Page 117 of Of Empires and Dust

Something slammed into Ella’s chest and sent her bouncing back off the hard-packed ground. Fingers wrapped around her shirt, pulling tight, then someone knelt over her.

“You killed him.” Ella’s vision was still blurred, but the face above her was all angles, sharp and sleek. Vibrant amber eyes shone through the haze. “I will make this slow.”

Ella let the wolf loose. The familiar red mist tinted her vision, and before she could think, her claws were buried in the neck of the man who knelt over her.

She could feel the vibrations of his attempted scream, but all that came out was a gurgle, luminous white blood spitting from his lips. She dragged him closer, claws tearing skin, then opened her jaws and ripped out his throat, spitting a hunk of flesh into the dirt.

The man dropped in a heap at Ella’s side, white blood spilling from the wound.

She looked again into the man’s eyes, her head no longer spinning. It was the younger of the two. More a child than a man. Fourteen summers at most. Her stomach lurched but she held herself together. She didn’t have the time to dwell. She could feel the older man’s heart, the pulse steadily rising, growing louder.

Ella crawled backwards, shaking the stars from her eyes. The older man just stood there, staring at the boy’s body. He didn’tspeak, didn’t move an inch, but Ella could smell the bitter blend of sorrow and rage wafting from him.

She stumbled to her feet, grabbing purchase on a rough tree trunk. Her head spun again at her sudden change in orientation, her stomach turning. With each passing moment, more aches and pains set into her bones as the rush from her fall faded.

Something shifted in the air, a change in the smell.

The older man’s eyes snapped to Ella, his pupils widening, head cocking to the side. Ella’s hackles stood on end and signalled only one instinct:run.

Ella bolted through the brush, half-sprinting, half-staggering, her legs disobeying like petulant children, still shaken from the fall. She clambered over fallen trees and tore through dense foliage, never looking down, her instincts carrying her.

The wolf was in control.

She didn’t have to look back to know the man was in chase. She could hear his every movement,feelhis fury. At any other time, she would have turned and fought, but the wolf refused. Whoever this man was, he had seen Ella tear that boy to pieces and still chased her like a predator would a fleeing doe. Something about his smell told her he was far more dangerous than she was.

A shriek erupted to Ella’s left. She twisted just in time to avoid the hawk that swooped past her, talons readied. The creature spun in the air and whirled off between two trees. Before Ella could collect herself, the hawk dropped from above, screeching.

She wasn’t quick enough. The bird’s talons wrapped around her forearm and sank into flesh. She screamed and went tumbling, bouncing off the earth and rolling to a stop with acrack.

The hawk’s talons squeezed, sharp as razors, and Ella screamed again. The creature tore through Ella’s shirt with its beak, ripping a strip of flesh from her shoulder. Ella lashed out with her free arm, sinking her claws into the bird and squeezing with every drop of strength she had. Bones snapped, but the bird’s talons continued to carve into her arm.

The red mist consumed Ella, and she slammed the hawk against a tree trunk, her claws crushing its hollow frame, ghostly white mist streaming into the air. Again and again, she smashed until the bird was nothing more than shattered bone and white-bloodied feathers.

Ella rolled onto her back, her entire body throbbing, silvery-white blood flowing from the wounds in her forearm and shoulder. She crawled backwards on her elbows, but the older man was atop her in seconds.

He loomed over her, his head cocked to the side, three more hawks perched on branches above him. The man’s hair was long and grey, his body lean, his skin marked by time. His eyes were an unnatural yellow, his pupils huge and black as coals. Sweat dripped from the tip of his nose as he let out a slow breath. “Fenryr then… You dogs never seem to die easy.”

“Who…” Ella swallowed, trying to get some spit in her dry mouth. “Who are you?”

“Doesn’t matter, girl. Dead people have no use for knowledge.”

“I don’t understand.” Ella grimaced, wrapping her fingers around the pumping wound. “Why?”

The man snorted, a bead of sweat dripping from his nose and onto Ella’s neck. He lifted his foot, then stomped on Ella’s leg. She cried out, her flesh tearing open as though sliced by knives.

Ella lunged forwards desperately. She would not just lie down and wait for death. She swung her right hand at the man’sleg, but he crunched his fist into her face and her head bounced backwards, her vision blurring and eyelids drooping.

“Why do we do anything, girl?” The man spoke with a calm, level tone as though this were just another day, just another life he would snuff.

Ella’s head flopped to the left in a daze, and she saw he wore no shoes. The skin on his bare feet blended from human flesh to wrinkled and leathered, taking on a yellowish hue. His toes were bent and curled, long black talons sinking into the earth.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t take any pleasure in this.” Through drooping lids, her head ringing, Ella saw the man bend over and lift a large rock into his arms. “War is war.”

“Please,” Ella managed to mutter, the taste of blood on her tongue. “You don’t have to.”

“I do…” The man’s tone shifted, rising higher. His pulse quickened, the slightest tinge of fear in his scent.

Ella flinched at the sound of the rock hitting the ground a few feet away. It was then she noticed the other scent in the air, heard the other heartbeat.

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