Page 38 of The Mirror of Beasts

She’d found shelter behind an outcropping of rock, letting it take the brunt of the battering winds. Emrys held on to me as we ran toward it, and for once I didn’t mind—without our combined weight, the wind would have had an easier time of blowing us off the cliffs to our right, into the sea.

“Not to question the immaculate logic of running out into the middle of an ice storm in pursuit of terrifying noises,” Emrys said, “but what the hell are we still doing here?”

Neve and I reached out, guiding Caitriona and Olwen to us. Caitriona tried to shout something to us, but it was lost as the whole sky flashed with lightning. A horn sounded, the fathomless call of an ancient horror.

If you hear that sound again, closer than it is now, run as fast as you can.

But it was too late.

They had already appeared.

They rode out from the dark heart of the cloud hanging low over the sea, their ghostly steeds burning with the cold light of distant stars. One by one, they galloped through the air, whooping and shrieking like raiders as they fell upon the cliffs below us.

The breath choked out of me—they weren’t men, but hideous creatures in their mold, spun from bone and shadow. The metal of their grotesque spiked armor glowed with the silver magic radiating from their eyes.

A pack of spectral dogs wove between the legs of their horses, foam dripping from their maws as they barked and yapped in wild anticipation, captives of their own bloodlust. The one at the front was larger than the others, its coat a silken black flecked with ice. It was real.

Cabell.

I would have lunged forward, screaming for him, had Emrys not grabbed me again.

“I swear to every god, if you don’t let me go—” I began, trembling with anger. Emrys had taken the one thing that would have helped me save Cabell from this fate, and now he was going to block me from reaching my brother?

Like hell he was.

I shoved against him, but his grip tightened, and this time, he forced me to look at him. Forced me to meet his bright eyes. The hail had receded, softening to a heavy curtain of snow that crusted in his dark hair.

Then he struck the fatal blow. “Would he even recognize you? Or would he just tear out your throat?”

He already knew the answer. He saw what had happened in Avalon, when Cabell’s curse was triggered. We’d barely survived it.

“You have to stay alive to keep hating me, Lark,” he reminded me, close to my ear.

I poured every ounce of my fury into my gaze, even as his grip eased. Even as my body instinctively softened at his nearness, seeking comfort he’d never give. I gritted my teeth as I pulled back, catching Neve’s eye, and the unasked question there.

For all the storm’s wrath, for all the riotous exhilaration of the hunters, the world went suddenly silent around us.

The final rider had appeared.

Like the others, he was clad in armor, but it seemed to absorb all light, drinking it deep rather than reflecting it. The animal pelts at his shoulders flowed behind him as his horse surged forward. Lightning bolts flashed with every strike of its hooves against the cloud, their jagged shapes mirroring that of his horned crown.

My heart sped until I was sure it would burst. The next roll of thunder felt as if it had been torn from my own chest, the most powerful of screams.

The Bonecutter had claimed he wasn’t a true god, but he was a king of another world, and he wore the body of one who had ruled in this one. High on his terrifying mount as he was, that regal bearing was borne out. Here, with his host, he was at his most powerful. He was master and conqueror.

Lord Death.

Caitriona dove forward, but Olwen and Neve gripped her arms, forcing her back from the edge of the cliff. She grappled with them, her face burning red with fury and the belting wind, but the others only held her tighter.

I reached out, gripping her wrist. Keeping both of us there, alive.

“Release me …,” she begged. “He’s there—I can—”

The hunting party formed a line behind Lord Death. Their horses danced with impatience, whinnying. The hounds circled, snapping at the feet of the riders and tearing up the dead grass beneath the snow. Their sole focus seemed to be the stone cottage at the bottom of the hill.

My whole chest tightened as I realized who they’d come for.

A dark figure that emerged from the front door, wand in hand.

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