Page 23 of Scorched Earth

Killian disappeared between their horses, and Lydia squeezed her eyes shut to control the swell of tears. There hadalwaysbeen tension between them, from almost the moment they’d met, but it was twisted now. Corrupted, Lydia supposed was the right word, for how else did one describe a situation where you both loved a person and wanted to kill them? A relationship in which all you wanted in the world was to fling yourself into the person’s arms but knew you couldn’t because instead of kissing them, you’d steal years of their life from them?

“I hate this,” she whispered in Cel because she needed to say it, needed to unleash her frustration lest it overwhelm her self-control. “It’s not fair.”

“Did you say something?”

“I said I’ll be right back.” Lydia walked into the trees and descended into a ditch to relieve herself, only to draw up short at the sight that greeted her. Taking a few steps farther, she paused and said, “Killian, you need to see this.”

He approached, although she didn’t fail to notice the healthy distance he kept between them. He blew out a breath of air between his teeth at the sight. “It seems Hegeria put us on the right track.”

At the bottom of the hill were five bodies wearing Derin armyuniforms, as well as one in the black leathers of a corrupted—less its head. Bushes with lush white flowers had grown in a thicket, partially obscuring them from sight. At least from any who might fly overhead. The bushes were nothing special, except for the fact they were the only plants in sight that were in bloom. The work of a tender, sure and true.

Killian hurried down the slope, Lydia following with more reluctance, for flies buzzed around the pools of congealed blood. “Look.” He pointed to a body where the head was entirely caved in. “No human has the strength to do this in one blow. There’s no doubt that a giant made this kill. And here.” He extricated the corrupted from the bushes. “You can see how the opponent went for the spine to immobilize her, then reversed to take off the head before she had time to heal the injury. That takes skill, which suggests Agrippa. Given it’s winter and these bushes are the only things in bloom, I’d say they still have Malahi with them.”

Killian’s excitement faded as swiftly as it manifested, and he abruptly kicked at a rock. “We spent the night with these corpses right next to us when we could have been in pursuit. We should have caught them by now.”

“At least we know we’re on the right track.”

“Every moment we spend searching for Malahi is a moment we could be spending getting back to Mudamora, Lydia. You can bet the blight is spreading, never mind the army Rufina is obviously creating for another invasion. We have no time.”

As if she didn’t know that. “Can you track them?”

“Maybe. Get the horses.”

Lydia clambered back up the slope, shoving the rest of the gear they’d accumulated into the saddlebags. Both horses pinned their ears at her approach. Lydia could hardly blame them, but her anxiety rose as Killian called for her to hurry up. “Easy, easy,” she mumbled to the animals as she put on their saddles and bridles, both showing the whites of their eyes as they tried to pull away. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Lydia! Let’s go!”

Her skin flushed with frustration, and with a jerk, she hauled both animals in the direction Killian had gone.

“They only have one horse,” he muttered, eyes on the tracks. “We should be able to outpace them. Just hope that they won’t put up a fight over giving Malahi back.”

It was not lost on Lydia that Killian felt responsible for everything that had happened to Mudamora’s queen. He felt responsible, or at least complicit, and not at all pleased to have left her salvation in thehands of a Cel legionnaire who had recently been commander of Rufina’s armies.

Taking his horse’s reins, Killian swung into the saddle and heeled the animal down the path. Leaving Lydia to climb awkwardly into the saddle of her mount as it tried to sidle away from her. “Stop it,” she snapped at the animal, her spectacles sliding down her nose. “Stand still!”

It only snorted and tried to back away, sensing her rising anger and lessening control.

With a snarl, she flung herself into the saddle, and the horse broke into a gallop as though it could outrun the monster on its back.

Within moments, she caught up to Killian and his horse, and her focus became all for staying in the saddle as they wove through the dense forest, following the trail left by their companions. Even without skill at tracking, Lydia noticed when the singular set of hoof tracks turned to two. Then three.

Then four.

And then it became impossible to tell how many horses were in pursuit.

Fear rose in Lydia’s chest. It drove back the incessant hunger, as well as the nausea that came with denying it, because Malahi was the reason they’d come to Mudamora. They needed a tender to cure the blight consuming Mudamora. If Rufina captured or killed her, everything they’d done, everything they’d endured, would be for nothing. The Corrupter would have won.

Lydia urged her horse for more speed.

Wind whipped her hair, and the gaps in the trees revealed dark clouds swirling in the distance. Not the same swirling blackness of the Corrupter descending, but unnatural, nonetheless. Lightning burst downward in precise bolts, and she shouted, “That has to be Baird! He must be using his mark to manipulate the weather.”

Killian cast a glance over his shoulder, giving her a tight nod before laying his reins against his exhausted mount’s shoulder.

Faster.

Lydia bent over the neck of her horse, then touched the hilt of her sword with one hand. How much good she’d be able to do with it, she didn’t know, but if Baird was resorting to manipulating the weather, it meant the situation was dire.

Above, the clouds swirled and surged, but between rolls of thunder, Lydia heard a familiar sound that chilled her to the core.