upon the rampaging horde, and pandemonium erupted through the village.

Kysa blew out a piercing whistle that made me jump, and a heartbeat later, Rhyne lumbered to her side, snorting and tossing

his head as if he knew battle was nigh. Swinging astride the rock beetle, she raised her spear, her eyes on the approaching

chaos. “Stay together,” she called, as Rhyne moved his huge body in front of the gates, huffing and raking the air with his

horn. “Don’t let the creatures get past us to the hut.”

“Sparrow.” Raithe hesitated, seeming torn between joining Kysa and staying with me. His gaze flicked from the gate to the

interior of the warrior hut and the two women standing in the doorway. “Stay with the hive mother and the lore keeper,” he

told me. “We’ll protect you both.”

My heart pounded. I remembered the group of warrior children, who would probably be standing at the ready, spears raised to

take on the monsters. My hands shook, but I reached down and drew both daggers, gripping them tightly as I pulled them free.

“No,” I said. “I’m not running this time.”

Halek grinned fiercely. “Our Fateless stands her ground,” he said, tossing one of his strange black spheres in one hand. “Let’s see if we can cheat destiny one more time.”

With his empty hand, Raithe reached out and cupped the back of my head. “Stay close, then,” he murmured, the look on his face

making my heart stutter. “We’re almost to Irrikah. I can’t lose you to the Deathless King now.”

With ringing snarls, a horde of creatures spilled into the center of the village, leaping at us with swords and talons and

gaping jaws. Rhyne let out a trumpeting bugle as he lunged to meet them, sending several flying with one sweep of his massive

horn. Atop his back, Kysa twirled her spear, stabbing the monsters that clawed at her before Rhyne spun and knocked them aside.

We rushed to help as a trio of snarling undead came at us, reeking of dust and rotten flesh. Halek hurled his black ball into

their midst, and it exploded in a cloud of fire and smoke. Shrieking, two reeled away, flames crackling over their withered

flesh, but the third sprang at him with a howl. I lunged to meet it, remembering all my knife lessons with Vahn and what he’d

said about fighting.

Brawling is for toughs and fools. But if you must fight, don’t waste time with superficial cuts. Strike fast, strike hard,

and aim for the vitals: throat, heart, kidneys, the arteries in their legs. If you can’t kill them quickly, blind them, hamstring

them, cripple them. They can’t fight if they can’t see or stand.

The blade of my dagger hit the side of the creature’s neck, ripping a deep gash through the throat and out the other side. It pitched forward with a strangled snarl and collapsed, its head nearly severed, black tongue lolling between its jaws. My stomach heaved, and I backed away.

“Oh, nice shot, Sparrow!” Halek crowed, leaping up and flinging another sphere into a group of undead harassing Rhyne. The

explosion caused several of them to stagger back, withered flesh burning, before Rhyne swept them aside like empty bottles.

Halek grinned fiercely and turned to me. “I always thought you could fight better than you claimed,” he said. “Someone’s been

holding out on us.”

“Halek, behind you,” Raithe snapped, cutting through the arm of a monster slashing at him. Halek spun as an undead leaped

at him, fangs bared, and threw another sphere into its gaping jaws. There was a flash of flame and heat, and the creature

reeled back with half its face blackened and missing. Halek winced as he took a few steps back. “Right, I should probably

focus on the battle. I am fast running out of fire globes, though.”

More undead bounded forward, swarming the gate. Kysa and Rhyne stood in front of the entrance, taking the brunt of the attacks.

Halek hurled his fire spheres into the mob, to devastating effect, while Raithe and I picked off the creatures that got too

close to the gate. I leaped back as the blade of a rusty sword swiped at my head, then darted forward and stabbed the creature

below its jaw. It gave a garbled snarl and lunged, snapping at my face, only to meet Raithe’s weapon cutting across its muzzle

and splitting it in half. I ducked beneath Raithe’s arm and stabbed a creature leaping at his back, driving my blade through

its chest. It lurched back with a dying howl and Raithe spun, cutting off its head.

Panting, I looked around as the monster’s headless body shuddered and collapsed.

The warriors of the Scarab Clan were fighting the horde, riders and individual soldiers locked in battle with Vahn’s undead army.

The jackal monsters were vicious and brutal, but the warriors seemed to be holding their own.

Bodies lay scattered throughout the camp, the smell of rot and blood lacing the air, but there seemed to be more undead than Scarab warriors.

War Chief Vorkyth’s rock beetle flew through the air, plowing into a group of undead tearing apart a hut, and a ragged cheer went up from the rest of the clan.

And then, a cold chill crept up my spine. I looked up at Vahn, standing tall atop his undead abomination. He raised an arm,

and I thought I could see something red and lumpy clutched in his hand, before he crushed whatever it was in his fist. Red

streamed between his fingers and down his arm, and wisps of green energy rose around him. His lips moved, chanting words I

couldn’t hear, and I felt the hairs on neck my rise.

A few paces away, the jackal creature Raithe and I had killed twitched, stirred, and climbed back to its feet.

Horror filled me. I looked around and saw all the bodies of the undead rising across the field. Headless, armless, covered

in horrific wounds, they still clawed themselves upright and lurched toward the nearest living creature. Their eyes now burned

with soulless green fire, bathing everything in a sickly glow. With vicious howls, they threw themselves at the clan with

wild abandon, their hate-filled snarls rising into the air.