Page 36 of Prince of Ruin

“We will march out,” I shout, using that anger that Abaddon fanned. I’m shocked when everyone falls silent. “We will be brave. And we will win this battle. Success will be ours.” I flash a wicked grin. “And so will the world.”

Their cheers roar through the valley. I jerk the reins of the wyvern, gripping the leather saddle as it soars into the sky, following the swarming bat army as the colony takes flight. All I can do is try my best, and hope that it’s enough.

But when the sun crests the horizon, painting the sky blood-red, I can’t help but think of how the battlefield will look much like the sky pretty soon, coated in the blood of the very people I’m fighting for.

Tarsus

I cling to Weaver’s fur as we lead the army toward the valley outside of Jawbone City. The giant tarantula’s strides are even and fluid, making the ride feel more like she’s flying than scurrying across the terrain in front of my armies.

Abaddon threatened to attack if I didn’t send Aden to them by midnight last night. And instead of throwing Aden in, like the fucking volcano demanded, I’m risking my entire army against a colony of bats.

It’s worth it–to keep Aden protected.

Aden stayed home, safely tucked behind the bone walls of the palace. Nobody is touching him—I’ve made damn sure about that. I’m pretty confident in my army’s ability to win this war. The bat colony consists of maybe two-to-three thousand bats. My army has roughly ten-thousand warriors. Sure, the bats can fly, but that’s their only advantage. They are a lazy breed who spend most of their time feasting and fucking within their caves. They have not been trainedfor combat, and their numbers are small. Abaddon is an idiot, leading his colony into practical extinction.

Thank the Great Mother Clavicle is not here, or wewouldall be fucked. With his powers as the Spine Sovereign, he would be able to wipe us out with one stroke of his hand. I grind my teeth together as the memory of him pinning Aden to the bed yesterday assaults my mind. I’m not a fool. That pinky swear meant nothing to him. He would risk losing a finger if it meant returning to this realm and restoring his immortality and powers.

I should have plunged my dagger into his heart when I had the chance, but Aden was already so distraught, I didn’t want to cause further affliction.

The next time I see Clavicle, though, he will be mine to kill.

For now, I have a heartless, stupid bat to fight, and his armies to defeat.

A loud, eerie screeching echoes beyond the mountains, and I can sense my armies tensing as they straighten in their armor.

“Remember what I said!” I shout at my armies. “Show no mercy.”

Just then, I see Abaddon soaring in the distance, a thousand bats flying behind him, blocking out the littler light breaking through the churning clouds above. Though they bear no weapons, these bats are vicious. Long teeth, sharp talons, this battle willcertainly be a bloody one. Is this really worth it? Risking my warriors for the sake of Aden? That’s not even a question—of course it is, but the truth is, this is for all humans. The thousands of years of sacrifices and mistreatment of humans must end.

The bats are soaring closer, and at General Ulna’s command, my armies aim their arrows toward the skies. Ulna shouts out another command, and the arrows fly into the skies, piercing their marks. Bats fall to the ground like rain. But Abaddon didn’t become king of the bats with no effort. He dodges the arrows with lethal precision. Panic begins hitting as the remaining bats soar closer, too fast for us to ready our arrows, and before we know it, they’re pummeling my warriors to the ground. Shouts and screeches fill the air as the cracks of bodies colliding into each other echoes through the valley Beyond the mountain range, another army appears of a thousand more bats.

“Forward, Weaver,” I order the tarantula. She is usually the size of my palm, hiding behind my blanket of hair on my shoulders. But with some forest magic, she’s able to grow into a monstrous size, allowing me to ride her into battle, and giving her fangs a deadly bite to all who cross her. Her eight black and gold hairy legs move us forward, and I scan the skies for Abaddon, but he’s blended in with the swarming bats above. I squint toward the horizon again, trying togauge our competition, when I notice something far more forbidding coming our way.

A black wyvern. And on its back, a fae warrior wearing black armor. Who the fuck? Not anyone from the Lunar, Terra, or my own Spine Empire. The only fae I can see siding with the bat folk are the Solar Fae, but their armor is golden, not black.

I keep my eye on the warrior as the wyvern soars to the ground, snorting as it lands on its hind feet only twenty feet away. Weaver is running fast now, for a spider as large as a bear, she’s quick as we scuttle smoothly across the broad valley. The person on the wyvern is wearing a black helmet, and I’m unable to see their face clearly, but by the way their shoulders hunch and they look around frantically, I can tell they’re not seasoned for battle.

Good.Not a sovereign then. Perhaps a rebel of the Spine Empire. Some spy who’s been reporting to the bats this whole time. Well, he’ll get a good taste of what it means to be a traitor to the Spine Empire.

I grip Weaver’s fur, gauging where in the armor it would be easies to kill this fae, but that armor has no openings that I can see, not even the eyes, save for a tiny slit in the helmet. As we near, they shout an order. The wyvern whips back its long neck like a snake about to strike. Fuck.

“Weaver—fire!”

Just as the wyvern blows out a pillar of fire, Weaver jumps to the side, dodging the blazes with ease.

I grip tightly to the fur on Weaver’s back, then shout, “Charge!” And we head straight for the wyvern and her warrior, darting in from the side.

The warrior shouts another order, but the wyvern doesn’t have time to respond before Weaver is crawling onto its back, keeping it from taking to the skies. I leap off the giant tarantula, landing on the warrior’s back with ease. I wrap my arms around their neck and yank them off the saddle as we tumble to the ground.

They’re smaller than I expected, I realize, as I wrap my arm around their chest, pinning their back to me. This warrior has no muscle to speak of and not a fighting bone in their body. Their dagger hangs limp from their belt, even though they could easily grab it. I don’t exactly have their hands tied behind their back. What the fuck are they doing out here?

Weaver already has the wyvern half wrapped in her silky web, like a fly she plans to eat. The wyvern struggles to free itself, but the spider sinks her fangs into the creature’s side and the reptile goes limp. Weaver won’t eat it, though. When she returns to her normal size, I’ll feed her a fat, juicy mouse for her help today. For now, she’s just getting the beast out of my way as I fight its rider.

I turn back to the weak-ass warrior, and while I can’t see their eyes beneath the helmet, I notice their body language, how their back is tense, their fingers digging into the dirt as they watch in horror while Weaver continues spinning a web around the wyvern. I almost feel the need to console the kid, tell them that Weaver is just putting the wyvern to sleep temporarily, but then I remember that this is the enemy. No matter how young or inexperienced they are, they chose to ride into battle with the bat folk. Which means they marched out here to take my precious Aden from me and throw him into the throat of the volcano.

Fueled by renewed hatred, I release them, and stand. I don’t like unfair advantages. I want to give this kid a chance to fight, so I can kill them with a clear conscience. But they’re not even looking at me, they’re so distracted by Weaver.

I lift my sword, making sure it catches the light and glints in his eyes. Finally, the movement catches their attention. They turn toward me and begin inching back in terror. They finally have the fucking brains to reach for their dagger, clumsily pulling it from their belt, but their oversized gloves seem to be getting in the way.

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