“There is at least one more making a run at Lethe,” Saion said, and my free hand curled into a fist. “Nektas and Orphine are fending him off, but Nyktos, my man, it…” Saion swallowed, shaking his head as he turned at the waist, he thrust a hand over his head as the archers along the Rise fired another volley of arrows. “He’shere.”
My skin chilled as Ash halted.
No.
He couldn’t mean Kolis.
But the pale tightness at the corners of Saion’s mouth, the pulsing eather in his too-wide, too-brighteyes… And the way he choked as he continued sent a deeper, stronger wave of dread through me.
Through Ash.
Shadows immediately blossomed under Ash’s flesh. “Kolis?”
Saion gripped his sword. “Kyn.”
Every part of me went still. “Kyn?” I uttered, glancing at the Rise as guards raced along it. If Kyn were here with Kolis’s draken and his dakkais…
“He came before the dakkais, looking for you—for both of you,” Saion said. “Surprised the guards—surprised all of us.” He started turning from us but stopped. “There was nothing we could do. He’s a Primal.” He bent suddenly, clasping his side as he dragged in a deep breath. “The fucker just—” Saion choked and then said no more.
He couldn’t as he gnashed his teeth together, dragging a hand—a bloodied hand—over his face.
Picking up on what Saion was feeling, Ash inhaled sharply, his skin thinning even further. Energy charged the air, and the embers in my chest hummed and shook.
Ash started walking toward the west courtyard. I followed, my unease amplifying and growing.
Saion caught my arm as I passed him. “Don’t,” he rasped. “You don’t want to see this.”
I stilled, my chest rising and falling in short, shallow breaths. A part of me wanted to listen to his warning because I knew that something had happened. Something bad. An act thatSaion wished he hadn’t seen.
But I couldn’t.
Because Ash wouldn’t.
I slipped my arm free. Saion’s curse got lost in the order for another barrage of arrows. I hurried, catching up to Ash as I scanned the skies for the draken, seeing no sign of him.
The air smelled different here. It carried a…a hint of damp metal. A recognizable scent. Blood.Death.
Oh, gods.
Suddenly, I was in Saion’s place, wanting to stop Ash from discovering what awaited. “Ash,” I called out.
He didn’t stop.
Not until he rounded the corner of the palace. Then he did. Hejerked, stumbling back a step. I’d never seen himstumble. Fear of what he’d seen seized me as I crossed the short distance between us, seeing dark red across the gray, cracked soil and discarded swords. Streams of red. Splatters of crimson. Puddles of blood.
Ash threw his arm out, blocking me, but it was too late.
I saw…
I sawthem.
On pikes, drilled into the ground. Hands and arms bound. Their mangled skin and torn-open chests empty of hearts. Throats slashed to the bone. Others were cut so deeply that their heads were no longer on their shoulders but the ground.
The embers hummed in response to the death. To the utter lack of life as I dragged my gaze over faces I didn’t recognize, lifeless eyes of those I’d passed in the courtyard or saw training with Ash. I looked down.
Fair hair. Sharp, bloodless features. Lifeless, dull amber eyes.
That was his…that washishead.