Page 77 of Mother of Death and Dawn

But it was the face that paralyzed me as the thing staggered, turning back towards me.

It had once been a face, at least. I could make out the shape of a humanoid skull, a brow bone, streaks of long dirty red hair, and—were those pointed ears?

But the eyes were nothing but pits of torn flesh, crackling with the same light as the wound down its abdomen. And the entire lower part of its face, mouth and jaw, were missing, as if hacked away and discarded.

Its face snapped towards me.

I dove, and a split second later I felt it land behind me.

Where was my axe? I’d dropped it somewhere when I lost consciousness, but Ascended knew where.

I caught a glimpse of gleaming metal and dove for it.

…only for a sudden pain to light up across my back.

I stumbled. Lurched around. Another soldier was there, sword drawn and bloodied. Fuck, how many of these people were there?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the creature lurch. It moved strangely, like a puppet controlled by too-long strings.

A flash of steel. Movement in the woods. Brayan, diving at the creature.

That’s a terrible fucking idea, you idiot,I wanted to yell at him. Brayan was never good at knowing when he was outmatched.

I kicked my attacker down, buying enough time to grab my axe.

A second more and I would have been dead. Instead, I was just fast enough that it was my weapon buried in the man’s neck rather than the other way around.

But I was injured. When I tried to get back to my feet, I stumbled, and the world tilted. Blurred.

A garden. A stone house. A single green eye.

Get up.

I did, somehow.

That creature was not looking at me. No, it was facing away—and that somehow managed to be twice as terrifying, because if it wasn’t coming for me, it was going for Brayan.

I forced myself into a run.

That thing—that monster—would kill him.

It was standing still. White magic snapped in unnatural fissures in the air around it. It was looking down.

I ran faster.

I raised my palms. I was close enough to smell the stench of rotting flesh.

It was going to kill my brother.

Get up, Max.

Do something. Act.

I opened my palms and released a wall of flames.

The creature let out a terrible, human-sounding scream of agony. Its too-long legs tangled as it tried to face me.

At first, I didn’t notice the pain. But I looked down and saw my skin bubbling, the ink of the Stratagram tattoos burning into me like acid.

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