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

Romaine was already moving.

The bolt took him full in the chest, just as it had for Lorene. For the briefest of seconds, he felt nothing, only a rush of triumph, that he had stopped the arrow meant for Cara, that he had succeeded.

Then the pain struck, a searing, burning agony. It blossomed in his lungs and spread outwards like the tendrils of a rose, tearing and rending through his body, through his very being.

He staggered, then slumped to one knee as the strength went from his legs. Somewhere, someone was screaming, but he could barely hear them over the pounding in his ears. His vision swam and suddenly he was lying on the cold stones, staring up at Yasin. The man looked surprised, as though he couldn’t quite believe what Romaine had done. Before he could reload his crossbow, a blurred figure attacked with sword in hand, and the two danced out of Romaine’s field of vision.

The tear-streaked face of Cara replaced them as she fell to her knees beside him. She reached out a hand and her lips moved, but Romaine could no longer hear what she said. The agony was still growing, threatening to sweep him away on its irresistible tide. But he couldn’t let go yet—not until he knew she was safe.

“Run!” he tried to gasp, though he couldn’t know whether the word actually left his mouth.

Romaine! Inexplicably, Cara’s voice spoke into his mind, a keening, howling sound that pained him beyond even the arrow in his chest. Romaine, please, no!

Tears burned in Romaine’s eyes and somehow he lifted a hand, grasping at her jacket, desperate for her to flee, but his lips no longer seemed to work. He spoke them in his mind instead, a desperate prayer to the Goddess crouched beside him.

Cara, please, you have to run!

32

The Soldier

Lukys gasped as his head broke the surface. A pounding began in his skull and he struggled to inhale, the sheer cold pressing on his chest, making each breath a battle. He swung around, trying to find his bearings. Lights drifted past him, away to his right—houses occupied by the Tangata. The currents were carrying him downriver fast. He needed to make it farther from the shore before he reached the bridge, lest the guards notice his passage.

Turning, he kicked out. His boots slipped on the currents, making the going difficult, and his clothing threatened to drag him down. At least the spear he held helped to keep him afloat. Teeth chattering, he focused on the darkness ahead, seeking some sign of the others, of the distant bank, of the bridge, but there was only the soft glint of the waters around him.

His body grew numb, the icy waters drawing away the last of his heat. Pain stabbed at his calves as he struggled on. At least he didn’t carry any of their supplies like the Tangata. How had the creatures managed to cross the Illmoor? Its waters were twice as wide as these. Already he could feel his strength fading, his desperate gasps unable to sustain him.

Time crept by, the moon high above, the whispers of the river the only sound in his world. Soon, Lukys began to wonder if he had somehow missed the bridge. Surely it should not be taking so long to encounter it. Fatigue crept through his limbs, slowing his strokes, and he found himself glancing back, struggling to judge how far he’d come.

Something large loomed in the darkness, blocking out the moonlight. He gasped, realising the bridge was upon him. In the pitch-black, he grabbed desperately for a pillar. But its surface was smooth, cloaked in algae, and his fingers slipped. He cried out as the currents swept him between the pillars. Unable to see, he thrashed out with the spear, hoping to catch it on something, anything that would keep him from being dragged past the bridge—

Lukys lurched to a stop as something caught his spear, almost jolting it from his grasp. Water rushed around him and gritting his teeth, he held desperately to the weapon as he was dragged into a sheltered nook behind one of the columns. A hand went around his waist, pulling him in the rest of the way, until he found himself pressed against a warm body.

Grey eyes glinted in the darkness as Sophia held him close, keeping him from being sucked back into the river. Lukys swallowed, a shiver running through him, though he wasn’t sure whether it was from the cold or her closeness. He opened his mouth to thank her, but amidst the shadows she raised a finger to her lips, then pointed to the stones above.

Lukys’s heart lurched as he caught the soft tread of feet from overhead. He swallowed back the words he’d been about to speak. The steps grew closer, and he sensed the distant whisper of voices in his mind, still faint, but growing closer. He clutched at Sophia, her warmth bringing him back to life, and prayed the guards hadn’t—

I heard something, a voice announced, clear now. I swear.

He felt Sophia tense against him, could feel her heart racing in pace with his own. There was no sign of the other recruits—hopefully they were already across, out of sight, free. Lukys closed his eyes and waited. There was nothing else they could do.

There’s nothing out here, another replied. You really think someone got past us?

You really want to face that Old One if they did?

A pause. Should we check the other side?

The whispers in Lukys’s mind grew louder as they neared. Beneath the bridge, they could not be seen, but Lukys’s heart quickened at their words. If they crossed to the southern banks, there would be no missing the Perfugian recruits that had gone ahead.

He frowned as an idea came to him and he looked again at Sophia, turning her earlier words over in his mind. What had she said…that they could encourage emotions in others? Did that include the Tangata? She’d said he