Page 72 of Court of Heathens

Inclining my head, I follow after them, carefully now, since we know what awaits us inside, if only slightly. The darkness of the night wraps around us as we move towards the church, the moon seemingly not reaching here as if afraid of what is inside.

We share a look at the door, and Adder leans over and kisses my cheek. “Be careful, little witch, and leave the killing to us. Give us a route to him.”

Swallowing nervously, I watch as Phrixius heads inside, followed by Adder then Sha. Taking one last look behind us, I step over the threshold and into the church.

It is not how we left it. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it is so much worse.

Blood still paints the walls, but there is more now. Words I do not understand cover every inch, even the floor and forgotten pews.

Standing against each wall are the decaying corpses of those from the graves outside, their dark eyes locked on us as they wait.

They speak as one. “Welcome home, heathens.”

Standing between my men, I search for the necromancer, but I cannot see him. The candles covering nearly every inch of the ring spring to life, their wax starting to drip across the floor like blood. At the altar, a blood-red candle burns brightly, and I spy a beating heart atop it, pierced by a blade.

It’s eerily quiet, and I hesitate for a moment before stepping from their midst. I feel the guys reach for me, but I tug away, treading farther down the path between the bodies and pews. “Where are you? I know you’re here. I can taste you,” I call.

“You brought friends,” the bodies say together.

Wax drips down on me from candles hanging from the ceiling, but I don’t let my hiss escape as it slides down my cheek and then pauses there, hardening like a tear. More droplets land on my shoulders, in my hair, and down my back, coating me like blood.

“You know why we are here,” I tell him. Part of me hates what we are going to do, and I feel sorry for him, but he made his choice, and I am making mine. “I cannot be what you want me to be. I cannot turn my back on the world.”

“It has turned its back on us!” they screech, and I stop myself from covering my ears. I feel blood sliding down my neck from them, but I stand tall, and when it stops, I step forward again, showing I am unafraid.

There is only one thing a man like him respects—power.

“Enough, talking will not get us anywhere. You have made your choice, and I am making mine. I choose this world and these people.”

It’s quiet, and I step forward, searching him out in the bodies. My gaze catches on something black. It’s a robe, and my eyes narrow as I head closer. “Come out.”

“Freya,” Adder warns.

“I know,” I hiss, and then I turn when there’s a flash of black. He appears behind my men, and my eyes widen. “Behind you!”

He’s gone just as quickly, but his army steps forward, their eyes turning to my men. “Now!” Phrixius tells me.

I slam my darkness through the bodies, taking control of them like I did my zombie, but his laughter rings out.

He appears before me, wearing a grin, and presses his finger to my forehead.

“Just what I wanted.” Suddenly, the control I had yanks on me, and I tumble into the empty, cold grave.

It was a trap.

He wanted me to take control. He wanted to trap me inside them.

I feel my body, still and empty, as my name is screamed, yet I cannot see, feel, or move.

It was like when I was inside the zombie, only this time everything is dark. It closes around me like a cage, trapping me there with his power, which means . . . it can be broken.

I calm myself like Phrixius taught me, and then I flood my system with my own power, meeting his and ripping into it. I focus on pushing him back. It’s like peeling tar, and I grow agitated but try to focus. If I let my anger get the better of me, he will consume me again.

It’s a battle of wills, and I refuse to lose while my men are fighting him alone.

I don’t know how much time passes, but it feels like forever, and when I finally manage to push back that last bit of darkness, I realise it wasn’t me. It was him—he retreated.

He releases me, and I gasp as I slam back into my body, my eyes watering from the sudden shock. My limbs shake as I stumble forward. Everything is different—everything has moved. My head swings around in fear. I am standing in a ring of candles, with zombies kneeling before me, facing outwards, and my men are nowhere in sight.

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