Two girls. Two secrets.
Only one can survive.
Years before Nelle Wychthorn plans her escape, Tabitha Catt may unearth something in a Horned God's lair that is the key to freedom.
Desperate to save her beloved aunt from a dark curse, Tabitha is out t...
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Through the eddies of smoke and mist, the clashing sounds of shouting and gunfire and screaming, I spotted small figures—children—scattered over the lawn. Some of them were running, others frozen to the spot. Beyond them, soldiers were mauled to death, their corpses tipped over like sacks of flour, and the dogs surged onward while ink-feathered crows spiraled down to pick up the dead to carry back to Jurgana. The Horned God was slowly gaining ground, her eyelids droopy and still half-asleep. Her midnight waves of power swirled about her naked body, dripping in beads of scarlet.
I should have been thinking of Byron—that he was somewhere out there and I needed to find him. But my mind was honed on my sister. Valarie streaked ahead of the Estlores and Troelsens. Wildfyre blazed from the groove of her sword's fuller and made the adamere blade gleam blue against the bleak night. She had already swept across the grass to the first cluster of sobbing children as a dog barrelled toward them. My fingers tightened on the hilt of my sword as black fear crushed my lungs. My mind shot back to the Hemmlok Forest. Every inch of me wanted to go to Valarie's aid, to stand in front of her, to drag her off the battlefield. My sister didn't hesitate nor falter; she was all instinct and graceful motion.
The beast, all fangs and claws and snarls, pounced—
Valarie slid sideways—
Leaping and whirling as if she were dancing, lifting her sword high, she powered downward and cleaved the beast in half. Wildfyre exploded from her blade and gorged on the creature's body.
I let out a pent-up breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
"Varen!" a husky voice barked.
I half-twisted around, drawn to the woman who had shouted my name. Petra's white teeth flashed brightly against her deep umber skin as she stabbed her dagger in the air behind us. "Jurgana's beasts are moving in to encircle us!"
Hellsgate. Petra was right. The servants behind us, caught out in the middle of the lawn, were bunched together as Jurgana's dogs swooped in to cut them off from retreating from the mansion.
I lunged forward, grabbing a torch blazed with wildfyre and ripping it from the ground. I swung back to those who had come to our aid. More Crowthers had arrived as well as Văduvas and many faces I didn't recognize from any House. I tossed the blue-flamed torch to one of my men who snatched it from the air. "Get the wildfyre torches. Use them as spears and lances!" I ordered the amassing Crowther warband. All of them, men and women, were on edge yet calm in the face of Jurgana's wrath. "Work together and drive the beasts back. Bolts and gunfire won't work against them—you need to carve them into pieces or set them on fire!" The warband broke apart, racing around the edge of the dance area which had descended into bedlam, to claim wildfyre torches.
Petra, like all of her female hunters, had removed her high heels. She bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, rotating her shoulders and spinning the daggers in either hand. We shared a grim look. There were unfamiliar men and women who'd collected around us, who we both suspected were house servants and not soldiers. Petra arched an eyebrow. "They can form a chain and bring the kids in while we protect them!" she shouted against the deafening sounds surrounding us.
