Page 120 of Warrior of the Wild
I pull my hand free of his foot, even though it feels as though I’m pulling my finger off. I roll in the right direction, the movesending more pain shooting through all my injuries. I still can’t breathe from the kick that stunned my lungs.
When I stop, I look up, trying to find the boulders.
Just a few more steps.
I right myself, back up some more, my breaths coming faster than ever.
And then I watch the god take his last step.
Peruxolo reaches for me, only his hands stop midair, as though crashing into an invisible wall. He pulls back, examining his own fingers, before trying to grab me again.
He can’t advance toward me any farther. Not with the boulder of iron at my back, holding him off. There’s another a few paces to his left and a third to his right. Iric, Soren, and I placed them carefully, testing them on lodestones to gauge the appropriate distance.
A large thud sounds behind Peruxolo, and he turns to see Iric and Soren dusting the dirt off their hands from the boulder they dropped behind him. He didn’t notice the two of them coming up from behind, hauling the rock from the sidelines of the battle.
And now Peruxolo is boxed in, unable to move, the natural forces of the metals working against him.
“That’s your brilliant plan?” he asks with a laugh. “You forget that I know how this works. Andyou have no weapon.”
He reaches between the leathers on his forearm and starts to pull the sheet of armor out from there.
It doesn’t give an inch before I rise and reach down into my boot. From it, I pull out a silver dagger. The one Peruxolo used to stab me. His eyes widen in recognition as I plunge the silver tip into the skin at his neck. He goes down.
Blood oozes from the wound, seeps out the side of his mouth, drips onto the pebbles beneath his head. I pull the dagger out, and the stream turns to a pour, as the blood is freed from the large vein there.
He’s dead in seconds.
And the crowd is silent.
Not a soul stirs or really even breathes as I stand over Peruxolo’s body.
I kneel down beside him and pull the armor sheets from his arms and legs. I tug off his boots, unclasp the cloak from off his shoulders, and unstrap his breastplate.
I want to drop onto the ground and sleep. I want the pain to stop and the crowd to go away, but there is still one last thing I have to do.
I’ve finally put it together. The last of the mystery. Why a god would rely on natural forces instead of his power. I know what the rest of the things I saw in Peruxolo’s lair are for.
I grip Peruxolo by his hands and drag him across the ground. Rocks scrape against his back and blood still trickles from his neck, leaving a bloody trail in our wake. But the progress is too slow. I can’t bear it.
I kneel down and manage to heft his weight onto my back.
With an arm and leg on either side of my head, I walk toward my father, who stands at the front of the crowd.
His eyes meet mine. Open wide. Wondering.
I imagine mine like daggers poised to strike. He is why I am here. He sealed my fate.
But now I’m free.
I dump the body at his feet and let everything that has beenburdening me fall off with it. No more worries concerning my family. No more thinking little of myself or thinking I’m not good enough for things.
I nudge the body with a foot, look up at my father, and say, “Here is your god.”
CHAPTER
24
Only then does the stillness evaporate. Cheering erupts so loudly, I think my ears will burst. People rush at me, trying to clap me on the back, ruffle my hair, or skim my clothes—they try to touch me as though I’m the goddess herself.
