Hunt blocked out Ruhn’s screams and cursing. He knew he’d have been in the same state if it had been Bryce out there, being run aground by two dozen dreadwolves. He’d made those sounds once, long ago—when Shahar and Sandriel had plummeted toward the earth, Shahar’s blood streaming—
The glare of the sun on the sea made his head throb. Or maybe that was his injuries and exhaustion. Each flap of his wings sent agony rocking through him, threatening to steal his breath. He took it into his heart, though. Embraced the pain. He deserved every pulse of it.
But there, emerging from the water like a breaching whale …
A shining metal hatch cleared the surface. Then a person burst through it, waving frantically. And Hunt could only wonder if he was hallucinating as he realized it was Tharion signaling to them, urging them on from the narrow exterior deck atop the Depth Charger.
Hunt and Baxian dove, and Ketos leapt onto the nose of the mighty ship, shouting something that the wind devoured.
Toward the coast, angels were gaining speed, closing in. The cool spray of waves stung every inch of Hunt, salt burning in his open wounds. He half fell the last ten feet onto the soaked metal of the ship.
Tharion raced forward, face stark with urgency. “I said land in the hatch!” the mer yelled.
Hunt ground his teeth, but Ruhn had shot to his feet, swaying, dangerously close to falling into the water. “Lidia,” he gasped to Tharion, pointing to the cliffs. He swayed again, and Tharion caught him. Ruhn gripped the mer’s muscled forearm with his good hand. Tharion’s eyes dropped to the prince’s missing hand. The mer paled.
But Ruhn groaned, “You have to help her.”
“This ship can’t get any closer to shore,” Tharion said placatingly.
“Not this ship,” Ruhn snarled with impressive menace. “You.”
Hunt eyed the mountain—the cliff looming like a giant at the distant shore. “Ruhn, even if Lidia can make it to the edge … that’s a deadly drop.” She’d be splattered on the surface of the water.
“Please,” Ruhn said, voice breaking as he scanned Tharion’s face.
Tharion looked to Hunt. Then Baxian. Apparently realized they were in no shape to fly another foot.
Tharion sighed but declared, “Always happy to provide the heroics.” The mer passed the prince over to Baxian, and stripped out of his clothes. Utterly unconcerned by his nudity, the mer leapt into the cobalt swells and, a heartbeat later, his massive tail splashed the surface. He didn’t look back before he disappeared under the water, a flash of orange against the blue.
Baxian began murmuring a prayer to Ogenas. It was all Hunt could do to join him.
Maybe this was his fault, too. If he’d stopped Bryce, stopped the others, from going up against the Asteri … none of them would be in this position. None of this would have happened.
But Ruhn stayed silent throughout. Eyes fixed on the shore, face pale as death. As if he could see all the way to the shifter on the cliffs, racing for her life.
Every breath burned Lidia’s lungs.
Each galloping step was uphill, nothing but dry, treacherous stones and snaking roots underneath. So many roots, all intent on tripping her delicate hooves.
This hadn’t been part of the plan. She’d been a fool to take that road, not knowing where it would end, that it would strand her in the arid foothills with a mountain to climb.
But Ruhn and the angels had made it. Would be on the ship by now.
Irithys had made it out, to go do what needed doing. At least her trust in the queen hadn’t been misplaced. At least that much had gone right.
Snarls filled the scrub behind her, and Lidia recognized them all.
Her dreadwolves. Her soldiers. The deepest snarl, unnervingly close behind, was Mordoc.
Lidia pushed herself faster, harder. Found a switchback trail—a deer path, ironically enough—up the mountain. A legion of angels loomed like thunderclouds in the sky.
She had to get to the water. If she could make it to the sea, she might stand a chance at swimming to the ship.
Brush snapped to her left, and Lidia leapt toward a boulder just as Mordoc crashed through the scrub and trees, jaws snapping.
He missed her by inches.
Mordoc rebounded against the rock below and leapt upward again. He’d clear the boulder and be on her soon. Right on his tail were Vespasian and Gedred, his favored torturers and hunters—her favored torturers and hunters. Foam streamed from their maws as they scaled the rocks.
Lidia leapt again, higher onto the boulder, then atop it. The wolves couldn’t jump as far, but she didn’t wait to see them try as she dashed across the rock’s broad top, then upward again.
Branches and thorns ripped at her fur, her legs.
The scent of her own blood filled her nose, coppery and thick. Her hooves slipped against the loose stones, the sound like bones clacking. There had to be some path around the side of the mountain, some way to round it and get down its other side to the water below—
There. Up another quarter mile. A ledge that curved around the mountain. She plunged ahead, and the snarls behind her closed in again. She had to get to the ledge. Had to reach the water.
She couldn’t cry in this body, but she nearly did as she at last reached the curve around the mountain. As the ledge jutted out before her.
Like a long finger, it stretched high above the sea and rock five hundred feet below. The rest of the mountain was a sheer cliff face.
There was no other way down. No way back.
From the way her hooves dug into the stone, she could tell the rock was some sort of soft material that would crumble in her hands if she tried to climb down the cliff in her humanoid form. That is, if Mordoc and the others didn’t shoot her off it first.
Mordoc’s vicious snarl sounded behind her, and Lidia looked back, then, right as he shifted. The wolves behind him did the same.
So Lidia shifted into her humanoid form as well. Panting hard, reorienting her senses to this body, she backed a step toward the edge.
Vespasian, at Mordoc’s left, drew a rifle. Pointed it at her.
“This seems familiar,” Mordoc panted, a wild light in his eyes. “What was it that you told that thunderbird bitch?”
Lidia backed away another step, as Gedred, too, drew and aimed her rifle.
Mordoc spat on the dry ground, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Are you faster than a bullet? That’s what you asked Sofie Renast that night.” Her captain laughed, too-large teeth flashing. “Let’s see, Lidia. Let’s see how fast you are now, you traitorous cunt.”
Lidia’s gaze darted between Vespasian and Gedred. She found no mercy on their faces. Only hate and rage. They were dreadwolves who had let a hind lead them. And she had betrayed them.
Now they’d make her pay.
The shots wouldn’t be to kill her. They’d lame her, as she had done with Sofie Renast, so they could drag her back to the Asteri to be ripped to shreds. Either by them or Pollux.
The shouts of the aerial legion drew closer from above. Was Pollux with them? Leading the swarm of angels to grab her?
Death lay behind her, at the end of the ledge. Swift, forgiving death.
The sort she’d be denied by the Asteri. If she could make it to the end of the cliff … it would be fast.
She’d fall, and her head would splatter on the rocks, and she’d likely feel very little. Perhaps a swift burst of pain, then nothing.
Even if she would never see what she had worked for, hoped for.
Lidia shoved that thought behind her. As she had always done.
Gedred knelt, rifle braced against a shoulder. Ready to fire.
So Lidia reached up to the silver torque around her neck. A flick of her fingers and it snapped free. “Since we’re repeating the past, I suppose I’ll tell you what Sofie told me that night.” She flung the torque, that hateful collar, into the dirt and smiled at Mordoc, at the dreadwolves. “Go to Hel.”
Then she broke into a run. Faster than she’d ever sprinted in this human form, hurtling toward the cliff edge. Two bullets landed at her heels, and she veered to the side, easily dodging the third.
She’d taught these dreadwolves everything they knew. She used it against them now.
“Shoot that bitch!” Mordoc screamed at his snipers.
Lidia’s life diluted into each step. Each pump of her arms. Bullets sprayed rock and shrapnel at her feet. Only a few more steps.
“END HER!” Mordoc roared.
But the cliff edge was there—and then she was over it.
Lidia sobbed as she leapt, as the open air embraced her. As the rocks and surf spread below.
For a heartbeat, she thought the water might be rising to meet her.
But that was her. Falling.
A gunshot cracked like a thunderhead breaking. Pain ruptured through her chest, bone shattering, red washing over her vision.
Lidia let out a choked, bloody laugh as she died.
