Page 9 of Shade of Ruin

BOOM!

The wall explodes inward. Shards of wood fly toward me, and I shield my face with my left hand. Splinters the size of my fingers pelt my body, and once again, I thank the gods that I slept in my clothes. Even so, I feel the sharp sting of several of them piercing through the linen and leather.

The pain’s forgotten almost instantly. I take in the injuries and brush them off as not life-threatening. The creatures flying through the hole in the wall, on the other hand, are very life threatening.

Three…womenfly into the room on sand-colored feathered wings. With talons on their feet and wings protruding from their backs, they’re obviously Fae, but they look as similar to the High Fae from the dining hall as they look to me.

All three of them are completely naked. Feathers cover their chests and legs all the way to the waist, leaving their stomach,arms, and heads covered in human skin rather than feathers. And most of that human skin is putrid and decaying. One of the creature’s hands has had the skin peeled from it, leaving bone and muscle open to the air. Another has writhing maggots crawling over the blackened flesh of her collarbone. The third’s jawbone is partially exposed, showing her teeth and gums.

They say nothing as they land in crouches. The sickening scent of rot and decay radiates from their disgusting bodies, and my stomach lurches. They stop for a moment and take a long sniff in unison, like you would do over a savory pork roast. The one with the blackened collarbone pulls a knife from her belt. It’s thin and looks more like an exceptionally large, flattened needle than a dagger. Long lines run the length of it, the signs of folded metal in the forging process. The black steel flickers in the fire of the candles that have, surprisingly, stayed standing.

She points it toward me, tip first, and with a flick of the wrist, it flies across the room faster than I’ve ever seen something move.

I try to dodge, not daring to attempt to block it with my spear. I jump to the side, and the knife clips my tunic, cutting a thin slice across my shoulder and leaving the skin exposed but uncut. Immediately, the creatures are flying toward me. I’m overwhelmed by the scent of decaying flesh as they get closer. Even in my battle-focused state, I can’t ignore it. My stomach twists in knots, and even as I step into a fighting stance with my spear, I question whether I’ll keep my dinner down.

That’s why I barely notice that it’s not just their feet that are talons. The creatures’ fingers end in long hooked nails just as perfect for rending flesh as the ones on their feet. I’d have expected that their wide wings would make their movement awkward in the small space of the room, but it actually makes them nearly impossible to escape.

Why are these creatures here? What do they want with me? How do I fight something like this? The questions fly throughmy mind, and there aren’t any answers to them. Fear races through me in a way that I’ve never experienced in the forests. Not hunting grizzly bears or wolves. Not climbing or jumping or swimming.

These creatures aren’t natural. They’re the things from nightmares, and I know the only reason they’re here is to kill me.

They blot out the opening in the wall as they slowly move toward me. The creatures are drooling as they look at me with pupil-less gray eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume that they were animated dead bodies. They make me think of some unholy creation of Fae magic, but they speak to each other in a language I’ve never heard: clicks and squeaks that remind me of birds. They’re certainly not mindless.

I try to stab with my spear as they get within range, but one of the creatures raises her hand, and the spear hits a gust of wind that appears from nowhere. It flies up and away from the creature, my stab going wide.

“What do you want?” I hiss as I strike out with my spear again. They’re not just hunting a human for food. They want me, specifically. Another gust of wind throws my spear off its target, and the creature with the rotten hand swoops under the spear. I jump out of the way, but it reaches out a claw to slice my stomach as it flies past. Pain makes me growl as the four-inch long-talon cuts a narrow gash in my abdomen.

The only way out of this is to get behind them and then leave through the hole in the wall. A fall from that high won’t hurt too much. I’ve jumped out of trees this high before, and as long as I don’t land wrong, I’ll be fine.

I act like I’m going to strike with the spear, and instead of a thrust, I charge. All three of the creatures veer away, and the opening to the hole is clear. I race toward it, not looking back. It’s the only chance in a world where flying women can create wind.

Vesta was right. I am not prepared to fight any Fae.

As if to prove it, a gust of wind hits me in the back so hard that I’m lifted off my feet and fly into the wall. I land right next to the hole, but when I try to get my feet under me, the world won’t quit spinning long enough.

Then the terrible creatures are surrounding me. Their clawed hands rip into my shoulders and arms as I try to protect my face. Their screams sound so similar to a bird of prey, and I realize that this is what it feels like when the wolf catches the deer. The absolute helplessness.

I was the best hunter in my woods. I could out sneak, out fight, out climb, out run, and out kill any man, woman, or child that I know. And I just showed a predator my back. The first rule of fighting predators is to keep your teeth facing their teeth or you’re going to get bit. A simple mistake, and now it’s going to be the death of me.

I don’t think I could fight even one of these things, much less three. I was supposed to save Hazel. I was supposed to sneak into Draenyth and convince a dragon as old as the world to save her. What was I thinking?

Blood clouds my eyes as it runs down my head. Searing pain from the dozens of deep slices fills my body as the need to fight fades. Only pain and the realization that I’m too weak to fulfill my task are left.

Just as the first tear falls, another explosion fills the air, but this time, it’s not from the creatures or the wall I’m backed against. All the creatures turn in unison, leaving their backs to me.

If I weren’t on the verge of unconsciousness, I’d leap to my feet and attack them just like they did to me, but I’m not entirely sure I can stand up, much less attack at this point.

And everything happens so fast that it’s like time slows down.

The only reason I know what’s happening is because I can see a green cloak brushing the floor under the creatures. The Fae from the dining hall. “Filthy things,” his low voice mutters. It’s a gorgeous voice and one that I won’t forget easily. I feel drawn to it just as I was drawn to the sight of him. I feel like I can stand again, like the futility and self-loathing I’d felt has faded away. It’s burned up just by this Fae’s appearance in the room.

There’s a flash and a scream. The creature in the center falls, revealing the Fae, his hood down. He’s gorgeous. More beautiful than any man has a right to be. Long black hair that shines like it’s made of silk. His eyes flash with an ice-cold blue that directly contradicts the warmth of the smile that crosses his face. Every line of his body looks like it was carved by a sculptor, hard and rigid as stone.

That smile feels so carefree. Facing down hideous monsters, he looks like he couldn’t be happier. It’s so out of place that it sticks in my mind even while blood runs down my face and into my eyes.

As he swings a black-steel two-handed sword, I can’t help but think his body flows like water. The creatures are screaming, and he flows between them. They try to fight off the sword with their claw-like fingers. They dive and harry him, so similar to wolves, but he moves with a grace that makes it look easy.

The hunters have become the hunted as he moves between them. It’s obvious that the High Fae has complete control of the situation while the creatures are scrambling to do anything to him. After he’s danced between them for several moments, he takes one step toward the one with part of her jaw missing, and the sword cuts straight through her chest, leaving broken ribs sticking out. Immediately after, without giving the last one a chance to respond, he lifts his hand, points it at her, and she explodes in ash.

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