Page 137 of A Touch of Poison
The world lurched as I fell back, driving the air from my lungs. I couldn’t do anything else but roll as my pulse roared, like it was a beast trying to scare off the Horror bellowing inches from my face.
Somehow I managed to jab as I rolled. Even more miraculous, I hit something, and the monster reared back with a scream, bleeding from a ruined eye.
But it kept fighting. My chance jab hadn’t gone deep enough to hit the brain.
Still. One leg missing. Blind on one side. It couldn’t last much longer.
I scrambled to my feet as a horn blasted through the air and hooves clattered across the paving.
Light filled the street as a golden stag galloped in.
Cyrus bared his teeth in a wicked grin and raised the Brightblade.
I didn’t have time to stand and stare—the Horror had realised I’d taken its eye and must’ve decided that made me the biggest danger, even as the full unit hacked at it.
Blow after blow I blocked, dodged, feinted to make the thing pull back an inch. I kept to its blind side, taking every opportunity to swipe at its face as it lunged for me, ignoring the acid burning through gaps in my armour.
“Don’t worry, Serpent.” Cyrus’s voice cut through the sound of my own pulse. “I’ve got this foul beast.”
A flash of light arced in from the right, and mid-lunge, the Horror crashed to one side.
There was no screech, no more blows, just the thing lying on its side, the Brightblade embedded in its eye.
Hands on my knees, I caught my breath, ears still ringing from the death cry of the first monster. With a couple of gestures, I had someone take the injured guard for healing. Getting tossed across the street like that, he’d have internal bleeding.
Meanwhile, Lysander arched an eyebrow as, looking like smugness incarnate, Cyrus dismounted and strode over.
Faolán appeared at my side, giving me a once-over. “We had it,” he grumbled as Cyrus drew his sword from the Horror’s head and raised it with a flourish.
The effect was slightly ruined when he turned and eyed Faolán’s claws, a sneer marring his victorious grin.
Cyrus was a prick. But I didn’t give a shit who killed the beast or got the glory. As long as these things were gone and the city safe, anyone could finish the damn things.
As he remounted, waved, and returned to his elite guard, someone tugged on my sleeve.
“Bastian?”
My eyes skipped over her at first, that wraith magic at work. But I knew Orpha’s voice, and I followed it, however much my gaze tried not to. Mouth pinched, she looked up at me.
“What are you doing here?” I’d sent her to catch up with the patrol who should’ve been guarding the edge of Horror territory.
“We found that patrol. They’re dead. Looks like Ascendants got them.”
What the fuck were they playing at, interfering with something that kept usallsafe?
“On our way back, we found the Horrors. We’ve been trailing them the past day, trying to stop them or overtake them so you’d at least have a warning.” She shook her head.
We could’ve prepared. Stopped the festivities, ensured people were evacuated to safety.
“All the wardstones on this side of the territory had been removed. We replaced what we could, but…” Another shake of her head as her eyebrows clashed together.
I wiped off my sword. “Why do you think it’s Hydra Ascendant and not just an accident?”
“I caught one of them moving the wards to line the road. He’s here. Though not in the best shape.” She smiled, sharp teeth glinting as she nodded towards the city walls. “I tried asking him a few questions myself. Didn’t want to talk, though. I’m sure the Serpent can persuade him.”
An Ascendant. And she’d caught him interfering with the wards designed to keep the Horrors away from civilisation. Lining the road…
Funnelling them here.
