Page 117 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

POPPY

Riders were crouched on their backs, and I couldn’t tell if it was seaweed or clothing hanging from them.

They were in the same condition as their horses—more bone and chalky white barnacle than dull gray flesh and seemingly held together by thin strands of tendon and the very will of the sea.

They held onto reins with one hand and raised shadowstone sickle swords in the other.

The horses shrieked as their hooves bore down on the sandy shore. It wasn’t a whinny or a neigh. The sound was warped, almost bird-like, and utterly terrifying.

And I just stood there, open-mouthed and in shock, as they rode right past me, dozens of them heading for the streets of Lowertown. I knew I needed to do something, but I was stunned.

Seahorses?

They were real?

Shouts from the occupied ships at the dock drew my gaze. A large merchant ship, several piers to my right, was rocking. My gaze lowered, and I saw what they shouted about.

Ceeren.

Or at least what I expected the ceeren to look like.

They were climbing the sides of the ships, their upper bodies like mortals— long-dead mortals.

Their flesh was like the riders’: patchy and covered in barnacles and kelp.

Their lower halves were like creatures of the sea, scaled and finned—really, super-dead creatures of the sea.

How they could pull themselves up the sides of the ships with more bone than muscle was beyond me, but they looked otherworldly strong. Their nails or claws scored the wood and tore out chunks of it. If they could do that to wood, flesh and bone would be nothing.

“Archers!” a voice from the inner Rise called. “Fire at will!”

I twisted at the waist as arrows sliced through the air in a wave, their tips glinting red. Bloodstone. They struck the riders and their horses, piercing flesh and bone. The impact of the bolts didn’t knock the riders from their rotting saddles.

It shattered them.

Bloodstone, something I wasn’t sure was used as a weapon in their time, could kill gods? Well, dead gods. Did that make a difference? I didn’t know, but those riders, who had to be ceeren in full mortal form, were completely, totally dead.

My mind kept looping back to that fact. Dead ceeren were riding seahorses through the streets of Lowertown. And only two beings could raise the dead like that.

The true Primal of Death and the true Primal of Life. Instinct told me I couldn’t—not to this extent, anyway, where the power of life or death could reach back thousands of years. No. The essence would need to be tied to a Court for that.

My stomach shifted with unease as confusion rose. Like last night, I didn’t sense him. He wasn’t here, but…

His will was.

An arrow hissed past me, striking a ceeren on the side of the ship, jolting me from my stupor. What was I doing just standing here?

Stepping forward, I summoned the eather, and it responded at once, filling my veins and tinting my vision with gold-laced shadows.

Essence sparked from my fingertips as I raised my right hand.

I focused on the ceeren that had reached the rails of the ship.

Crackling, spitting light erupted from my fingertips, arcing in the space between me and the vessel and striking the ceeren as it launched itself over the railing.

The wind picked up again, whipping at the edges of my blouse and dampening my face with mist from the sea as I searched for Casteel’s unique mark.

Finding the lush scent of dark spices, pine, and winter citrus, I opened the notam to him as I sent a bolt of eather racing over the docks to take out another ceeren.

This is Kolis’s vellá . His will, I told him, as a wave of new riders rose from the sea. A volley of arrows came down, less than half striking targets. I threw out my other hand as Casteel’s presence brushed my thoughts.

Then, let’s show him what we think of his will.

I smiled as the eather followed my will, erupting in a web that descended on the ceeren climbing the ship, shattering them instantaneously.

The clang of a sword jerked my attention toward the city. Soldiers and guards met the ceeren in the streets in a clash of bloodstone against shadowstone, some on horseback and others on foot.

I found Casteel in the chaos. It was impossible not to when he moved with such predatory grace, swiping a bloodstone sword through the bony leg of a seahorse whose rider had just struck down a guard.

Casteel darted toward a low stone wall, jumped off it, and spun, driving the sword through the chest of a rider.

He landed in a crouch, rising smoothly as his gaze connected with mine.

He smirked, then spun on another rider.

So damn arrogant.

Not too far behind him was Kieran, wielding two swords.

And on horseback was…Malik. He’d found a horse and, apparently, a weapon.

I watched Casteel’s brother as I gave myself a moment for the essence to level out.

I’d never seen him fight before. He charged down the narrow, steep streets, hovering over the saddle with knees locked tight on the horse’s flanks as he swept his sword in a brutal arc and cut down a rider.

Movement near the bluff snatched my attention.

My stomach tightened as Casteel rushed down the incline, jumping from the rocks.

I immediately recognized Delano and the blackish-gray wolven beside him.

Sage. She leaped in a blur of fur and muscle, slamming into a rider with bone-jarring force.

I cringed as she sank her teeth into the thin strips of skin around the ceeren’s throat. That could not taste good.

Lip curling, I started toward the wharf, knowing there would have to be fallen swords I could—

The dock suddenly rattled, causing my heart to skip a beat.

I took a step back as the sea started to froth, sending sprays of water across the wood.

The planks splintered with a sharp crack.

A bony hand broke through like something straight from a nightmare, clamping down on my ankle, its touch cold and slimy as it yanked hard.

I swallowed a yelp as dull pain shot up my leg.

I lost my footing on the water-slick wood and went down hard on my back as another fist punched through the dock, splitting the boards.

The whole structure shuddered and groaned as cracks raced across the space between the two hands.

The ceeren’s head and shoulders burst through, and clumps of matted hair and seaweed clung to its skull as it snapped up.

I couldn’t tell if it was male or female, but there was no flesh on its torso, and I could see straight into the hollow cavity of its rib cage.

But it had lips and eyes—eyes that were vast and as black as an abyss except for the center that burned with the crimson glow of Death.

The lips peeled back, baring jagged teeth a Craven would be envious of as it lifted its lower half from the hole.

The ceeren laughed, the sound thick and wet as it spewed brackish water that smelled like a foul mixture of something sickly sweet and rotted fish.

“I’m going to vomit,” I whispered, the bile building in the back of my throat as I unsheathed my shadowstone dagger.

The laughing stopped, and it cocked its head.

“Right in your face,” I finished, jerking upward as I thrust the blade into its chest.

Bones— soft bones—cracked a second before the ceeren shattered into repulsive-smelling ash.

Gagging, I started to rise just as the entire dock heaved, the planks buckling. Seawater exploded upward in a towering spray of foam as a ceeren erupted from the water. Another appeared behind it, coming down on the dock and causing the structure to dip.

“Shit,” I hissed as I started to slide.

Twisting sideways, I grabbed a board. The last thing I needed was to fall into the water.

My fingers curled around the rough plank as a ceeren reached for me.

I swung out with the blade, catching it in the side of its neck.

As it broke apart, a hand gripped my calf and pulled.

Muscles screamed in my arm and side as the dock heaved and sank.

Water rushed over my legs as the ceeren used me to climb its disgusting—

The scent of citrus and snow enveloped me as a bloodstone sword arced above my head, slicing through the ceeren’s neck.

“Are you trying to take a swim?” Casteel put an arm under mine and hauled me from the water. “Or are you trying to play with dead things?”

“Neither,” I gasped, once more on my feet and racing back toward the shore. “Thank you.”

Giving me a wink over his shoulder, he grabbed my hand and picked up speed as the dock collapsed behind us. For once, I kept up with him.

The moment we reached the wharf, we spun back to the pier and watched it fall into the water—the violently churning water.

Narrow geysers appeared as the sea seemed to spew forth creatures from its very depths.

Ceeren came ashore all along the coast—not dozens but hundreds of them, either swarming the ships or emerging from the sea on horseback.

“Fuck,” Casteel muttered, yanking me to his side as we turned back to the city.

I saw Kieran knock a rider from its saddle.

Naill was on the street with him, Emil on horseback nearby.

Malik was closer, along the lower streets, his jaw hard as he lifted his sword and used his knees to urge the horse forward.

Delano and Sage were behind him, the larger white wolven casting worried glances in our direction before a rider cut off my view.

I turned my attention to the remaining piers.

A sickening knot of dread balled in my stomach.

The ceeren had swamped two more ships farther down the dock. And the riders…

They were everywhere . Six circled us, the hooves of their horses cracking the wood.

I snapped forward, driving my dagger into a seahorse’s chest. It’s dead. It’s already dead , I kept reminding myself as Casteel took care of the rider.