Page 93 of Ash and Feather

Good.

They could focus on dealing with any enemies who had already slipped inside or made their way into the tunnels. Dravyn and I could keep any more from attempting to breach the gates.

I breathed a sigh, glad to have a clear purpose and—

A terrifying rumble sounded from somewhere behind me.

I spun toward it, nearly losing my balance in the process.

It sounded far away, yet it was violent and powerful enough that the wall beneath me—and the ones behind me—trembled. Afew tiny cracks appeared in them. The few remaining guards in the gatehouses rushed outside, surveying the damage.

Dravyn was by my side a minute later. I grabbed his arm, steadying myself as another tremor rocked the walls.

As soon as the shaking stopped, he took my hand. Together, we leapt to the second wall. Then the third. Then the fourth and still onward, racing from one to the next without stopping, dashing across their tops at an increasingly dizzying pace, occasionally aided by his wings.

Finally, we came to the last of the outer defenses—a short, narrow wall with sharp spikes all along its edge.

Just as we started to leap over this final barrier, another tremor shook the world, sending us pitching forward and nearly tumbling over the edge.

We caught ourselves and crouched in place, waiting for the shaking to subside.

It took a long time.

Long enough for us to get a good look at the spikes we still had to cross over, and see just how wickedly sharp they were.

And long enough to see that some of those spikes had severed elven heads impaled upon them.

Chapter 23

Karys

Dravyn averted his eyes.

I wanted to look away, too, but couldn’t.

The blood oozing from the nearest heads still glistened in the moonlight.

“It looks…fresh,” I said softly.

“More proof that some have already managed to breach the defenses tonight, as we feared,” Dravyn said.

And as a reward they had become a gruesome warning to anyone who might think they could do the same.

Dravyn and I continued without another word. Words would only weigh us down, and we couldn’t risk being anchored to this spot.

We vaulted over the blood-soaked spikes, bounced against the narrow top of the wall, and soared down the other side in a flurry of fire and feathers.

I stared straight ahead as we landed, bracing myself for whatever awaited us, refusing to look toward the spikes again.

We were properly inside the sprawling compound of Mindoth’s Keep, now. It was almost empty where we landed, most of the soldiers either focused on fortifying the walls at our backs, or else running toward the sounds of explosions and rumblings in the distance—sounds that were becoming more violent and more numerous every moment.

We joined the ones racing toward the explosions.

Soon, we came upon a larger crowd, most of them gathered on the docks along the area’s edge, working to unload things from several different vessels and then helping to evacuate the ones manning them. The sea churned restlessly against their efforts—a side effect of the underground rumblings that continued to regularly rock the area.

There were pockets of damage scattered about; cracked ground and shattered windows; broken cargo boxes and spilled goods; a few completely still, cloth-draped heaps—covered bodies, I suspected. The stench of death was nearly buried beneath the tang of sea salt, but it was unmistakable.

And it was growing stronger.

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