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

Hope.

With Maya, we will forge a new world. The Tangata will be restored in all their glory. None can prevent it, not humanity, not even the Anahera.

The footsteps stopped beside him and Lukys looked up. A silhouette towered overhead, blacking out the stars, the moon—though beyond he could see Sophia struggling, arm outstretched, a desperate grief in her eyes.

Hope.

Lukys met Adonis’s steely gaze.

Are you ready to meet your doom, human?

His fingers closed around the wooden haft lying beside him.

“My name is Lukys,” he hissed.

Adonis’s eyes widened as the spear tip slammed into his chest. His hands came up, but Lukys did not relent, driving the blade deeper, screaming his rage, until the point burst from his enemy’s back. A growl came from Adonis’s throat and the terrible eyes fixed on Lukys, but skewered by the spear, they no longer seemed to hold any power.

A cry bubbling from his throat, Adonis stumbled back, tearing the weapon from Lukys’s hands. Gasping, he clutched at the spear, fingers curling around the wooden haft. Another scream echoed through the courtyard as he began to pull.

Heart pounding in his chest, Lukys watched as the Tangata drew the bloody spear from his body and tossed it aside. Grey eyes fixed again on Lukys, but as Adonis took a step, his knees buckled and he crumpled face-first to the cobbles.

A groan slipped from Lukys’s lips as he looked at the fallen Tangata. His own legs shook as he tried to take a step. A wave of exhaustion swept over him then, and suddenly he found himself slumped against the bricks. Whispers came from the others and a moment later a hand touched his shoulder.

Lukys.

He flinched away from the voice, looking up to find the bruised and battered Sophia crouching beside him. His insides twisted as he looked into her eyes. How could such honest eyes have lied so easily? All this time, she’d hidden the true secret of the Tangata, of the power they possessed. The power that Adonis had used so easily to subdue them.

She reached for him again, but he shrank away, and a frown creased her purpled forehead. “Lukys, what’s wrong?”

Tears burned in his eyes as he looked at her, seeing her pain, and a lump lodged in his throat. He swallowed it down, forcing himself to speak the words.

“Stay away from me.”

29

The Fugitive

“There was a spy,” Erika said.

“He was a pawn,” Romaine replied. The Calafe was still crouched beside Cara. “The queen had his family abducted, forced him to leave markers for us to follow you. Where is he?”

Erika’s heart twisted and she looked away, her eyes falling to the soft glow of the gauntlet. “Dead,” she whispered. He’d passed before they could drag him into the shelter of the rocks, succumbing to whatever internal damage her magic had done.

Romaine cursed, but Maisie spoke before he could reprimand them. “He didn’t know what kind of poison it was anyway.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Romaine snapped. “He didn’t want to be here.”

“None of us want to be here, Calafe,” Maisie replied coolly. “But we each made our choices.”

Romaine fell silent at the Gemaho’s words and Erika did not miss the grimace that touched the warrior’s face. She glanced towards the sounds of fighting. The men that had attacked might not be wearing Flumeeren colours, but the archer who led them had been with Amina back at the Illmoor Fortress. The same man she’d found so familiar, though she still could not remember from where.

“Can’t you stop them with your magic?” Romaine asked from the ground.

Erika shook herself from her stupor and scowled. “Oh yes, I hadn’t thought of that,” she hissed. The anger left her as quickly as it had come. “I’ve done what I can, using Maisie’s magic to hide me, but your friend with the crossbow figured us out.” She lifted a hand to the bandage Maisie had wrapped around her arm. Thankfully, the arrow had only grazed her.

“Then what’s the plan?” the warrior growled.

Erika and Maisie exchanged a glance, before looking back at the warrior. “The city of the Gods is close, we think,” Erika whispered, gesturing at Cara. “If anyone can save her, surely it’s her people.”

Romaine was silent for a moment. “What about those men out there?”

“I can conceal us long enough to get away,” Maisie replied.

“I wasn’t talking about Yasin’s men,” Romaine said, glaring at the spy.

Maisie sighed. “We cannot save them, Calafe. At least they will die knowing they were protecting a Goddess. Maybe that will give them some comfort.”

“I’m sure they’d prefer not to die at all,” the Calafe snapped, but Erika could see the defeat in his eyes.

Silently, she looked Romaine up and down, noting the bruises on his face, the wounds and his missing hand. He’d fought well against the Flumeerens, but…

“Can you carry Cara?” she asked softly. “She’s…heavier than she looks.”

“I heard that,” muttered Cara. But even as Erika smiled, the whisper turned to a moan and she coughed, sending blood splattering across the rocks.

Romaine nodded, but he hesitated as he reached for the Goddess. “Can you…do something about your wings, Cara?” he asked. “I don’t want to damage them.”

The Goddess didn’t reply, but her face tightened, and the auburn wings contracted slightly. She only managed to half fold them before her strength gave out.

Erika swallowed, tears springing to her eyes at the sight of Cara in such pain. She moved alongside Romaine and they shared a look. Something passed between them, and together they rolled the Goddess onto her side.

It was the first time Erika had taken a closer look at her wings. They sprouted from either side of Cara’s spine, though lower on her back than she’d thought, stretching upwards then folding back down to allow them to fold flat. At some point Cara had cut an extra hole in her shirt, almost like a third sleeve, to allow them freedom.

“Her jacket,” Romaine grunted.

Erika nodded. Her jacket could cover her wings and hold