The impact rattled me from the tips of my toes to the top of my hooded head, knocking a low grunt out of me. I stumbled forward, catching myself with my palms before I kissed the ground. I remained there for a couple of seconds, dragging in deep breaths as surprisingly dull spikes of pain darted through my knees and hips. That should’ve hurt more.
But I did have Primal blood in me.
Straightening slowly, I then took off for the gate, knowing there wasn’t that much time between patrols. Within minutes, the packed earth gave way to the crunch of gray grass, and then I was under the canopy of leaves the color of blood and no longer within view of the House of Haides.
And I was one obstacle closer to fulfilling my duty—my true destiny.
Chapter 6
Killing Kolis wouldn’t be easy.
Obviously.
Even if Kolis recognized Sotoria’s soul—saw me as her—I doubted it would be as simple as me plunging a dagger into his chest. I would have to be sure that he loved me first, and I couldn’t even let myself think about what that would involve as I ran under the canopy of crimson leaves. If I allowed myself to entertain those ideas, I would be vomiting all over myself. So, I filed that away.
I didn’t even know what killing Kolis would do—what kind of impact it would have on Iliseeum and the mortal realm—but Holland wouldn’t have told me what he had if it were something catastrophic. The fact that Nyktos was a Primal of Death must mean there would still be balance.
Until I died.
Which would likely be as soon as I succeeded in thrusting my shadowstone dagger into Kolis’s chest. I imagined that he, too, had draken that would immediately retaliate.
But right now, luck was on my side for once. I entered the Dying Woods without any issues. Probably because I’d run the whole way. The hood of my cloak had slipped, but I left it downas I doubted I would run into anyone in an area occupied by Shades—souls who had entered the Shadowlands but refused to face judgment for deeds committed when they were alive by passing between the Pillars of Asphodel. I had yet to see a Shade, and I really hoped that didn’t change, considering I’d heard they could bebitey.
The muscles in my legs and stomach were beginning to cramp, forcing me to slow as I continuously scanned the thick rows of bent and broken trees. Each breath I drew reminded me of the Rot—stale lilacs. At least there was no ache in my jaw and temples or dizziness. I had no idea how long I had before the mixture of herbs—chasteberry, peppermint, and a whole bunch I couldn’t remember—wore off, and the effects of the Culling set in once more. But when it did, I would have to do what I always did.
Deal with it.
Just like I knew Ezra would if she learned there was nothing to be done about the Rot. We might not share even a drop of blood, but she was resilient. Like me, she wouldn’t give up. Nor would she pretend as if the end weren’t coming, or hope for a magical fix like I knew my mother would. Ezra would do everything in her power to ensure that as many people as possible survived for as long as they could.
According to Holland, she was already doing that. Even if I could never get word to her, she was taking necessary steps—
A rattle from above drew my gaze to the dead, gnarled, and leafless branches. I jerked to a complete stop as a hawk—an enormous silver one—glided through the twisted branches, its massive wings spread wide, slowing its descent. The bird of prey landed on one of the limbs, its sharp, dark talons digging into the dead bark.
It looked just like the hawk I’d unintentionally healed in the Red Woods. But then again, I imagined most did. I was still surprised to see any animals in the Shadowlands other than horses and whatever the hell the dakkais were.
While I was relieved that it wasn’t a Shade perched above me, silver hawks were notoriously fierce predators. I hadn’t believed my old nursemaid Odetta when she’d told me stories of how they could pick up small animals and even children. But now, seeing one up close twice, I totally believed the hawkscould do just that—maybe even snatch a slender adult.
I’d never been more grateful for my love of bread and pastries than right then.
The silver hawk slowly lowered its wings as I took a tentative step forward, hoping it remained right where it was and didn’t try to make a meal out of me. The last thing I wanted was to harm any animal—well, except barrats and serpents. Those, I’d gladly kill all day and night.
I’d taken no more than three steps when the hawk’s head swiveled toward me, its sharply hooked beak tipping down. Eyes full of intelligence locked onto mine—eyes that weren’t black like the bird I’d healed, but a vibrant, unnatural, intense shade of blue even brighter than the goddess Penellaphe’s eyes. It was a color I’d never seen in a bird before.
The hawk let out a soft chirping sound, reminding me of a less powerful version of the staggering call the draken made, and then it suddenly launched from the branch. Wings spread wide, the hawk darted straight toward me. Heart lurching, I quickly crouched, reaching for the dagger in my boot. I jerked the weapon free just as the hawk veered suddenly, swooping over my head—
A shrill shriek of pain sent a chill crawling down my spine. Rising, I whirled, swallowing a scream as fear exploded in my chest.
A heavy gray mass convulsed a few feet from me, flailing as the silver hawk sank its blade-sharp talons into something shaped like a head. The thing rapidly became moresolidas the hawk’s heavy wings beat across shoulders and a chest. Arms became visible, and hands and fingers made of shadow reached for the hawk, but the bird tore at wispy fingers, ripping off tendrils of gray that floated toward the grayish-brown ground.
Icy air kissed the nape of my neck, sending a bolt of adrenaline through me. I reacted out of instinct, shutting down the fear. Spinning around, I swept up with the dagger. My eyes went wide as the blade metresistancewithin the churning, throbbing shadow. The thing screamed as it jerked back. Pieces of shadow broke off, spraying into the air like blood as the thing lifted off the ground,flyinginto the limbs, just as another darted through the trees, its tendrils of shadow billowing several feet above the ground.
I had a sinking suspicion that I knew exactly what I was dealing with.
Shades.
And, somehow, everyone had failed to mention that they could basicallyfly.
I leapt to the side as a smoky arm swept out, then turned to see that the Shade the hawk had attacked was now gone as the hawk flew down, dragging its talons through the new Shade. Was the hawk actually helping me? Or just reacting to the bigger threat?