Page 43 of The Primal of Blood and Bone (Blood and Ash #6)

Unprepared, my hand slipped free from Poppy’s, and something threw me back. I hit the wall with a grunt but landed on my feet, my head jerking up. A hum started in my blood as a silvery glow lit up the thick, gnarled roots that spilled onto the floor from the window.

Eather.

The very same Primal power swelled in my chest, responding to the charged air. The essence crackled and hissed as it flowed over the roots on the floor. The churning, silver glow swirled over the roots that draped over Poppy’s legs and then washed over the last of the roots lying across her chest.

The gleam of eather brightened to a point where it was almost too painful to look at.

The roots then shuddered, and as the luminescence of eather faded, they broke apart, shattering into a fine, shimmering dust that vanished before it touched the floor or any of Poppy’s skin.

Pushing to my feet, I staggered toward the bed on weak legs, knowing that the…

The Queen of the Gods had answered my prayers.

POPPY

My palms glided over reddish-orange wildflowers as I made my way through a field bathed in bright, golden sunlight.

The tall, wispy flowers skimmed my knees as they swayed in the breeze.

My steps slowed. There was something distinctly familiar about this field, and its beauty was almost magical, but all I felt was sorrow, helplessness, and inevitability.

But the inevitability of what?

You know.

Tiny bumps broke out over my skin at the whisper in the wind. It wasn’t like what I heard in the darkness. This sounded like my voice.

I turned slowly, and the field of flowers faded into a thin mist. Through the wispy vapor, I saw gold steeples, but it was the glossy black spires in the distance that held my attention.

Heart lurching, I stepped back as the wind seethed in my voice. Liar . Thief. Manipulator. Murderer. Monster.

The hem of my thin nightgown fluttered at my calves, drawing my attention. The material was white.

I didn’t like the color white.

Bitter, suffocating desolation washed over me, conjuring brief flashes of gold walls and floors. Gold bars —

The delicate, soft hum of some unknown melody suddenly filled the meadow, jerking me from the flashing images. I spun, searching the field until my gaze landed on her .

She was bent slightly, her back to me, cradling a woven basket in her arms. Her long, unbound hair cascaded across the back of her cream gown, glowing like burnt copper in the sunlight.

“Hello?” I called out.

The humming ceased, but she didn’t turn to me.

Clearing my throat, I crept forward. “Can…can you hear me?”

She straightened and placed a long-stemmed flower in her basket. “I’ve always heard you.”

I blinked, my lips parting as I stared at her. My stomach started to twist with unease. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.”

My heart lurched. Her voice…

“And you know where you are,” she continued. “You’ve been here countless times before, in one way or another.”

A frown tugged at my lips as I turned toward the mist still shrouding the Temples and the city below. I turned to the towering slate rocks of the Elysium Peaks. My stomach twisted further. I knew this place. The cliffs were…

“The Cliffs of Sorrow,” I said.

The wind lifted a strand of her deep-red hair as clouds appeared above, casting a shadow that slithered across the meadow. “He’s calling to you,” she said, her head cocking to the side. “You should go to him.”

“What?” I didn’t hear anyone calling out to me.

“Listen. You’ll hear him.” She dipped and plucked another flower. “Just listen.”

“I don’t…” I trailed off, hearing something in the wind.

A name was being called.

Poppy .

The wind tumbled through the meadow, carrying more of his words with it. “Please open your eyes again and return to me.”

My breath stuttered. The raspy plea brought tears to my eyes.

“You hear him now,” she said, snapping my gaze back to her. The dark clouds had crested the Peaks.

“I do.”

“Good.” She held the basket closer, her shoulders going rigid. “You shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer. Go to him.”

A colder, biting wind blew across the meadow. The pretty, delicate wildflowers bent under its force, withering and turning gray. The shadows were only a handful of feet away, and the scent of stale lilacs filled the air.

“Return to him now,” she said, stepping back. “The other is almost here.”

“Who?”

“Death,” she whispered, or maybe it was the wind again. “Go.”

Tiny bumps broke out all over my skin. The flowers in her basket began to wilt, the petals graying and curling inward. “I—”

She spun, sending the long, red strands of her hair flying out. As they settled around her face and shoulders, I staggered back in shock.

Her face was heart-shaped, her jaw stubborn, and her lips full. A light smattering of freckles dotted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Green eyes met mine.

Hand shaking, I lifted my fingers to my left cheek. It was like looking in a mirror at what I could’ve been if not for the slightly rough skin I felt against my fingertips.

It was impossible.

“How?” I croaked. “How is this—?”

The wind changed abruptly. A low moan came, sending a chill down my spine.

Another joined it, and then another until a deafening chorus of anguished cries erupted from the mountains and reverberated in the air.

Terror—pure and raw—gathered in the back of my throat.

The once lush, green grass at our feet shriveled and turned a sickly gray as if infected by the wailing misery around us.

Toward the foothills of the Peaks, shadows of crimson-streaked silver spun above the ground—

She was suddenly right in front of me. Fear clouded her all-too-familiar eyes, but something else moved behind the horror. Something just as potent.

Rage.

“It is too late,” she whispered, the words striking a chord deep within me.

She stepped back as the churning mass darkened the sky above us.

“Don’t let him touch you. Don’t let him in again.

” Her lips continued to move, but I could no longer hear what she said.

She…just drifted away, disappearing like trails of mist as a strange but familiar awareness pressed down on me.

Shadows raced across the sky. More tiny bumps broke out over my skin as I shivered, taking a step back. My gaze lifted to the sky. The strands of crimson and silver slowed, revealing a shape in the center of the seething mass of the foreboding clouds.

A deep coldness suddenly enveloped me as the shape took the form of a male. The sluggish beat of my heart thudded heavily in my chest and then picked up, warning me that the hulking form above me was a harbinger of nothing good.

Dark laughter rode an icy gust of wind, a chilling, malevolent sound that filled the air. The crimson bands brightened into ribbons of fresh blood, just like his eyes—

He arrived with a burst of frigid wind, shattering the towering mountains.

I didn’t want to look at him, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Dread knotted my stomach as my gaze crawled upward.

All I saw was bone. Bone and eye sockets filled with swirling blood and vast nothingness.

I knew in a heartbeat I was staring Death in the eyes.

True Death.

Icy wind whipped around me as every instinct demanded that I flee and put as much space between us as possible.

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t do anything but stand there as if I were already dead as Death approached. Ruddy flesh crawled over his jaw. Lips formed as his mouth opened in a grotesque smile, and in the swirling, red eyes, I saw countless pale faces going lax and watched the light of life snuffed out of them.

Streaks of gold suddenly raced above, cutting through the darkness.

The half-formed being before me jerked his head to the sky.

His mouth stretched wide, unleashing a deafening howl that reverberated through my bones and shook the ground below me.

Every fiber of my being felt the raw power and ferocity of that enraged roar.

I stood frozen, unable to tear my gaze away from Death, my heart pounding in my chest—

“ I’m here ,” came the frigid, brittle whisper. “ You’re so scared, my sweet. I’ll take all that fear away. I’ll take it all. ”

Death’s arm lifted as skin wrapped around bony fingers. The stare cut me down until I felt small and insignificant in his presence.

“No,” I croaked.

The hand halted.

I wasn’t small.

I wasn’t insignificant.

The wind whirled around me, cold and then hot.

“I’m not afraid,” I whispered.

Death’s head tilted as golden-bronze flesh spread over the broad cheekbones.

I took a breath, and it felt different, deeper. “I’m not afraid.”

Bolts of silvery gold light suddenly pierced the darkness, streaking out and scattering the shadows. Something jerked Death back. His howl was swept away in the wind as the silver-tinged gold light washed over him, swallowing him whole. Its warmth grazed my forehead like a summer’s kiss.

Only silence followed.

Then a voice.

“ Hear me, Poppy. ” The softly spoken command echoed through every bone. “ It’s time. Wake up. ”

The flash of intense golden light tinged with silver left me numb, and then…

Sensation slowly returned, bringing a prickly wave that started in my feet and moved upward, tingling and creeping up my legs.

The pins-and-needles sensation turned into a blazing fire, spreading throughout my body and increasing in intensity as it reached my stomach—my empty and aching stomach. The flames surged toward my throat.

Despite the burning inside me, I was cold. I was…

What was I?

Seeds of panic sprouted as I tried to pry my lips apart to call out, but they felt as if they had been sewn together. I couldn’t open my eyes either. It was as if they had been sealed by plaster.