Page 73 of Court of Heathens

Blinking, I look around the room, wondering how long I was out. Candles have burned down, but I don’t see the necromancer or my men. “Guys?” I croak, so I clear my throat as I step from the circle, carefully avoiding the motionless bodies standing like statues. “Hello?”

There’s a bang that makes me jump, and I whirl, my eyes narrowing in confusion.

There are three black caskets with chains wrapped around them. Zombies stand guard on either side, their eyes locked on me.

“Guys?” I murmur as I step closer, only to stop when there’s another bang and one of the coffins jumps.

My ears strain as I move closer. “Freya!” The scream makes my heart stop.

Phrixius.

My eyes move to the other coffins.

Three.

Oh god. I rush over.

“Run! It’s a trap!” he bellows.

I turn, ready to use my magic, but it’s too late. He stands right behind me, grinning, and as I lift my hands to fling my spell at him, he blows a glittering black powder into my face. I cough as I fall back, my vision going dark, and then suddenly, darkness closes around me once more.

Only this time, it’s sleep.

I wake with a gasp, my eyes suddenly clearing. Everything feels too hot, too tight, and my mouth has a horrible taste in it. How much time has passed? Where am I?

Where are my guys? Are they alive?

Fear fills me as my vision finally clears enough for me to see my hands, and my heart freezes in my chest when I recognise the buildings around me.

Necromancer City.

It stands tall around me, too tall, and I frown, realising I’m kneeling in the middle of a street. To my left is a shop, and to my right is a familiar door—his home. I’m kneeling outside of it.

How long was I out?

“Good, you’re finally awake,” he calls from inside the dark home, and then he fades into view at the door, stepping out into the lantern-lit way. He doesn’t stop until he is before me.

“My men,” I rasp.

“Oh, the three you came with? They are alive for now. They could be useful. They were easy to defeat.” I frown, knowing they are unstoppable. “One threat to you was all it took, and they got into those coffins willingly, refusing to let me harm you. Foolish, they knew I would anyway, but they couldn’t bear to be the reason you were hurt. I knew you were special. Look at you, you will be magnificent, and if you can turn them to our side, then you can turn anyone.”He crouches before me, his hand lingering above my skin. “Magnificent.”

His hand lowers, hovering above my chest as I stare into his eyes. He threatened my men, and they did what he said so he wouldn’t hurt me? No, Phrixius wouldn’t risk letting him go like that, right?

“However . . .” He meets my gaze, and agony tears through me, his fist slamming through my chest, carried by his power. His hand wraps around my heart as I scream and writhe. “They cannot have this. It belongs to us. It’s time to wake up, little witch. It’s time to come home to us where you belong. This will make you weak. I will rip that weakness out of you.”

The agony only triples, and I watch in horror as darkness crawls down his arm and seeps into my chest, wrapping around my heart.

“You cannot fight this.” He chuckles. “I am stronger.”

I shake my head as I try to fight off the memories bombarding me. He smirks, and I know it’s him. He’s in my head again, in my body, controlling me, and I cannot stop it. They consume me once more, flinging me into the past.

Screams echo in my head as flashes of death fill my mind. There is so much death—women, men, children, and the elderly. Their blood sprays across me until I swear I can taste it. The gods laugh as they fall.

So much death.

So much pain.

There’s a sobbing teenage girl curled over her big brother. She lifts her head, meeting my gaze, and then a spear pierces her chest and is gone in the same instant. She falls, covering his body, her hand still in his as she dies. There’s an old man holding his wife, tears silently streaming down his face as he watches me come for him. His eyes close as the blade strikes.

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