Page 116 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

A deafening roar surged as people walking, running, and on horseback pressed forward, crashing into the inner Rise’s closed gates.

High-pitched, pained screams of agony tore through the air as people were crushed in their desperation to get away from whatever was in the water and reach the safety of the castle grounds.

“Get your brother,” I said, causing Casteel to jerk in my direction.

Spinning around, I took off. I heard Kieran and Casteel shout but didn’t stop. My feet slapped off stone as I pushed hard, harder—

Only when my feet pounded off grass instead of stone did I realize I’d shadowstepped to the courtyard, a yard or so from where several guards stood by the gates—gates that shook as the people pounded against them.

“Open the gates!” I yelled. “Open the godsdamn gates!”

Either the soldiers couldn’t hear me over the screams, or they were ignoring me.

The iron and wood shuddered.

Fuck it.

Slowing, I summoned the eather as my will formed in my mind.

The heavy iron bar that took three to four Atlantians to lift swung up and into the air, sending the guards staggering back.

The bar landed to the side with a heavy thump as the guards spun, their shock piercing the walls I’d built in my mind. The gates groaned and then swung open.

People on foot and horseback flooded the courtyard, swallowing the guards as they barreled straight toward me.

My eyes connected with the wide, rolling eyes of a frightened horse as a large wagon wheel seemed to roll out from nowhere, slamming into the side of the carriage and knocking it sideways onto two wheels, flinging the driver from his seat.

Shoulders knocked into mine as the weight of the teetering carriage started to pull the horse.

I shot forward as eather joined my will, stopping the carriage and then lowering it.

It wasn’t exactly gentle. I didn’t have time for that.

Its wheels snapped off their axles, and my attention shifted to the straps tethering the horse.

I broke them, freeing the animal. I was barely able to get out of its way as it tore off, its hooves tearing up the ground. I whirled toward a shout—

Another wagon careened toward a group of young dockworkers—boys and young men barely in their second decades of life.

They were quick on their feet, attempting to scatter and move out of its direct path, but there was nowhere to go.

People and carts were everywhere. One, smaller than the rest with bright carrot-colored hair, tripped on—gods.

He tripped over a body and went down. Another boy, a few years older, spun back and shouted a name I couldn’t make out over the pounding of feet and yelling.

He rushed back and slid down to grab the younger boy as the driverless wagon bore down on them.

I threw out my hand, and the eather left me in a rush.

A crackle of silver light washed over the wagon as it lifted straight into the air, its still-spinning wheels coming a hairsbreadth from the older boy who had thrown himself over the younger one.

His head snapped in my direction, and his eyes widened.

“Move,” I shouted. “Move now!”

The boy scrambled to his feet, dragging the other up with him. Once they were clear, I brought the wagon back down.

I made it to their sides as I caught sight of an Atlantian soldier. “Get to high ground,” I told the boys.

The older one stared as I glimpsed my hand. Gold swirled and mixed with shadows along my skin.

“You’re her ,” the young boy exclaimed, his carroty hair drenched with sweat and plastered to his flushed cheeks. He elbowed the older one in the stomach. “Micky, it’s her .”

“Uh-huh,” Micky mumbled, still staring.

“Go,” I urged them, glancing toward the soldier. Several others had joined him as they fought their way toward the open gates. “Now.”

Hoping they listened, I shadowstepped to where the soldiers were. I grabbed the arm of the closest one. Startled, he swung on me.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said.

He halted, his face paling. “Your M-majesty, I didn’t realize—”

“It’s all right,” I interrupted. “I need you to get this crowd under control and to high ground.”

The soldier swallowed. “General Aylard ordered us to the docks—”

“I don’t care what General Aylard said,” I cut in as I stepped around him, getting the attention of the other soldiers. Their gold-and-ivory cloaks rippled in the wind as they turned. “I am telling you to get this crowd under control. I will take care of whatever is in the water.”

Hopefully.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” a darker-skinned guard said with a slight head bow. “Sa’Quir, get Volour’s team to the gates. Have them stop any wagons coming in and free the horses.”

As the soldier barked out quick orders, I took a breath and turned to the gates. Hoping Casteel got to Malik, I willed myself to the docks.

The wind had calmed as the wooden boards of the dock creaked under my feet.

I scanned the sea, the waters dark instead of the stunning shade of blue the sea normally was.

I dragged in a deep breath and caught the scent of salt in the air, but also something else.

The sickly-sweet stench of…stale lilacs.

Death.

Kolis.

The water suddenly churned violently between the docked ships.

My breath lodged in my throat as something Ian had spun tales about as we walked the southern shores of the Stroud Sea as children erupted from the water, seawater cascading off creatures with the heads and bodies of a horse but gills beneath their eyes.

Gilled horses with slick, pale flesh clinging to jutting, sharp bones threaded with brightly colored blue and pink coral.

Seahorses.

They were seahorses .

And they weren’t alone.