Page 154 of House of Ashes

Thirty-Three

Rhylan raced back to the eyrie faster than he’d ever flown before.

Heat radiated from him, a shimmer in the air as we passed over the mountains. He was a shooting star, blazing flame, breath puffing like bellows as he fought to go faster, faster.

The entire eyrie was alight, a beacon in the darkness of the mountains. My heart, already pounding to the rhythm of Rhylan’s wingbeats, sank to my stomach at the sight of it.

Erebos was awake, and his rage shook the mountain itself. Smoke trickled from crevices around the mountain, and as Rhylan crashed through the dragon door, I felt the air itself grow thicker—the Ascendant’s fury congealing into a tangible entity.

The stones of the eyrie quaked under my feet when I slid from his back.

Rhylan had shifted before I even reached the door, tearing it open. Scales covered every inch of his skin; his mouth was distended, filled with fangs.

We raced to the spiral stairs, following the sounds of raised voices and shouting.

When we reached the floor below the training rooms, we hit a solid wall of people: the Bloodless of his House, alarmed by the quivering walls of the eyrie, had packed the staircase full.

Rhylan did not spare time for politesse. “MOVE!” he bellowed, and I caught a glimpse of Nilsa’s wide eyes, the girl borne along by the flood of people trickling down and making way for the prince.

I followed on his heels, hands clammy with fear and nerves, terrified of what we would find in the wyvern’s roost.

Alriss barred the door with her own body, sweat gleaming on her brow…blood smeared across her face and hands. The wild look in her eyes gave way to relief as Rhylan pushed through his people.

“She’s in here,” she said unnecessarily, and let us through, barring the door behind us. “Three dragons brought her…they threw them in through the roost’s window. They were painted black, I have no idea which fucking House they belonged to.”

It was hard to get any closer.

Erebos filled most of the roost, a twisting, endlessly-writhing mass of coils, solid black flame dripping from his jaws. His eyes blazed with light and fury as he crouched over the…the thing on the floor.

“My blood!” The Ascendant’s scream hit my head and chest with physical force, vibrating in my bones. “My child!”

Gods…that could not be Kirana. It could not be. It was a…a sack of flesh, no muscle, no bone, only a slick of wet, red skin…

Myst cowered next to him, her silver eyes wide. She reached out a clawed hand, and drew it back, terrified of Erebos—terrified for him—and unable to touch him.

Rhylan’s movements were jerky as he sprinted to the writhing, screaming Ascendant, his face frozen like a man caught in a nightmare—

But he moved past the flesh. Past the thing that was so much meat now.

And with a flood of relief, and a smaller gush of shame over the relief, I saw that it was not Kirana.

It was Garnet, or what was left of her; the scales had been sliced away, her innards torn out, the head missing, of course. She was nothing but a suit of hollow flesh now.

But I hadn’t seen Kirana beyond the ruin of her wyvern. She was…she was…

Barely clinging to life. As bloody as her wyvern. Chest rising and falling in short, jerky gasps.

But still alive, despite…despite what had been done to her.

I gave silent thanks to Larivor that it was Garnet, and not Kirana who had died as Rhylan collapsed next to his sister. I knelt on her other side, ready to do anything to save her…but it was impossible to know where to begin.

Yura had removed everything from inside Garnet’s skin.

She had removed everything on the outside of Kirana.

My hands hovered over wet, exposed muscle, the gleam of white bone. If she hadn’t died of shock and blood loss yet, it…it would be soon.

Rhylan could not touch her. His talons were extended, hide rippling over his skin in frantic patches as he clawed his own face, trying and failing to reach for her over and over.

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