Destiny's Blood by Marie Bilodeau (best authors to read .TXT) 📗

Yoma!

“Yoma!” Layela screamed, pushing her sister aside as the last of the mist vanished. She was not quick enough to avoid the blow herself, twisting but still too slow. A tight grip closed around her throat and a knife hovered between two ribs below her left breast. The blade lingered but, save for the prick of its tip, did not pierce her.

“Layela!” she heard Yoma scream. She fell to her knees, looking into Dunkat’s familiar eyes — familiar, but different, laced with a hatred that hadn’t been there before.

A dark wave suddenly extended from him, seconds before she heard Yoma grunt behind her. She wanted to turn and make sure she was all right, but Dunkat held her chin. He lowered his face near hers, raising her eyes to look deep into them as though seeking out the ether. She managed to bring up her arms, trying to pull him off her, but his hand still held the knife that pricked her tender skin.

“The ironic thing is,” Dunkat said, his breath reeking of tar, “that this is the ceremonial knife used to kill a twin at birth.”

With those words he drove the knife home, sheathing it between her ribs. Layela gasped at the pain. He still clutched her chin in his hand, hungry for the spark of pain in her eyes. She tasted blood, felt her body grow warm and heavy. Mists crowded her vision for a moment, showing her own death, which she had failed to avoid. Her last hope was that she had saved her sister. The last thing she saw was victory flashing in Dunkat’s eyes.

CHAPTER 42

Layela,” Yoma pushed herself back up, forcing her bruised body to move. Zortan was beside her in an instant. Dunkat crouched near Layela’s crumpled body, as though waiting to see if she would rise.

“Get away from her!” Yoma screamed and ran towards him. Zortan grabbed her arm and flung her back behind him just as Dunkat extended his arm again, sending another dark wave towards them. This time Zortan was ready, and he held up his sword and sliced it to harmless mist.

Dunkat looked at the sword with interest, and Zortan swung it downwards. Ether crackled in an arc towards Dunkat, hitting him square in the chest and shoving him away from Layela.

Zortan quickly closed the gap and stood between Layela and Dunkat. Yoma ran to her sister.

“Layela,” she whispered, rolling her onto her back. Her face was pale and drawn, blood drying at the corner of her lips. The knife was deep, and Yoma didn’t dare to pull it out for fear her sister would bleed to death.

“Layela.” She bent closer, feeling a slight, thready pulse and her sister’s laboured breath. “I think he pierced a lung,” Yoma said. The loss her visions had promised crystallized as she spoke.

“Take her and go, quickly!” Zortan said without turning. Yoma put Layela’s arm around her shoulder and whispered comforting words as she dragged her sister toward the temple.

“One down,” she heard Dunkat say, although two voices seemed to be coming from his mouth. “One more to go.” She turned briefly to see Zortan stopping another wave of darkness, ether crackling in the air as they collided.

“Go! Now!” Zortan screamed and Yoma moved faster, air like fire in her lungs as she stepped onto the bridge. She wanted to scream at Zortan to follow them, remembering his promise that he would die before them, but she needed all of her strength just to carry Layela safely to the temple.

She pushed harder, the ether behind her so heavy it sapped the air around them.

She fought back tears as she crossed the bridge, looking down to see Layela’s dangling hand covered in her own blood.

i

The creatures came without pause and Avienne clutched two knives. She downed another close one. The ether in the knives was more powerful than she had dared to hope. Another creature leapt through the vanishing smoke and she struck, but was misbalanced as she swung around to slay another.

She fell hard.

“Off!” she screamed as she felt her leg being sucked in. “Once is enough!” She threw a knife into the creature, and then quickly tried to retrieve it. Before she could get to it, another creature had already moved up into its spot.

“That’s less than three seconds,” she mumbled, backing up, and used the wall to push herself to her feet. Ardin swung his sword as he closed ranks with her, sweat plastering his hair. She felt pride swell in her breast.

“So, I was thinking,” Avienne said casually.

“Really?” Ardin sounded surprised. Avienne wished she could kick him without getting him killed.

“Maybe I’d like you to teach me how to use one of those swords,” she finished.

He grinned, and nodded without breaking his stride.

“Consider it a deal,” he said, his words broken by increasing fatigue. A creature closed on him, and Avienne threw her last knife. Ardin screamed and lowered his blade. Below them the ramparts cracked, and more screams could be heard. The creatures were through and feeding on the few survivors of Mirial.

On the horizon, the moon was now black, a red outline around it. The setting moon and rising sun were forming an eclipse, and the light that broke through was scorching the hills in the distance. Whatever life remained burned at the simple touch of the sun’s rays.

The sun was rising.

And there was nowhere left to hide.

i

The creatures came in waves, like slime oozing between the buildings of the capital, which meant the Malavants had failed and probably already fallen. Zortan pushed the thought out of his mind and concentrated on his enemy.

Black lightning sizzled from Groosh’s fingers and crackled on Zortan’s sword, so powerful that it nicked the blade. Zortan could feel his strength chip away with each new attack, through the deep link he shared with his sword after years of wielding its powers.

“I thought it was you,” Dunkat said, taking a step forward. Zortan placed his right