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Authors: Crista McHugh
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knees.
Arden grabbed his harvesting tool, swinging it with all the strength she could muster. The blade cut cleanly through the undead’s neck, and his head rolled across the ground.
Waves of nausea enveloped her. What had she just done?
“Very impressive, young Soulbearer,” a gravelly voice murmured behind her. “Loku chose well this time.”
Although her lungs burned for air, her breath froze at the end of a shaky exhalation. She lifted her head. The necromancer glided toward her like a shadow of a large bird. An icy chill gripped her. Her hands shook when she raised the scythe. “Back away, or you’re next.” His laughter felt like thousands of ants crawling on her skin. Sparks of black lightning zapped between his fingers. “You think you can destroy me?”
“ Uh-oh. Time to put up a shield .”
Before she understood what Loku meant, a bolt of the black lightning struck her. The scythe fell from her hands as she doubled over in pain. Searing blades tore at her insides, clawing their way to the surface. A black veil descended over her vision and, off in the distance, she heard her own screams.
She had never prayed for death until that moment.
An orange glow bloomed in front of her, and the torture ended. She slowly opened her eyes. A circle of flames surrounded the necromancer. Hooves thundered toward her.
“ Get your shield up now before he has a chance to mount another attack .”
“ A shield? ” A haze of exhaustion clouded her mind.
“ Imagine a barrier covering you that will block any magic that comes toward you .” She focused on the idea of a blanket wrapped tightly around her, one that could drive away the cold dread nibbling at her soul. She stretched it further, covering her head and limbs in its warmth. Her muscles unlocked. When a rough hand grabbed hers and pulled her onto the horse that galloped past her, she willingly molded her body to the task. The blanket doubled in size, enveloping Dev and his horse.
Something collided with the shield. Her body jerked forward as if she had been punched, but her back and chest remained pain-free. She tightened her grip around Dev’s waist, burying her face in the folds of his cloak.
The wind carried a whisper that penetrated her shield, coiled around her ear like a tendril of smoke. “Very impressive, little Soulbearer, but don’t worry. You’ll soon come crawling to me, and Loku will be mine.”
Chapter 9
Dev’s jaw began to unclench when the next farming town came into view. He had underestimated this necromancer, and Trouble had almost gotten killed because of it. The threat that followed them on the breeze served as a challenge.
A yawn behind him also reminded him that he’d also underestimated the new Soulbearer.
It was one thing to shoot a single fireball at an enemy, but six? Either she’d received some training in the magical arts, or she was more powerful than he first thought. Judging by Ranello’s hostile attitude toward mages, he placed his bet on the latter. He remembered what Loku had said about being drawn to her power. What did the god have in mind for her?
He shook his head. Too many questions without answers. Fatigue sagged his shoulders, reminding him of how little sleep he’d gotten tonight. Maybe in the morning, the answers would appear more readily than they did now.
Trouble yawned again, and the warm glow of her shield retreated from him. Its absence left a chill in its wake. He savored the remnants that pressed against his back. Yet another thing puzzling him. “Where did you learn to cast a shield?” And more importantly, why hadn’t she cast it before the necromancer attacked her?
“Loku taught me.” Sleep laced her words.
“Stay awake until the sun comes up. We’ll be safe then.” Her arms tightened, but she didn’t say anything else. She must be weary not to ask her usual barrage of questions. He slid his hand over hers and let it linger there, enjoying the faint pulsations of her arteries
Arden grabbed his harvesting tool, swinging it with all the strength she could muster. The blade cut cleanly through the undead’s neck, and his head rolled across the ground.
Waves of nausea enveloped her. What had she just done?
“Very impressive, young Soulbearer,” a gravelly voice murmured behind her. “Loku chose well this time.”
Although her lungs burned for air, her breath froze at the end of a shaky exhalation. She lifted her head. The necromancer glided toward her like a shadow of a large bird. An icy chill gripped her. Her hands shook when she raised the scythe. “Back away, or you’re next.” His laughter felt like thousands of ants crawling on her skin. Sparks of black lightning zapped between his fingers. “You think you can destroy me?”
“ Uh-oh. Time to put up a shield .”
Before she understood what Loku meant, a bolt of the black lightning struck her. The scythe fell from her hands as she doubled over in pain. Searing blades tore at her insides, clawing their way to the surface. A black veil descended over her vision and, off in the distance, she heard her own screams.
She had never prayed for death until that moment.
An orange glow bloomed in front of her, and the torture ended. She slowly opened her eyes. A circle of flames surrounded the necromancer. Hooves thundered toward her.
“ Get your shield up now before he has a chance to mount another attack .”
“ A shield? ” A haze of exhaustion clouded her mind.
“ Imagine a barrier covering you that will block any magic that comes toward you .” She focused on the idea of a blanket wrapped tightly around her, one that could drive away the cold dread nibbling at her soul. She stretched it further, covering her head and limbs in its warmth. Her muscles unlocked. When a rough hand grabbed hers and pulled her onto the horse that galloped past her, she willingly molded her body to the task. The blanket doubled in size, enveloping Dev and his horse.
Something collided with the shield. Her body jerked forward as if she had been punched, but her back and chest remained pain-free. She tightened her grip around Dev’s waist, burying her face in the folds of his cloak.
The wind carried a whisper that penetrated her shield, coiled around her ear like a tendril of smoke. “Very impressive, little Soulbearer, but don’t worry. You’ll soon come crawling to me, and Loku will be mine.”
Chapter 9
Dev’s jaw began to unclench when the next farming town came into view. He had underestimated this necromancer, and Trouble had almost gotten killed because of it. The threat that followed them on the breeze served as a challenge.
A yawn behind him also reminded him that he’d also underestimated the new Soulbearer.
It was one thing to shoot a single fireball at an enemy, but six? Either she’d received some training in the magical arts, or she was more powerful than he first thought. Judging by Ranello’s hostile attitude toward mages, he placed his bet on the latter. He remembered what Loku had said about being drawn to her power. What did the god have in mind for her?
He shook his head. Too many questions without answers. Fatigue sagged his shoulders, reminding him of how little sleep he’d gotten tonight. Maybe in the morning, the answers would appear more readily than they did now.
Trouble yawned again, and the warm glow of her shield retreated from him. Its absence left a chill in its wake. He savored the remnants that pressed against his back. Yet another thing puzzling him. “Where did you learn to cast a shield?” And more importantly, why hadn’t she cast it before the necromancer attacked her?
“Loku taught me.” Sleep laced her words.
“Stay awake until the sun comes up. We’ll be safe then.” Her arms tightened, but she didn’t say anything else. She must be weary not to ask her usual barrage of questions. He slid his hand over hers and let it linger there, enjoying the faint pulsations of her arteries
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