Page 2 of Scorched Earth

He’d found unexpected allies in Agrippa, the defected general of Rufina’s armies, and Baird, a giant marked by Gespurn, but while they might have succeeded in their mad scheme to get the Queen of Mudamora out of Helatha, the half of Rufina’s army not pursuing Killian would be on their heels. Agrippa was resourceful, but there was only so much one man could do against all the tools Rufina had at her disposal.

It is what it is,he told himself.There is nothing you can do to help them right now. Focus on staying alive.

Yet he felt paralyzed with indecision, the weight of Lydia’s gaze making him want to scream. Making him want to lash out, because where were the Six? Why had they abandoned their marked so easily? Not just the marked, but the whole of Mudamora.

A shriek sounded overhead, and Lydia stiffened. Killian threw himself on top of her, pressing his gloved hand against her mouth to silence the scream that would summon the deimos patrolling the skies.

Because in denying Lydia the chance to steal life to ease the hunger burning inside of her, Killian had become her enemy. And the enemy of her enemy was her friend.

Her body jerked back and forth beneath him, and Killian prayed the cloth he’d wrapped around her hands stayed in place.

She’d gotten her hands on him once. Had stolen life from him in the few seconds before he wrenched away, and the memory of the sensation made his skin crawl.

“Shhh,” he whispered even as he felt her face press against him, trying to bite him around the gag. “They’ll move on soon enough.”

She only struggled harder. Made desperate mewling sounds.

“Stop.” He pressed his face into her matted hair. “I need you to fight this. Need you to come back to me.”

As the thud of the deimos’s wings faded, he let go of her. Lydia’s voice was garbled but clear enough for him to understand as she said, “I hate you.”

It wasn’t the first time she’d said it, but each time was a twist of the knife embedded in his gut. It was the hunger that drove the words, not her heart, but if she didn’t master the darkness in her, how long would it be until the hunger consumed her entirely? Killian didn’t acknowledge the vitriol, only retrieved the floating paddle and carried on deeper into the forest.

The trees grew denser, although equally dead and rotten, forcing him to backtrack and find different routes inland. Making him question whether there was a route to solid ground or whether he’d be forced to head back to the lake with the dawn. Or worse, get stuck and be forced to wade through the fouled water containing who knew what sort of creatures.

Though none more dangerous than the one he’d have to carry in his arms.

“Shit,” he growled. “Shit, shit!”

Lydia only chuckled around her gag, the sound making his stomach turn. Killian opened his mouth to tell her to be quiet when a light ahead caught his eye.

Not the eerie green glow of more fungus, but the yellow flicker of lamplight.

How had Rufina’s men found them? How had they moved so quickly?

Then a voice reached his ears.

Not the sharp bark of hunting soldiers, but the soft, wordless song of a woman.

Killian hesitated a heartbeat, then paddled closer, a large hillock appearing through the trees. There was a small cabin atop it, the glowing windows flung open so that the occupant’s song could spill forth.

Lydia tensed, seeming to dislike the voice. Yet there was something about it that drew Killian nearer. Jumping out, he hauled the small vessel out of the water and then hesitated. He didn’t want to face the unknown with her trussed over his shoulder, but neither did he trust that she wouldn’t find some way to escape in his absence.

Cursing under his breath, Killian checked that the fabric he’d wrapped around her hands was secure. Then he lifted Lydia into his arms, gritting his teeth as she thrashed. “Be still.”

He ignored her scowl as he carried her up the spongy slope to thecabin. The smell of woodsmoke overpowered the sulfur of the dead forest, and the grass beneath his feet was lush and alive. An island of life in a swamp of death. Killian fought the urge to walk faster.

The cabin was small and made of roughly hewn logs, but lace-trimmed pink curtains hung in the window, and the voice… Something about it soothed his battered soul. Flipping Lydia over his shoulder, Killian reached out to knock on the door, only for it to open, revealing an old woman with a long grey braid over one shoulder. The weight of her presence was something he’d only felt once before in his life, when he’d received his mark as a child.

Killian fought the urge to fall to his knees.

The stooped old woman smiled at him. “Come inside, dear ones. I’ve been waiting for you.”

2TERIANA

“Where is Marcus?”

All three men stared at her. Well, two men plus a boy, because for all Austornic was legatus of the Fifty-First legion, he was thirteen years old. That he was skinny as a rake and his forehead only came up to Teriana’s chin didn’t help his cause when it came to treating him seriously.