Page 159 of Of Blood & Stone

“You will forget all of this,” Distrathrus whispered, “I promise.”

The amber in Nyla’s eyes turned white and lifeless?—

A loud crack sounded, Distrathrus’ cold grip leaving her as he fell to the floor. A gold shield clanked to the ground.

The shield Aretta had crafted for Kharis.

Sylzenya no longer drowned.

The orodyte serum stalled. Pulling back from the pedestal, Sylzenya splashed her hands out of the moat. The Kreenas’ screams ceased, replaced with heavy breathing and cries of relief.

“Hurry,” Kharis said as he gripped Sylzenya’s arms.

She wobbled to her feet, clutching Kharis as he helped her walk towards Elnok, the cursed sword lying next to him.

“Shit, Dyna—” But Kharis couldn’t finish his thought.

Glowing figures appeared before them, tackling Kharis and shoving Sylzenya away. Too weak to fight back, she crumpled to the floor, her back aching and bleeding.

Elnok’s pale eyes found hers, his blood pooling around him. He moved his mouth, forming words she couldn’t hear. She reached for him–

“Sylzenya,” Distrathrus shouted, “I’m done with these delays.”

Body turning rigid, Sylzenya stumbled back to the pedestal, placing her palms back in the orodyte serum, the power within her reconnecting to it. She tried yanking her hands away, but it was no use.

A flash of motion, then, “Get away from her!”

Sword still embedded in his stomach, Elnok jumped in front of her. He staked the cursed sword through Distrathrus’ neck.

The god fell, Elnok on top of him.

“Elnok!” she shouted.

He looked to her.

“End this,” he cried, pulling the sword out of the god and spinning it to her on the floor.

Her fingers shook as she gripped the hilt.

“You’re more powerful than him, Syl. He’s nothing without you,that’swhy he needs you.”

Distrathrus’ spindly fingers gripped Elnok’s throat. He sputtered blood, his eyes closing shut as he scratched at the god’s hands.

“Why won’t you justdie?” the god yelled, ripping out the sword in Elnok’s stomach.

Distrathrus smiled as Elnok’s blood poured over him.

Head reeling, Sylzenya’s fear transformed into rage.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Aretta’s heartbeat. She looked up. The roots hanging from the ceiling… they were from a willow.

Sylzenya’s first willow.

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