Page 78 of Vow of the Shadow King

“I . . . I’m not certain I should . . .” She takes a step back, as though she wants to retreat. Then she drops her head and lets out a heavy huff of breath. “It’s my brother. He may be in danger.”

My brow tightens. “Yok?”

Hael nods.

“What kind of danger?”

Hael opens her mouth to answer. Before she can utter a word, however, a scream rips across my awareness. It’s faint. Distant. So distant, it doesn’t quite feel real. But the pain of it, the sharpness is enough to make me start and turn. Frozen, I strain my ears. When the second scream comes, distant as a waking dream, I realize I didn’thearit. It was my gods-gift which reacted.

“Princess?” Hael steps back into the room. “What’s the matter?”

I hold up a hand for silence. Turning to the window once more, I push through the curtains and onto the balcony, out under the dimminglorstlight. Mythanar still glows bright with the many light sources used by its denizens, the streets alive and busy and full of life as ever. Thestirring—as Vor calls the tremors—wasn’t strong enough to cause much disturbance. So what is this I feel? I rest my hands on the rail, lean out into open space. Did I imagine it? Are my senses still so distraught from earlier events, they play tricks on me?

Ah! There it is again. Faint, echoing. But real.

Screaming.

Terror.

My eyes widen.

A terrible black swell seems to rise from the lower city, close to the wall. My gods-gift recoils, but I cannot turn away. It’s a wave of darkness, of emotion, so massive, so unlike anything I’ve ever before seen. Higher and higher it sweeps, rippling across the city, swallowing up street after street.

“Gods!” I whisper. I can do nothing but stand there. Watching. As the black, roiling horror grows greater, until it towers over all Mythanar. It comes to a crest.

I scream, put up both hands in feeble defense just before it crashes down on top of me.

Somewhere far away, I hear Hael crying out, “Princess!” But I’m already crumpled in a heap, shrieking as my senses are overwhelmed in darkness.

33

VOR

Light gleams from the cave mouth ahead of us.

We race for it. Ourlorstcrystals flash, casting our shadows like wild phantoms on the narrow walls. Most of the others are ahead of me, stumbling and staggering on the uneven ground. I am slow, burdened by Yok’s weight on my shoulder.

“Leave me!” he cries when he can find breath. “I’m too heavy! Leave me behind!”

I don’t bother to answer. There’s no chance in the nine hells I’m leaving this boy to that swarm. Instead, I put my head down, angle mylorstto illuminate my feet, and simply run, run,run.

We hurtle up the path. I lift my gaze just in time to see the first of the men reach the cave entrance. There’s nothing there but that tiny ledge, nowhere for him to go. He stops, arms pinwheeling. The man behind him can’t slow down fast enough and hits him in the back. Only by sheer luck do they both manage to grab hold of stone and keep themselves from plummeting.

“Climb!” I bellow. My voice is nearly drowned in the rising cacophony ofwogghashrieks and squeals. They each come to the same conclusion simultaneously. Swinging out onto the wall they begin to scale it as fast as they can. It’s hopeless, of course. No trolde could ever outclimb awoggha. But it may give the riders in the holding pattern outside a chance to see us and come to our aid.

Lur reaches the cave opening ahead of me. She spins, leaps, catches the wall, and hauls herself up swift as a spider. I’m only a few paces behind now, still holding tight to Yok. Jork lumbers behind us. Suddenly, I hear him scream.

I turn. I shouldn’t. I’m so close to the opening, but I turn anyway, and look back to see Jork grappling with a cave devil. Green foam falls on his skin as its slavering jaws clamp open and shut mere inches from his face. He grips it by the throat, holds it off, even as its claws tear into his armor. Ice freezes my spine. Every instinct tells me to go back, to help him. But Yok . . . if I leave the boy . . .

Jork twists his head around. A terrible gash gushes blue across his forehead and into one eye.“Go!”he roars.“Get out of here!”

I pivot on heel and race on. The shrieks of thewogghaare deafening as they bottleneck in the narrow passage behind Jork and the fiend he battles. They’ll overwhelm him soon. Rip him to pieces like they did poor Hud and Toz.

But I will get this boy out of here safely. If it’s the last thing I do.

We reach the opening. Up above, I see our fellow riders bringing our morleth down to us. Even as I watch, Lur springs from the wall, catches her beast’s saddle, and pulls herself onto it. The others haven’t spied me yet, and I cannot see Knar. Did the fool beast take the opportunity to disappear back into his own dimension? Just my luck!

“Hold on, Yok,” I say and swing the boy back around onto my shoulders as I had when I carried him from the pit. The next moment, we’re climbing. I use the spikes in my bracers to assist me in my ascent, and Yok clings to me with all the strength he has left. I feel him weakening. I don’t know that he can make it.

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