Page 195 of The Stolen Throne
I’m almost halfway up when those things—I can’t think of them as people—below jump to their feet with shrieks of pure rage.
Heights are no longer my worst fear.
I hit the top of the wall and drag myself up and over with the help of one of the Wanderers. The others are gathered here, looking out over the city with horror-filled eyes. The entire place is crawling with those things.
The Wanderer who helped me leans over to grab Cain, who collapses on the ground, and then Tziah.
“What in the stars?” Cain moans overly loud. “What’s happening?”
We don’t have time for answers right now. “We need to get to our rooms. Barricade in there.”
Cain frowns at me, eyes focused on my lips, shaking his head. “What?” he yells.
Damnation. Tziah’s power. He was right beside her, and now he can’t hear. “Help him,” I tell the Wanderer.
Then, I grab Achlys by the arm. “What are those things?”
She’s holding herself so stiffly she might shatter. Fear has turned her eyes blank. Slowly, she focuses on me. “Flesh Reapers.” She shudders. “For one night, anyone healed by the king’s power the night before must sacrifice for receiving such a blessing.”
Dread hangs over me like a hangman’s noose. “What kind of sacrifice?”
“The healed are overtaken with a thirst for the blood of all those who remain sick or weak or unable to contribute, all those who were not able to be healed by the king.” She taps her nose. “They can smell them. Smell the rot.”
“They…kill them?” I ask slowly.
Achlys nods. “Some of the unhealed try to hide. Some try to tie up their healed loved ones before it happens, to try to stop them. But there’s no use. They gain the strength of ten men, and they will not stop their purge until the dawn.”
Purge.
Merciful heavens… Vos. He’s going to be like those things down there, trying to kill the unhealed.
Wait. Is that why the Flesh Reapers didn’t kill Cain? He was in their way, but he’s strong and healthy.
My insides go Tyndra cold, shivers cascading over my skin. Those possessed people were coming for me. Why? Because I rejected the blessing and I didn’t let the king’s power heal me? Another realization follows on its heels, and terror lances through me, white-hot and wild.
Tabra.
Vos is probably with her, and she wasn’t healed.
Dread steals my breath. Is that why Reven hasn’t come to find me? Is he protecting my sister? But that doesn’t explain why I can’t hear him. Feel him.
Something is wrong.
I take off running, only to immediately pull up short. The gate over the door into our building is down. Somebody removed Pella’s block. Whirling around, I squint, trying to see the half mile or so all the way down to the building at the corner of this long wall.
I’m pretty sure that gate is down, too.
“Tziah!” I search for her in the group. “How did you get up here?”
Her hands fly, but I can’t keep up. I shake my head, and she tries again. I still don’t understand.
“You were already up here when the gates came down?” Cain yells.
Tziah flings her hands into the air on a nod.
The people up here are safe enough in that case, but I have to get to Tabra, to Reven. I spin back to the rope, dragging it up the outside in a frenzy of jerking pulls.
Cain appears at my side, helping me get it up. But as soon as it’s up, I start untying it, and he frowns at me. “What are you doing?”
