Page 39 of The Shadowed Oracle (The Bonded Worlds #1)

She must’ve been badly injured, still unable to move away from the frenzied flowers.

Ingrid couldn’t sit idly any longer. She pushed herself upward and walked stealthily toward the male.

He was smaller and skinnier than any Viator she’d seen to this point.

He was less astute, too—still busy marveling at an unconscious Tyla as her body took form.

She was like an angel, lying there as if she’d drifted off to sleep.

Seeing her like that, almost sparkling as the color returned, it triggered some primal protectiveness within Ingrid.

Her pace quickened, charging awkwardly. This couldn’t be like her bout with the Ungii.

She’d have to follow through. She’d have to drive the blade into flesh.

Her footsteps were nearly mute, the element of surprise on her side, and now all she had to do was?—

But the metallic song of her sword unsheathing alerted the thin soldier. He had just enough time to duck before Ingrid brought the full weight of her blade down on him, badly missing his neck and clanging off his armor.

“You imbecile!” the gruff one said. “This is no Shade!”

The smaller Viator that Ingrid had attacked was still on his back. He’d fallen far enough away from Tyla that Ingrid felt comfortable with her ability to reach her unconscious friend if he went for her, so she held her position, watching him.

“Apologies Cap!” The young soldier got to his feet. “Let me… let me take care of her.”

Ingrid bit back a provocation, wanting to fight, wanting to protect her friend, but not losing awareness enough to think she could take him on alone.

“Stay where you are!” the one called Cap called out. He was grey-haired with leathery skin. Older, but not weaker, standing tall and confident. “She’s mine.”

Ingrid took a few rushed steps backward. She watched as the veteran soldier dismounted his horse gracefully, planting his feet and drawing his weapon in one motion. The gleam in his eyes was alarming, telling tales of many battles much more challenging than the one she’d give him.

He broke into a sprint, the tip of his sword outstretched.

Ingrid retreated to Tyla’s side just as fast, protecting her.

“Cap!” the smaller one called out.

But he was too late.

One of Dean’s throwing knives had struck the seasoned warrior directly between the eyes. He recoiled, almost falling, but kept himself upright and on his feet.

“Cap!? You able, Cap?! Oh Ealis save me… Cap!?”

Within seconds of his final plea, the frightened soldier was seized from behind by a hobbled Raidinn.

The size difference between the two of them was surreal.

Even with the apparent injury he’d sustained to his leg when avoiding the galloping horse, Raidinn lifted the boy upward like a rag doll with just one arm, and promptly slit his throat with the other.

“One down,” he called out to Dean. “How’s the big bastard?”

They both looked to the Captain. He was still standing despite the six-inch blade jammed into the front of his skull.

“Just about done.”

Raidinn chuckled mercilessly, amused. “Bloody hell. Look at him.”

The Captain no longer wobbled. He’d gone eerily still. His eyes were wide, staring directly ahead of him. It might’ve been fascinating if it wasn’t so grotesque to behold. A male who might’ve lived thousands of years, reduced to this. All because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

The strangest of all, Ingrid thought, was that he might still live. If Viator could heal as quickly as Tyla had said, then even a wound like this might be fought through. As long as no other wound was inflicted.

Unwilling to underestimate her foe, Ingrid strode toward the half-dead soldier and reared back her sword. With a clunky stroke, she put him out of his misery. The blade made a clean cut. The weight of the Viator once called Cap made a nauseating plopping noise on the ground.

“Good form,” Dean said casually. “I’d compliment Tyla on her teachings if she wasn’t—how is she, Rai?”

“She’ll be fine.” He’d kneeled next to his sister and was inspecting her head for the injury that knocked her out. “Looks kind of cozy, don’t you think?” He smiled a wild grin.

“She does,” Ingrid replied. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, it felt good to finally speak. “Like an angel.”

“Can’t believe this asshole—” Raidinn nudged the corpse of the young man he’d just cut open from ear to ear. “Can’t believe he thought she was a Shade. Do me a favor, will you team? Don’t mention that to her. Ever since she’s turned the big four-zero, she’s a little self-conscious about her looks.”

Ingrid brought her hand over her chest, smiling a promise.

“Won’t touch the topic,” Dean added, looking to Ingrid. There was more than confidence in his eyes. There was relief, and something like admiration. Ingrid smiled at him.

But the sound of hooves interrupted the moment.

“The third rider.” Ingrid widened her stance, lifting her blood-soaked blade. “We forgot about him.”

“The bloke that lost his little pet?” Raidinn argued.

The hooves drew closer. Louder and more powerful, like the crashing of a rounding hammer on hot steel.

Bang. Bang. Bang. It had to be more than one rider.

The rest of the unit must’ve been nearby.

Raidinn stood and shielded his still ailing sister.

Ingrid joined him, then Dean, forming a wall, ready for whatever appeared to them over that hill.

Though what they saw wasn’t a squadron riding in to avenge their fallen brothers. There were no Viator in sight.

“Oh.” Raidinn let out a deep exhale. “I think we found Alkaleese.”

Striding out of the night was a beast Ingrid couldn’t fathom being tamed by man or Viator. Couldn’t comprehend it even having a name. With its jet-black coat and mane, stomping with hooves like battering rams, she was the most exquisite animal Ingrid had ever seen.

An undeniable allure pulled her closer to the horse called Alkaleese. They faced each other. Deep brown expressive eyes searched Ingrid as she carefully stepped forward with her hand out.

“Hello girl.” She’d slowed to an imperceptible slog. “Do you mind if I come closer?”

“Ingrid,” Dean whispered. “I’m not sure?—”

She waved him off, gently, but Alkaleese still stirred.

“It’s okay,” Ingrid said. She had no sense of danger.

Only the tentative, keen searching that came before an understanding.

Ingrid had plenty of motives to befriend the beast, to ride her the rest of the way, yet there was something else drawing her in.

She couldn’t explain it. Something deep within her told her it was right.

She stepped closer. The animal snorted, shaking her head. Flesh met fur and Alkaleese nuzzled into the embrace, rotating downward and forcing Ingrid to caress the bridge of her nose.

“I’m going to climb on,” Ingrid whispered to her. “Is that okay?”

Alkaleese continued to push her forehead into Ingrid’s hand, almost welcoming her.

Ingrid glanced down at the stirrups and noticed they could be lowered and expanded to accommodate the rider.

With her unoccupied hand, she unfastened the metal buckle and the leather, ladder-like straps fell down to a manageable height.

Ingrid slowly moved to Alkaleese’s side, petting her enormous shoulder.

She made the climb up.

“Careful,” Dean whispered again as the beast bucked slightly, almost throwing Ingrid off at the very moment she straddled her enormous back.

“I’m fine,” she said, steadying herself. “Don’t move.”

Dean’s face pinched with panic. She smiled at him, settling in the saddle. Then, without any second-guessing, she took the reins.

“Forward,” she said.

Nothing happened.

“Ingrid,” Dean persisted, louder this time. “I think we should save horseback riding lessons for a later time. It’s incredibly, terribly—and let me be very clear here— dangerous .”

Ingrid knew that. But so was everything else in that world. Even the damn flowers. If she couldn’t figure out how to ride a beast like this, then maybe she wasn’t what they claimed after all. Maybe she wasn’t the one to defeat Makkar. It would be a kind of test.

That was it, Ingrid thought to herself, the force within telling her to approach the horse was a desire to test herself.

Skeptic that she was, she wanted to fully commit, to put her friend’s theories on trial as soon as possible.

She needed to throw herself into the deep water and teach herself to swim. And there was no time like the present.

“Forward!’ she said louder.

Alkaleese started into a gallop, those thunderous steps leaving divots in the grass.

Ingrid held on tight as the horse took her down the path they’d been traveling, her hair whipping in the wind, eyes watering, and enduring the hard smack against her most intimate of areas as she strained to keep her balance.

She hadn’t expected it to be easy.

Alkaleese leapt and landed hard on a patch of dry grass circling a heavily scourge-affected plant that resembled a maple shrub, causing Ingrid to bite her lip.

She could taste blood. The speed disoriented her, but she dug in with her feet, activating her abdominal muscles, relaxing her shoulders and arms so she wouldn’t spook Alkaleese.

Slowly, Viator and animal synced up.

“I am your rider,” Ingrid whispered. “And you are my friend.”

The words were just as much for her as they were for the beast. The pain and fear in Ingrid’s body dissipated with each utterance.

“I am your rider. And you are my friend,” she said again, and again, repeating the mantra until Alkaleese trotted lazily back to Dean and Raidinn.

The two of them only gawked.

“I don’t care if she bucks me back across the border,” Ingrid declared. “And I don’t care if there aren’t enough magic plants to cloak her. I’m not walking another step through this hell.”

There was no argument.

Dean and Raidinn just turned their attention to the other two riderless horses, sizing them up.