Page 58 of Blood of Ancients

Another blur ahead of us, dashing through the snow about twenty paces ahead at a perpendicular angle—away from us—too far to make out what it was.

Then a gurgling voice of surprise, much closer.

My head instinctively turned—

To see that my friend Trond had been the first to get it.

Frombehindus. From the empty cabin door.

A curved blade of black sprouted from his chest, snapping bones and muscle as it impaled him. He stared down in confusion at the blade, red blood running down his chin.

The shield wall broke in an instant, alarmed cries carrying on the wind as everyone whipped around.

I stayed looking ahead out into the snow, because I saw the trickery for what it was. Someone had hidden in the shadows of the cabin and waited for the right moment to strike.

Now the black shapes were numerous, coming in fast, stealing my breath with a shock of fear rippling through me.

I never saw the attacker was behind us, because I never turned that way. I vaguely wondered if someone out here had used shadowwalking to trick our crew, like Kelvar the Whisperer, making the cabin seem emptier than it was.

All hell broke loose as the black shapes descended.

I Shaped a rune and tossed fire into the white—

Quickly snuffed out by some kind of siphon ahead of me, swallowing up the magic before it even sputtered to life.

A glance over showed me one of the Huscarl women getting skewered from an invisible force, then a row of arrows appearing in her chest before Trond had even fallen to the snow.

Both of them dead.

My heart jolted to my throat.What the fuck is this?!

Clearly, this was not part of Tomekeeper Dahlia’s plan.

No, this was something . . . supernatural.

I moved my feet, eager not to get lit up by arrows like the woman had.

Argyle swung his sword blindly, as if attacking the snow itself.

It was only when I moved off to the side of the cabin that I got a better angle and saw him fending off against a fast-moving shadow, a tinge of white sparkling in the snowfall and melding with it.

Argyle was cut down, his shins separating from his feet as he collapsed, footless, screaming out in agony and spurting blood across the snow.

I recognized I was outmatched, if these swift enemies were able to cut down half our number in a matter of heartbeats. An idea came to mind—the only desperate thing I could think to try and escape this red slaughter.

I took off running, sprinting away from the cabin—

Toward theothercottage. The important one where the portal lay like an invisible forcefield, about twenty feet away. The portal surrounded the door and walls of the structure in a sphere. I knew that from recognizing its shape when Ravinica opened it, shortly before it seemed to dissipate before everyone’s eyes.

I prayed to Odin it was still standing, invisible as always, but ready to take desperate visitors.

More cries came from the bloody cabin, the Huscarls losing their lives to a foe they couldn’t see or strike in the blinding storm.

I was five feet away from that open door, gasping for breath—

A sharp pain ran up my calf, inching up my spine.

I didn’t have time to look or think about the arrow lodged there. I carried on through the pain, hobbled from the burn in my muscle. Something clutched my hand—

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