City of Dust

Chapter Twenty-Three

We burst out of the stables and into the streets of the City of Dust. At midnight, it's absurdly quiet and I have to wonder if there's some sort of curfew in place. There are a few lights on in the Orcus Institute, but other than the street lamps and the nearly full moon high above, that's all there is for illumination.

There's no looking back, so I don't—keeping my eyes focused on the too-clean road ahead. Where the hell is Glaris?

As if sensing my thoughts, there's a snort and a massive black stallion emerges from an alley. Behind them on a lead line is a fully-tacked black pony mare. The trio is practically invisible in the dark; even the Striker's yellow eyes are in shadow.

"Over here," Glaris says, bringing the pony around.

I watch her freeze and begin to shake as the fear completely takes control.

"Come on," I hiss between clenched teeth. "We don't have any time to dawdle."

Glaris glares at me from beneath his hood. At least, that's what I think he's doing. I really can't tell.

"Come on," he repeats, nicely.

Egon helps speed up the process by walking up to the black stallion. Glaris dismounts and lifts Kayleigh off Egon's back and shifts her to the pony.

I grit my teeth and tap my foot in the stirrup, watching as they waste precious seconds. He should have just taken her up on the stallion and forgotten the pony entirely. I can't even imagine why he thought that this was a good idea.

Kayleigh comes to as soon as she's in the saddle. She immediately finds her seat, slides her feet into the stirrups, and takes up the reins.

"Good, kid," Glaris praises, wasting even more time by patting her on the back.

God, can we save all this positive affirmation for after we're miles and miles away?

Glaris swings back up on his stallion and knees the Friesian into motion. Winston and the pony lurch after them, cloven and steel-shod hooves clattering on cobblestone.

I have a vague idea of how to get out of the city, but Glaris seems to know immediately where to go. He leads us through the wide streets and through avenues bordered by massive skyscrapers. The geode-like wall that encircles the City of Dust looms overhead, the glittering peaks reflecting the light of the moon.

Everything is dead and quiet, like a cemetery.

The hair on the back of my neck prickles as if in a warning. I haven't encountered zombies, vampires, or ghouls, but who's to say what else the demons will raise next?

As we race past an ordinary-looking blue post office box, the entire city shakes as a massive bellow rolls overhead like a tsunami-generated wave.

"Huuuunnnnterrrrr!"

Ehtab's voice slams into me, right between my shoulder blades. A puff of breath leaves my lungs as if I've been punched by a giant's fist. Surprise turns into a cough and I double over in the saddle. Winston grunts, ears pinning back, and his stride falters. The Striker's stallion bellows and tosses his huge head, thick black mane flying. Kayleigh's pony squeals and bucks, causing the kid to shriek as she struggles to control the mare.

Gasping, I struggle to fill my lungs with air. For too many seconds, I can't seem to catch it, but finally, my body remembers how to work. I lean back, mouth wide open, drawing in precious oxygen. Heart pounding, I do what I told myself that I wouldn't do—I look back.

"Shit!"

Dust is pouring out of the top of the Orcus Institute, cresting over the roof of the building like a wave. I can swear there are bodies in the dust.