Page 27 of The Arrow and the Alder

Seph yelped as she hit the ground seconds later. The breath left her lungs, and she rolled over, coughing and gasping for air. The coat and shovel had slipped from her grasp, her shoulder and ribs ached where she’d landed, and though she looked desperately around, she could see nothing but darkness.

She felt blindly around. Her fingers grazed earth and a few pebbles until she caught the soft, velvety fabric of the coat.

Seph sighed her relief, which was quickly dispelled when voices sounded above, followed by a diffused halo of light. The lantern slid into view as the baron and Kole peered into the pit she’d, apparently, fallen into. A dark bruise was forming around the baron’s right eye, which Seph was glad to see.

“Even the saints conspire your justice,” the baron said with triumph.

Thankfully, the lantern had also illuminated the shovel. Seph picked it up and held it like a weapon. “Touch me, and you will never touch anything else ever again.”

The baron considered her with predatory eyes. “Unfortunately for you, that is not how this ends.” He took his time, as if delighting in her turmoil and his impending victory. “You disrespected a kith high lord, and then you murdered one of my own men in cold blood. Justice must be served.”

This was the story he would spin to the people of Harran. This would be her new legacy.

Seph’s body trembled with fury. “Do not speak to me of justice while you send Harran’s men off to war and you sit in the comfort of your estate.Do not speak to me of justicewhile we starve and you feast from our sacrifice. May you burn in hell, you manipulative, self-serving snake.”

A fat vein throbbed at the baron’s temple, and to Kole, he said, “Find a branch long enough to get her out, and bring her to me.” Each word was articulated like a promise of torture and pain.

Seph felt desperately around the pit’s walls, searching for anything she might climb—roots, rocks…anything—but the walls were too steep and too soft. Soon, Kole returned with a long branch. He clamped his dagger between his teeth and slid the branch over the edge.

A horrible screech rent the night, warped and otherworldly.

Seph’s blood turned to ice.

What wasthat?

“The hell was that?” asked the guard, mirroring Seph’s own thoughts. His attention diverted to a sky veiled by mist and darkness.

“Hurry,” growled the baron.

Kole had pushed the branch over the edge again when a massive, winged shadow swooped out of the mist and plucked him from the ground. Kole screamed as the creature carried him higher, legs kicking. His screams cut short and something hot and wet and thick rained upon Seph’s face.

Blood.

What in the blazing stars…? Was it a depraved? Seph had never seen one before––if itwasa depraved, what the hell was it doing outside of little Harran?

The baron gripped the lantern as he looked wildly around then furiously down at Seph. Another screech sounded, and another, and the mist churned like a storm. One shadow dove, and—in a split-second’s desperation—the baron jumped into the pit.

With the lantern.

He landed before Seph and rolled, moaning as the lantern slipped from his fingers and into the mud. The glass broke, spilling oil into the dirt, and it struggled to stay aflame. Seph kept flat against the pit’s wall, holding the coat and shovel, trying to stay out of the glow and remain unseen by the monsters circling above.

The baron shoved himself to his knees, murder in his eyes. He’d picked something off the ground—a blade. The one Kole had been holding between his teeth. He must’ve dropped it when that monster took him.

“Give me that coat,” the baron snarled. “Pass its power to me, and I will make your death quick.”

“You can go to hell.”

“Have it your way,” the baron said just as a monster landed in the pit, right behind him.

Seph’s heart nearly stopped beating.

She’d never seen such horror before, and no description could do justice to the nightmare. This creature was a corruption born of man, shaped like a mortal memory, but exaggerated proportions and contorted, protruding bones made it an abomination. It stood upon two legs, and in place of arms were two ribbed, bat-like wings that extended from its grossly bowed back. Its eyes were black and hollow like an insect’s, its nose as flat as a serpent’s, and brilliant red blood dripped from the razor-sharp teeth set within its elongated jaw. It looked like it’d flown straight from the pits of hell.

These were the bone masks the kith high lord and his guard had worn, Seph realized. This contortion of good, this demon made of flesh and bone. Thisdepraved—for Seph knew it could be no other creature, and she was paralyzed with fear.

The baron must have seen something upon Seph’s face because his expression morphed from determination to concern. The creature emitted a low and rumbling growl, and the baron—slowly—peered over his shoulder.

The depraved ripped the baron’s head from his body.

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