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

broke and letting out a sharp exhalation, she retreated from him, gauntlet still raised in readiness for an attack.

“What was that?” she hissed, looking from Lukys to Sophia, then back at Cara. “It…it was like he was in my mind.”

“The Voice of the Tangata,” Cara replied, still frowning. “Lukys has it, though it has become far more powerful since I knew him in Fogmore.” She looked to Sophia. “And it should not be able to have such an effect on a human.”

Erika watched the Anahera a moment, then shaking herself, she swung on Lukys once more. “How can you say they’re on our side?” she hissed. Flinging out a hand, she pointed to the south, in the direction of the approaching armies. “Don’t you know what’s happening out there, the danger that marches upon this city? Their kind are slaughtering people all across Flumeer.”

“I know,” Lucky replied, refusing to retreat from the rage in her eyes, nor the fear behind it. “And the Anahera too, if the rumours are true.” He looked pointedly at Cara. “But it is not the Anahera, nor the Tangata, who are our true enemy.” He swallowed, staring at Erika, recalling the darkness of the tunnels they had uncovered, the stench of rot and death thick on the air. The creatures that had stalked them in that darkness. “Do you remember what we found…that day beneath the earth?”

Erika started at his words, her eyes widening, revealing her shock. For a moment, he thought she would deny his words. She had been knocked unconscious during that conflict, had only caught a glimpse of the Old Ones before Cara had slain them.

Then the former Archivist lowered her fist, the light dying from her gauntlet, and she nodded.

“So you have seen her too,” Erika whispered.

23

The Fallen

For days, Adonis and Maisie followed behind the Tangatan army, trailing in the shadow of their conquest, surviving off the scraps they left behind, watching, waiting. There was nothing else for them to do, no alternative path either could take. Afterall, where else could they go? The lands behind them belonged to the Tangata, but they were mostly empty now, their inhabitants swept up in the wake of Maya’s power.

And so Adonis followed in the wake of his former mate, tracking her passage through the human lands. Maisie’s people had retreated before the might of Maya’s army, avoiding a pitched battle and forcing the Old One to give chase if she wished to bring the half-blood queen to heel.

Even so, they still found bodies scattered across the hilly landscape, the remains of skirmishes between the Tangata and the enemy, only…strange how Adonis had never noticed before, how difficult it was to distinguish between the two in death, how similar his people looked, lying side by side with the humans.

A week after his fallout with Maya, Adonis’s wounds had at least partially mended. The same could not be said for Maisie with her human frailty, and after a few hours walking each day, she often resorted to her makeshift crutch for support. Or failing that, his shoulder.

Despite his own improvement, it would be obvious to any they crossed that neither was up for a fight. Thankfully, the attention of Adonis’s brethren remained focused on the human army. Whenever they drew near the fringes of the Tangatan camp, he could sense their rage, like the distant pounding of drums, sounding to the beat of their conductor, to the Voice of Maya.

Even at the edges of her influence, Adonis found his own emotions stirring, his fists clenching tighter, his anger rising at the human’s incessant chatting. Fortunately, Maisie tended to grow quiet at those times too. She might not hear the Voice of Maya, but that did not entirely spare her from the Old One’s influence. Adonis couldn’t help but wonder if it was that power which had broken the human army. If Maya could stoke the rage of so many Tangata, might she also be capable of influencing the humans, of fuelling their fears until they fled?

Such a use of Voice had long been forbidden amongst his people, even on the smaller scales capable of by the Tangata. Adonis had argued against such restrictions, but their former Matriarch had denied him, enforcing the principles of ancestors long since perished.

Now, watching the madness that had consumed his people, Adonis at last saw her wisdom. His people might have won the battle for the river, might have driven the humans back, might even soon claim a final victory…but what had they lost in doing so, in bowing to the greater power of Maya? What remained of his people now but a mindless mob, thirsty for the blood of their enemies?

No, this victory had cost his people their soul.

Standing atop a hill looking out across the next valley, Adonis looked upon the Tangatan horde—and the walls of the city that towered beyond. Mildeth, Maisie called it, the capital of the Flumeeren kingdom. The humans and their half-blood queen had finally run out of places to hide, though…they had not yet entered the city.

Instead, they had readied fortifications beneath the great walls and turned to face the Tangata. Perhaps suspecting another of the queen’s traps, Maya had not yet attacked, but Adonis was sure the Old One would not wait long. Above, he caught glimpses of shadows in the sky, the winged Anahera scouting out the enemy formations, no doubt.

Shivering, Adonis tore his eyes from the mass of Tangata and looked to the human, Maisie. Even after three days, he was still not sure what to make of her. Half the time they’d spent together, he found himself regretting sparing her life. She spoke constantly now, her voice grating on his nerves day and night, and her presence only slowed him now his wounds were healing. Perhaps he should put the creature out of her misery. After all, there would be nothing left for her kind after Maya’s inevitable victory. Death would be a mercy, rather than the enslavement