Page 233 of Vasmora

“Melantha. She changed my face. My body. My voice. She wanted her to suffer.”

Zevander glanced up at his bedroom window, grateful that Maevyth wasn’t looking out of it right then.

If only the general were standing before him in that moment, he’d have torn her limb from limb himself. Would’ve strung her up by her own guts and watched her bleed out. The rage inside of him burned hot. So hot, his scorpions scampered over his skin, restless and ready for attack. “Did you touch her?”

Didn’t matter if he’d been forced to do it. One word would change the Elvyniran’s fate.

“Never. I would not, I swear by the gods.”

Zevander shuddered a breath of relief. Seemed Dravien might live, after all. Shame, given the pent-up fury still pounding through Zevander’s muscles. He’d have gladly taken it out on the Elvyniran. Instead, Zevander jerked his head toward the gate. “Something followed you.”

Dravien glanced back that way, and his brows pulled tight when he turned back around. “I didn’t sense anything until I arrived here. Couldn’t shake the feeling that something was standing in the trees behind me.”

The Corvugons would’ve surely found them, if that were the case.

“Why did you come here?”

“He has nowhere to go,” Kazhimyr answered for him. “Both of us failed you, I know this. But believe me when I say, it wasn’t without a fight.”

From the corner of Zevander’s eye, he caught sight of the fyredrakes prowling at the gate. So distracted by them, Zevander didn’t hear the question Kazhimyr had asked until he called out his name, dragging his attention back to his fellow Letalisz.

“There’s an extra room in The Barracks.” Kazhimyr lowered his gaze. “Ravezio’s. Can he stay?”

“No.” Zevander turned to head back inside, when Kazhimyr strode up to him.

“I can understand your hesitation, but I can assure you, he is no threat.”

“And how can you assure me that?” Zevander tipped his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “See, something has been bothering me. How did the mages know where to find my sister and Dolion? I happen to know Captain Zivant conspired with General Loyce, which makes it awfully convenient that the two of you were captured right around the same time they were attacked.”

His brows pulled together, and he threw a glance over his shoulder. “I understand your anger. I nearly killed him myself.”

“You’re awfully quick to forgive.” Zevander stroked his jaw and, twisting to see Lothare and Adira staring down from one of the battlements, he had a thought. One that damned near made him smile. “I’ll let him stay, on the condition that you keep him the hell away from Eidolon. He stays in The Barracks. If he roams? He becomes food for the dragons.” Or prey to the Solassion who might decide on a more brutal demise, should he happen to learn that Dravien had played a hand in his sister’s death.

Kazhimyr nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed. “Guess I’m not the only one who’s quick to forgive.”

Zevander smirked and turned just in time to catch Lothare pointing toward the gate.

“Mutations!” he shouted, and Zevander spun around.

The fyredrakes let out a roar at a spider that matched them in size, flanked by two of the humanoid mutations they’d seen back at the healer’s cottage, scaling the gate.

“They’re here!” Zevander drew his sword and charged forward.

Dozens more of the humanoid mutations materialized out of nowhere and scrambled over the gate. The alpha fyredrake kept to his right flank, and all three Corvugons swooped overhead, each spewing a silver burst of flames. One of the spider mutations had just cleared the top of the gate when the silver rained down over head, welding it to the iron.

A humanoid mutation rushed toward Zevander, and he raised his hand, the black flame catching on its threadbare rags that hardly clung to its body. The flame engulfed it within seconds, turning it into a shining black sphere.

At his left flank, Kazhimyr and Dravien trailed after him, led by a white cloud of mist that Kazhimyr sent over the creatures, and Lothare and Adira stormed after them.

Zevander swung out his sword, lopping off the legs of a charging spider, and slammed the blade into the space between its head and abdomen, just as Corwin had shown him. It burst into dust, the plume of smoke clogging his lungs. He coughed and spun around for a humanoid that swept toward his right.

The alpha fyredrake tackled it, and a burst of flames shot from its maw. Arms flailing and engulfed in flames, the humanoid charged again, and Zevander swung wide, sending its head flying from its body.

When he turned back toward the gate, dread curled in his stomach.

Dozens more mutations poured onto the grounds of Eidolon.

Kazhimyr sent spears of ice, some impaling the creatures, while others bounced off their protective chitin. Lothare and Adira fought side by side, swords flying, as Lothare multiplied himself. A shout erupted from behind, and Zevander twisted to see Dravien charging toward him, sword drawn back.