Page 113 of The Weaver

“The only true strength lies in action!” Ogahnkai shouted. “In nourishing the jungle’s roots with blood. The only true might is wielded by conquerors. And the greatest of conquerors is Zurvashi, the one true queen! Our queen of ash and bone, who will rise and conquer these lands once more!”

Another piece of Ahmya’s knot loosened, and her ankles separated by a finger’s width.

Ogahnkai lunged at the human.

“No!” Everything within Rekosh tightened with cold, devastating pressure.

Ogahnkai’s hand closed on Ahmya’s dress. She yanked the human off the ground and flung her into the pit.

Ahmya screamed.

Rekosh roared and surged forward, dragging his captors with him. He felt the sound in his chest, in his throat, shredding and clawing, but he could not hear anything over the echoing scream of his heartsthread.

He had to get to his mate. Had to tear through these vrix, no matter how many there were, no matter how much blood he had to spill.

At the edge of the pit, the two males poured their bowls of flaming spinewood sap onto the kindling.

CHAPTER 27

Ahmya groanedand shifted her shoulders to alleviate the pressure on a particularly pointy stick beneath her. Her landing had seen her poked, scratched, and gouged in many places, but she thankfully hadn’t suffered anything worse.

Some of the branches had snapped under her on impact, but many were fresh enough that they’d formed a springy layer that had cushioned her fall. It was a small thing, but she’d take any luck she could get right now.

Rekosh’s roars were bestial, fraught with rage, anguish, and fear that penetrated Ahmya to the depths of her soul. Hearing him so raw and ragged broke her heart.

If not for her, he could’ve fought. Could’ve run. Could’ve been free.

She lifted her head, and her eyes widened as icy terror swept through her, colder and more penetrating than the fiercest winter wind.

Smoke curled up from the wood at the pit’s far wall, turning the vrix standing at the edge into huge, looming shadow creatures. Demons from the darkest nightmare. The first licks offlame spread upward to some of the kindling, shifting from blue green to orange.

This was the perfect time for swearing. There were so many words she could’ve uttered just then, so many curses, yet there was only one she could think of.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Ahmya frantically swung her gaze around. She was near the center of the large pit, which was filled with fuel for the fire. But amidst that fuel, pieces of blackened bone jutted up. The remains of the vrix’s priorofferings, undoubtedly.

One of those bones was nearby. A rib, perhaps, from some large beast, but it didn’t matter what it was or where it had come from. All that mattered was that its end was splintered, leaving a sharp spike sticking straight up. Had she landed just a few feet to the side, that bone would have impaled her.

Ahmya’s eyes flicked up to the skeletal shrine standing over the other side of the pit.

She’d been there when Zurvashi had marched on Kaldarak, pursuing Ketahn. She’d watched Ivy, so small, so outmatched in every way, stand against the hulking, terrifying queen. And she’d watched Ivy, against all odds, not just survive the encounter but overcome her foe.

“You don’t get to win this time, either,” Ahmya whispered, wriggling her feet and spreading her legs. The rope had been tied tightly around her boots, and didn’t allow her much movement, even within her footwear, but her efforts on the knot had created some slack.

“Just when Iwantthese damn things to come off…”

The smoke thickened, and the flames crept closer.

Her heart raced, but she fought the urge to panic, fought the instinctual drive to kick as wildly as possible. Using her movements to scoot herself toward the jutting bone, she worked the rope deliberately, alternating the motions of her feet and legs.

Finally, the rope loosened enough for her feet to pull free from her boots.

“Yes!” Quickly spreading her legs, she braced her feet as best she could atop the branches, sat up, and bent forward, lifting her arms to blindly seek the jagged bone.

She caught only fleeting glimpses of Rekosh’s dark, struggling form through the smoke. His eyes blazed hotter and brighter than the fire, and she could almost feel him moving closer, battling for every inch. At least three vrix were restraining him, including the female called Ulkari.

Pain flared in her hand as the splintered bone cut her palm. Ahmya pressed her lips together, stifling a cry, and adjusted her arms.

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