Page 15 of Scorched Earth (Dark Shores #4)

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.

Deimos.

Whether it was because of the darkness provided by the storm or that their riders had given them no choice, the creatures were braving the sunlight. Worse still, there were at least two of them.

Ahead, the trees ended at the crest of a slope.

Killian drew up his horse, Lydia’s mount sliding to a stop next to it.

Down the steep hill was a meadow that was alight with flame, and smoke billowed on the violent wind of the storm.

A tiny, hooded figure clutching the reins of a rearing horse stood on the road, a man and a giant flanking her.

A dead deimos lay smoking in the charred grass, a victim of the lightning.

But encircling the trio were a dozen soldiers led by a woman clad in black leathers, long dark hair spilling down her back.

Lydia’s heart lurched. Rufina.

The thunder from the storm had hidden the noise of their approach, so neither group had noticed them yet. But as the lightning had ceased, the wind carried Rufina’s voice to Lydia’s ears.

“I’m not pleased with you, Agrippa,” the Queen of Derin said. “You stole my favorite toy.”

“But I left you with two better ones.” Agrippa smirked, the wind whipping his brown hair this way and that. “Or did you lose them, too?”

“Kitaryia can run back to the far side of the world, and it won’t matter.” Rufina lifted one shoulder in a graceful shrug. “She has welcomed my master into her heart and serves him now. If she’s not already been the death of Killian, it’s only a matter of time.”

“I always did think they were destined for a tragic end,” Agrippa replied. “But they’re not my problem.”

Rufina took a step closer, only for lightning to lance down from the sky, exploding the dirt before her. She froze.

“No closer, Your Grace,” Agrippa said. “Or you’ll find yourself in the same position as your mount.” He jerked his chin toward the smoking deimos corpse.

“What do we do?” Lydia whispered, only to discover Killian lifting the bow he’d found at one of the abandoned towns, nocking an arrow and taking aim at Rufina.

“We end this,” he whispered, then let the arrow loose.

It flew through the air, aim sure and true, but just before it struck, Rufina spun and snatched it from the air.

Brush crackled behind Lydia, and she turned to find two women in homespun dresses standing behind them.

Their skirts were covered in vomit, their feet bare and stained, and they were very, very dead.

“Blighters!” she gasped, only for the women to drop to the ground. Both had arrows embedded in their eyes.

Killian lowered his bow, but quick as he’d been, the damage was done.

“Why won’t you just die, Lord Calorian,” the Queen of Derin called up the slope.

She watched them with midnight eyes rimmed with flame, her skin pale against the black leather clothing she wore.

To Lydia’s eyes, she glowed preternaturally bright, but even without her gift, the youth of Rufina’s face betrayed that she was drunk on stolen life. “I grow weary of our encounters.”

“Then let’s make this our last.” Killian dug in his heels, shooting his remaining arrows at Rufina’s soldiers as he galloped down the slope. Dropping the bow, he pulled his sword.

Instead of raising her own weapon to fight, Rufina turned on her heels and ran.

A deimos swooped from the sky, and she leapt onto its back, taking to the air. As she did, Lydia heard it.

In the back of her mind, she’d thought it noise from the storm.

But it wasn’t thunder. It was marching feet.

Hundreds, no, thousands, of men and women ran in lockstep through the trees, their faces blank.

As dead as the two women on the road behind her. And infinitely more in number than they could fight.

Her horse reared and Lydia dug in her heels. “Run!” She galloped down the hill. “Blighters!”

“Get on the horse!” Agrippa roared at Malahi. Instead of listening to him, Malahi dropped to the ground and pressed her hands to dirt.

The ground shook, and Lydia’s mount nearly lost its footing. Nothing before her explained the tremor, so she risked a backward glance.

The trees were moving.

It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. Anything she’d known possible. The trees grew and wove together, branches twisting around each other and creating a wall running as far as she could see in either direction.

Yet it came at a cost, for Malahi slumped into Agrippa’s arms.

Pulling her horse to a stop next to Killian’s, Lydia stared at the wall. It shuddered as the blighters slammed into it, and she held her breath, half expecting for men and women to tear their way through it.

But it held.

Killian rounded on the remaining Derin soldiers. “I suggest you run.”

The men appeared ready to take that advice when deimos screamed overhead, three descending, including the one that bore Rufina.

“Baird!” Agrippa shouted. “Kill them!”

“I’ve told you, little man,” the giant shouted back, shaved head gleaming with sweat, “my aim isn’t that accurate!”

The deimos landed with heavy thuds. One screamed, wings stretching out wide, and Lydia’s terrified mount reared. She toppled backward and landed in the dirt.

“An interesting display.” Rufina drew her sword, which she used to gesture at Malahi, who had roused. “This is why you’re so precious to me, Your Grace. Not all of the marked are equal, and with your power, the blight will stretch across even the Endless Seas.”

“I’ll die first,” Malahi hissed as Agrippa helped her upright.

Rufina laughed. “Brave words from the girl who hid from me beneath her bed. I remember how you screamed when I dragged you out by your ankles, Malahi. I remember how you wept when I cut open your face, and every time after when we’d look at your ruined beauty in the mirror.”

“Do you remember the moment I gave in?” Malahi lifted her chin. “I will never bend to your master. Never.”

A wave of shame washed over Lydia, but she shoved it away, because Rufina was only buying time. Malahi’s wall was impressive, but it was only a matter of the blighters circling around the edges. The dead could run forever and not falter.

They needed to escape, and quickly.

Killian must have come to the same conclusion, because without warning, he galloped straight at Rufina.

What happened next, Lydia couldn’t have said, for the other deimos and its corrupted rider flew directly at her.

She flung herself out of the way. Scrambling for her fallen sword, she caught a glimpse of Agrippa and Baird exchanging blows with the soldiers while Rufina’s mount prowled up behind Killian from the rear.

“Look out!” she screamed, but the moment of distraction cost her as the corrupted who’d attacked her struck again.

The impact of the woman hitting her was akin to being struck by a battering ram, driving the wind from her lungs and sending Lydia’s sword flying from her grip.

They rolled across the ground, the corrupted ending up on top of her, and Lydia had no chance to react before the woman’s hands were on her throat. Choking.

Taking.

Lydia’s scream cut off as the corrupted squeezed her throat. She couldn’t see Killian beyond the deimos and didn’t know if he was alive.

You’re weak, the voice that plagued her whispered. You love him, but you’re too weak to fight for him.

Lydia clawed at the woman’s hands, but the corrupted only laughed, breath hot as she leaned down, her eyes infernos. An inhuman voice poured from her lips: “You’re mine, Kitaryia.”

Lydia’s blood turned to ice. She knew the Corrupter’s voice all too well because it was the voice that spoke every fear in her heart.

I’m not, she tried to scream, but no sound came from her lips.

The corrupted smiled, revealing stained teeth. “I will make you strong. I won’t leave you to stand alone as Hegeria did. I will make you the queen you were destined to be.”

No no no!

The pain in her throat was excruciating, life pouring from her into the other woman. In the distance, Killian roared her name.

“He stands alone,” the disembodied voice said through the corrupted woman’s lips. “The Six have left him to die. Look.”

Killian fought both Rufina and her deimos, each taking turns attacking.

“You could kill them both, if you wanted,” the voice crooned, breath hot against her ear. “Or you can allow them to kill him. Choose.”

Lydia chose.

Her hand latched like a vise onto the woman’s wrist, and with all the desperation burning in her soul, Lydia yanked. The woman’s eyes widened in shock. Her lips parted just as Lydia drained the last of her life, and her body exploded into dust.

Lydia saw only red.

Felt only need.

With speed not meant for this world, she flung herself at her fallen sword, swinging it at the forelegs of the deimos between her and Killian. It shrieked as its limbs severed, falling, blood spraying, but Lydia already raced toward the other deimos.

It tried to take flight, but Lydia was faster.

Flinging herself onto the creature’s back, she wrapped her arms around its neck as it rose in the air, teeth snapping at her leg.

Lydia only dug her fingers into its leathery skin and took.

The desperate creature flew higher, trying to shake her free, the battle a blur of shapes as bolts of lightning danced through the sky.

Then the ground was rushing up to meet her.

The dead deimos exploded into pieces of brittle bone and dust as it struck, the impact snapping Lydia’s arms. She barely felt the pain, the excess of life the sweetest pleasure as it mended her body, making her whole.

And so very powerful.

In her periphery, Rufina bolted, a blur of black racing from the fight. Lydia considered pursuit, but then her eyes fixed on the gleaming beacon of life that stood before her. How had she not noticed before how bright the queen of Mudamora shone?

“Lydia!” Malahi gasped, taking a step back. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

Lydia took a step after her, then another, closing the distance.

“Please.”

In the back of her mind, Lydia heard her conscience screaming that Mudamora needed Malahi. That this young woman was their salvation. But louder was the hunger, and it whispered, All Malahi has ever caused you is grief.

“Lydia…” Malahi lifted the knife in her hand even as Lydia’s muscles bunched, readying to attack.

She’ll hesitate , the voice instructed. Take her life now.

Lydia took a step—

Only for something to strike her in the back with violent force. The ground rose up to meet her, and for a heartbeat, everything went dark.