Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II by Hodges, Aaron (good english books to read .txt) 📗

Archivist was standing before him. Despite their inherent danger, the rage Romaine had been nurturing over the past weeks boiled to the surface. This was the woman who had betrayed him who had kidnapped Cara and sold her loyalty to a foreign nation. His fist tightened around the hilt of his sword and he clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to drive the blade through her chest.

“Cara needs you,” the Archivist hissed.

The words cut through Romaine’s anger like a knife. He lowered his sword, heart racing. Erika’s lips were pursed and there was fear in her eyes. Blood was beginning to seep through a bandage wrapped around her upper arm, though she didn’t seem to notice. Light glowed from the gauntlet she wore on her arm, and Romaine frowned, still wondering how she had fooled the queen. But there was no time for questions now. Only one thing mattered.

“Where is she?” he growled.

Erika glanced at him, and she hesitated as their eyes met. Romaine wondered if it was guilt he saw in her eyes, but she quickly broke away, nodding towards the cluster of boulders the soldiers were protecting.

“In there,” she said.

Movement came from the shadows and a second woman stepped out from behind a boulder. She held a globe of brilliant white in one hand, though there was no source of fire. Magic, like Erika’s, he presumed. For the first time, he looked around, noticing the dome that enclosed the area before the boulders. Beyond, the soldiers still fought, but they looked indistinct now, as though viewed through a film. Putting the connections together in his mind, he faced the newcomer.

“How are you doing that?” he asked.

The woman only raised an eyebrow. “Is that really what you want to talk about right now?”

Romaine shook his head, and stepping past him, Erika gestured into the boulders. “Come on, Maisie is hiding us, but she won’t last much longer.” She hesitated, looking over her shoulder. “And neither will they.”

With that Erika slipped into the shadows. Casting a final glance at the Gemaho soldiers himself, Romaine followed. He felt a pang of guilt at abandoning them, but there was nothing he could do to save them.

The Archivist didn’t ask how he’d come to be there. She had probably guessed he’d come with the Flumeerens. Nor did Romaine hurl accusations. There seemed little point when they might all be just minutes from death.

They didn’t have to go far before Erika came to a stop again. Romaine froze as he saw the figure lying propped against a nearby boulder. Cara’s auburn wings lay limp in the dust and her copper hair stood out in stark relief against her pallid skin. With each inhalation, her eyelids fluttered. She appeared to be unconscious, but as he took a step towards her, she spoke:

“Romaine…” Her voice was like sandpaper, and his name was followed by a soft groan, lines wrinkling her forehead. “I thought…I smelt you.”

A sob tore from Romaine and in a second he was at her side, drawing her into a hug. “I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured.

Pained laughter rasped from the Goddess. “How…?”

“We’ll talk about it later, lass,” Romaine murmured.

He’d never seen her like this, not even when he’d found her injured and alone in Calafe, when the pain of her broken bones had caused her to pass out. Swallowing, he looked at Erika.

“What happened to her?”

Erika shook her head. “She was poisoned.”

27

The Tangata

New Nihelm.

For some reason, Adonis was surprised to find himself looking down upon the city. When he’d left, a part of him had been convinced he would never return, that the Old Ones would slay him when they woke. Looking at Maya standing beside him, he could hardly remember why he’d feared such a thing.

Wearing the clothing of Adonis’s fallen sister, Maya’s slender figure was covered now, though he had come to know it in intimate detail this last week. She had invited him to lie with her their first night, pinning him to the stone. She seemed to delight in his weakness, in her power over his body…his mind.

He could feel her touch on his consciousness now, like the constant beating of a drum, though he could never quite make out the words she whispered. It no longer seemed important.

New Nihelm lay spread out beneath them, its lights glittering on the surrounding waters, waiting. It had taken them just a week to return. They had moved faster without his fallen brethren, and Adonis had found himself the slower of the pair. It did not bother him. He was only thankful she had chosen him.

Maya’s long blonde hair swirled in the breeze as she turned to look on him, dark grey eyes aglow by the rising moon. Your city reeks of humanity, Adonis.

Adonis bowed his head. Yes, he replied deferentially, we have spoken of the Tangata’s weakness. We need them.

No longer, Maya whispered, running a hand across his cheek. Come, it is time your Matriarch and I spoke.

Her gaze returned to the city and despite himself, Adonis shivered. Maya was everything the Matriarch had hoped for—powerful, intelligent, sane. An opportunity to sever themselves from the humans altogether.

Silently, he followed her down the hillside. The southern bridge beckoned and Maya strode across without hesitation, unchallenged. Only as they approached the island did two shadows appear to bar the way.

Who goes there?

The words seemed mere whispers in Adonis’s mind after so many days spent with Maya. The Old One advanced on them, her stride unchecked by their warning, and Adonis hurried to catch her before blood was spilt.

Adonis, he called. He didn’t recognise the guards, but they would know him. There weren’t many of the third generation left now. We have returned from the south.

Confusion shone on the guards’ faces as Maya finally drew to a stop before them. Their eyes flickered from her to Adonis.

Where are the others?

Adonis shook his head. They were lost.

How—

You guard these shores, child? Maya’s voice interrupted, so strong each of the guards leapt back half