Page 73 of The Blade in the Ashes
Nikolai threw up his right hand to catch my attention, his golden rings glinting in the sunlight as he pulled his horse to a stop. Without breathing, he brought a single finger first to his lips, in a gesture to stay quiet, then to his ear in a command to listen.
I frowned. A gentle breeze tickled the back of my neck where strands of hair were escaping from where I had tied it back. The day was quiet. A gust of wind here, a call of a bird there, but nothing out of the ordinary.
There.
A hollow scrape, catching on the raised grooves of the cobblestone.
“Off your horse. Now!”
Nikolai threw himself down, not waiting to watch if I would follow as he unsheathed his sword and pointed to the road ahead of us.
Creeping from behind the corner of a tall brick house emerged what I could only describe as a sickening monster.
Monster wasn’t the right word, though. Because I had spent years studying Ciclopia’s monsters during my schooling and this wasn’t like any of the creatures she had made.
No, this might once have passed for a man.
He might have been tall, were it not for the dislocated leg that dragged like a dead weight behind him. His jaw dangled open at an unnatural angle, eyes unfocused and unseeing. Skin dangled from a cut on his brow. Viscera covered nearly every inch of him.
“What in all of creation isthat?”I hissed, unable to keep the absolute disgust from my voice as I threw my left leg over the side of my horse and dismounted.
Nikolai chuckled darkly, dragging up the sleeves of his shirt despite the cold. He widened his stance and tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, preparing himself to fight. Tendons and cords of muscle rippled under the skin of his forearm, distracting me for the briefest of moments.
“I suppose that is the reality of the Underworld bleeding into the Mortal Realm.”
I snapped back to attention, tearing my eyes away from the veins along his hand to focus instead on the approaching beast.
Its leg was a dead weight dragging behind it, leaving a slick trail of maroon blood across the stones. My upper lip curled back. “Gross.”
“Get ready,” Nikolai commanded as the creature inched closer towards us. “With this many bodies, I doubt he’s the only one here.”
A shiver worked its way down my spine as I sent a silent prayer that if there were more, they didn’t all look so positively wretched.
Then I sent a second prayer that I would finish off my half first and get to watch Nikolai slice through the rest.
Hours later, the smell still clung to me. It hung in a fog over my skin, leaving my nose burning and sending me gagging every time the wind brushed past. I was almost positive that there was no amount of bathing possible that would leave me feeling clean again.
It’s not like I was a stranger to gore and death, but having to face down what was essentially a legion of walking carcasses was not something I would likely forget anytime soon.
“What exactly do you think they were?” I wondered aloud, unable to stop thinking about the sight of those creatures for more than a few moments at a time.
Nikolai shrugged, irritation passing over his features. “I do not know, bird.”
He’d grown tired of my questions and complaints long ago, but I couldn’t help it. They were all I could think of. I could still hear their moans and hisses. I couldfeeltheir blood dripping down my spine.
“Do you think there are more of them? There have to be, right? It’s not like they just emerged from the Underworld and decided to make their home in this one single town.”
Another shrug and hum that was too much of a non-answer for my liking. How was he not as unsettled by this as I was?
“How many more do you think there are? Like… dozens? Hundreds. Gods, Ireallyhope it’s not more than that.”
My fingers were stiff under my leather gloves, dried blood still coating them. We’d moved through Fredrington and continued, not wanting to linger in the town in case more of those monsters arrived. After hours spent riding while covered in this filth, though, I was starting to regret that decision.
Nikolai could have been a lookout while I took a quick bath.
Or two.
“You’re an assassin,” he reminded me dryly, not bothering to look back at me from where he rode a few paces in front of my horse. “Shouldn’t you be able to handle something like this?”
