Page 109 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

Those deadly tendrils disperse before they waver around me for a second, seemingly suspended. Then they regroup and come for me in dark arrows. Fast.

I’m dead.Panic threatens to consume me but I refuse to give in, refuse to step back but keep focusing on my own fury, flaring up like a wall of white flames around me, shielding me against the dark magic, catalyzed by my cast-iron will.I want out. I want to rip them open.

If they want to kill me, let them come—because I will fight back.

And I’m going to win.

Because I fucking won’t die today.

Those white flames flare, dousing the arrows’ brimming black power, their speed, and they turn back into sticky, black threads. Reflexively, I spread my fingers andcommandthose tendrils to reform until they’re snaking around my hand, still tame and no longer fatal. I gasp as it works, gasp at my own recklessness, as my body does it all by itself and I’m moving my hand, slowly twining and untwining the threads of magic.

I have no clue what the hells I’m doing but it seems to work. I’m not dead yet. Maybe another of my talents? But I don’t have time to think about that because the air suddenly flickers and the barrier—gone.

I pull my hand back and let out a shuddering breath.

I did that.Well, some part of me did that.Dwell on it later!I slip through the door.

On the other side, I absently put my hand back against the stone wall of the Fortress and command the wards to seal the entrance again. The stone warms under my palm and I feel the magic that runs through it like veins through a body obeying; the gentlest of night-kissed shadows brushes against my cheek before the wall cools under my skin.

I glance up. I’m right under the sky, above me the beginning orange of a sunset already strewn with the first stars.

Freedom. For the first time in a long time, there are no walls around me, nothing but sky over my head. For a moment, I just stare, breathe in the vastness of the arid wasteland that stretches out before me. Then I slip into my boots and start to jog down the small trail of stairs that’s been hewn into the reddish rock.

Only when I reach the last one do I look up to see the Fortress—the beautiful building made of stone, metal, and glass—elegantly and frighteningly enthroned on the hill.

With a final glance, I turn my head toward the city and run.

35

Melody

Running has always been a matter of instinct.

But so has sensing danger.

I’m halfway to the city when the ground suddenly starts shaking, as if something monstrous is slithering underneath, so hard that I fall. I brace myself, my hands and knees scratching over the rough terrain.

As quickly as it came, it stops again, like a spent earthquake.

I take a few more steps. The trembling starts again. It’s the only warning before the soil in front of me suddenly erupts. The ground gapes open, stones flying through the air.

A giant worm comes shooting out, its mouth a yawning hole filled with ring after ring of saw-like teeth, two evil-looking pincers right in front.

My heart stops before it starts to hammer.

The worm surges…

And misses me by a yard.

I’m already running for dear life. I saw no eyes on the creature, so my only hope is that it’s blind. I store the information away. Not that this will be of too much help. I bet it can detect me by vibrations or even smell alone, but it might buy me a few precious seconds.

Behind me, the worm disappears into the ground again, the world reverberating from its thunderous movements. I wait until it’s right under me.

Then I stop dead, trying not to even breathe.

Fear squeezes my heart, closing in on my ribs.

Ifeelthe creature’s senses zeroing in on me.

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