Dreams of Fury: Descendants of the Fall Book IV by Hodges, Aaron (most important books to read .txt) 📗

as Adonis sucked in a breath, fighting off the call of the Tangatan rage. He could not afford the madness now, not if he was to lead his people.

Movement came from nearby, followed by shouts and a sharp twang as something fired in the darkness. Adonis spun and something hissed through the space he had occupied. A clacking sound followed that Adonis recognised as the reloading of a human crossbow.

Roaring, he charged towards the noise. From behind, he sensed his brethren as the first reached the top of the rope. Adonis need only keep the enemy occupied a few moments longer.

The human with the crossbow saw him coming and tossed weapon aside, its wire still only half loaded. He fumbled for his spear, but Adonis caught the wooden haft before the man could bring it to bear. Fear showed in the human’s eyes as Adonis tore the weapon from his hands, but to his credit, the man did not flee. He was reaching for the dagger on his belt when Adonis’s fist struck his skull. Despite the metal helmet worn by the human, he dropped without a sound, and Adonis turned in search of his next victim.

The first of his brethren had reached the deck now, but as Adonis watched, a door at the rear of ship burst open and humans half-dressed in armour poured from the darkness below. In moments, a dozen of the creatures stood against him, weapons held high, dull eyes scanning the darkness for hint of the creatures that had come upon them. The few lanterns burning were not enough for the pitiful humans to spy the Tangata in the shadows. Adonis might have laughed.

Instead he roared, and charged the group of humans.

The soldiers reacted instantly, swinging towards the sound. A dozen was too many for Adonis, even in the dark, but his charge drew their attention away from where his brethren still emerged from the dark waters.

Then Adonis was amongst them, slicing through their ranks like a dagger, fists flashing, leaping and dancing between their blows, striking soft flesh and hard steel wherever his foes lowered their guards. Cries of pain filled the night and in those first seconds several of the humans crumpled, clutching at broken ribs or shattered kneecaps.

Still roaring, Adonis ducked and weaved, narrowly avoiding the desperate thrusts of steel weapons. The human’s found their spears almost useless in such close proximity, and several of the more intelligent tossed the weapons aside and drew short swords.

It was one these that spilt the first of Adonis’s blood that night. He cursed as the blade sliced his cheek and leapt back, twisting away from an awkward spear thrust in the process. Heart racing, he felt some of the rage leave him, reason returning. The human’s blow had been just inches from his throat. It had almost ended him, snuffed out his life and left his children alone, with only Maya to raise them.

For some reason, that thought chilled Adonis and he took another step back from the humans, allowing them a moment to regroup—and for his brethren to finally join the battle. Their silent cries echoed through the night, unheard by the humans, so that they did not turn as the Tangata charged.

Adonis smiled, satisfied as his brethren fell upon the humans from behind. Of the fourth and fifth generations, human bones still shattered beneath their blows. Despite their resilience until now, the humans crumped before the surprise attack. Screams rent the night as they scattered—and one by one were hunted down by their Tangatan foes.

His victory achieved, Adonis was about to join in the hunt, when a figure stepped from the nearby cabin. Garbed all in steel and wearing a helmet engraved with a golden crown, the figure raised a sword high—and charged a group of Tangata. Distracted by the human soldier they had been tormenting, Adonis’s brethren scattered at the sudden assault, though not before one had fallen to the newcomer’s blade. Spinning to face the others Tangata, the human raised their blade to the sky.

“Soldiers of Flumeer!” The woman’s voice lifted above the chaos, calm, determined. “To me!”

11

The Prisoner

Erika sat up in the cage as a scream carried down from above. Her vision swam at the sudden movement and she would have thrown up, if there had been anything left in her stomach. The long days without food had more than taken their toll and now she barely had the strength to keep her eyes open. How she wished that they’d never left the mountains. Maybe she and Cara might have found peace somewhere amidst the endless peaks, far from the queen’s darkness, from the rage of the Old One and her Tangata.

But no, instead Erika had brought them to a land torn by war, following the futile hope she might help her people, might find a way to save the very kingdom that had turned its back on her as a child.

She had doomed not only herself, but Cara too.

Erika shook herself as another scream came from the ceiling, followed by the ring of weapons. Erika struggled to concentrate through her exhaustion. The ship was under attack, but who in the kingdoms of humanity still had the power to threaten the Flumeerens? Had King Nguyen escaped after all?

A chill touched Erika as she recalled the queen’s words.

So they have come. It is earlier than I’d hoped, but I am not unprepared.

No, not the Gemaho at all. The Old One and her Tangata. Erika must have been locked in the hold longer than she’d imagined, if the creatures were already here, though it was a shorter route to cut through the fallen lands of the Calafe than the roundabout way she and Cara had taken through Gemaho.

Her stomach twisted at the memory of the Old One, at how the Anahera had bowed to her will, the way she had looked at Erika. The creature loathed humanity above all else. No matter what preparations Amina had made, whatever strength she had