Page 34 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

Kopi cried out again as Zylah attempted to soothe her horse. “How many?”

“Three, I think.” He led his horse deeper amongst the trees, and Zylah followed. A bank provided a small amount of shelter, disguising the horses amongst thick bushes.

Zylahhadfaced far worse than Asters in Kerthen. But as more of the creatures called out to each other—strange cries that sounded as if they were injured—she knew there were more than three headed their way.

She followed Holt through the trees away from the horses, a rush of adrenaline spiking through her. Without her evanescing, she was at a disadvantage. A big one.

“Stay together,” Holt murmured, as if he’d had the same thought.

She looked up at him, hoping her expression was more convincing to him than she felt. “Just like old times, right?”

He huffed a breath in response, vapour clouding in front of him, and paused. They crouched side by side, and again Zylah had the strangest sensation that the sprites were watching them.

The first Aster appeared through the trees, rising from all fours onto its hind legs. It had the head of a wolf, thick horns and fangs and blood-red eyes, exactly as Zylah remembered. Wiry black hair covered its enormous body, its ghastly lips pulling back in a sneer as it sniffed at the air. Only it was wounded, just as Zylah suspected. Which didn’t make any sense, because nothing would be foolish enough to attack an Aster… would it?

Holt charged for it before Zylah could voice her concerns. He was at a disadvantage without his evanescing, but Zylah didn’t stop to dwell on that fact. As Holt occupied the Aster’s attention, she circled it from behind, swiping her sword at those strange hind legs that ended in hooves. The creature screamed as her blade hit bone, the force of her swing shaking through her. The beast twisted, but Holt was faster, his sword piercing through the Aster’s chest as it reached for her.

Blood sprayed from the wound as the creature howled, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. Echoing howls called out around them, branches snapping and breaths puffing.

Five Asters surrounded them, all wounded like the first, claw marks gouged into their flesh; one even had a splinter of bone glimmering white against its black fur. One sniffed at the air, huffing and chittering as if it were communicating with its two companions. It was afraid. And angry. And the only thing worse than a wild beast was a frightened, wounded one.

“Fuck,” Zylah breathed, her back pressed to Holt’s.

This was definitely worse than Kerthen.

Chapter Eleven

ThreeAstersbrokeofftowards Holt, but Zylah didn’t have time to watch what happened next. The remaining two swung for her, all fangs and claws and snarls. She rolled between the feet of the first, bringing her sword up to slash against its legs.

Only a flesh wound.

The beast roared and swiped for her, and she pulled herself to her feet, blade swinging.

The second Aster was distracted, and as Kopi’s cry tore through the forest, Zylah sucked in a breath. He was drawing the other Aster away from her.

The one she’d wounded growled as it faced her, blood dripping into wiry black hair. It towered over her on its hind legs, clawed hands swiping wildly at its face. Zylah stared into the creature’s hideous red eyes, wet and glistening with blood. It couldn’t see clearly, which meant that whatever had wounded it had been intelligent enough to go for its eyes.

A chilling scream sounded in the distance, and the Aster jerked its head in the direction of the cry, a small whimper escaping from its ghastly lips.

Zylah tightened her grip on her sword, pushing her fear down into that hollowed-out place inside her. She backed up a step towards a low-hanging branch, and before the Aster could reach for her, swung up onto the branch and shimmied up as high as she could get. Teeth snapped at her cloak, but Zylah didn’t falter.

She paused on the branch, heart racing in her chest, watching the Aster as it flinched at another cry from wherever they were coming from within the forest, its enormous head swinging left and right, hot breaths puffing from its snout in clouds. It was right beneath her, its horns dangerously close to her soft flesh as she slammed her sword into the creature’s neck, shoving the blade down until she felt it connect with bone.

The beast shrieked, clawed hands reaching for her sword and ripping her from the tree. Zylah’s breath left her in a broken gasp as she hit the ground, her sword narrowly missing her face. The Aster staggered forwards a step before it let out a wet sigh, collapsing to the earth and trapping her legs beneath it.

The moment Zylah wasted looking at it was a moment too long, and this time fear flared within her, sharp and sudden. The second Aster howled and charged her. Zylah pulled one foot free, and the Aster roared. She heaved at her other leg with frantic movements, the Aster closing the space between them, claws shredding through flesh just as she pulled her foot from its hold. Adrenaline numbed the pain, and Zylah didn’t dare look down. Her sword was in her hands and she struck and slashed and sliced, blood spraying across her face as the Aster did the same, nothing but sheer desperation urging her to keep going until her final blow struck the Aster’s head and it stilled.

Zylah didn’t see it fall. She fell back in the dirt, clutching her sword to her chest and watching the first few flakes of snow fall. Tiny wings fluttered at the corner of her vision, the sound of the strange scream-turned-roar getting closer, leaves and vines creaking and cracking.

And then darkness.

Zylah blinked.

Looked down at herself, which was the first thing that told her something was wrong. She was lookingather body, lying still in the dark. She crawled over to herself and pressed a hand to her wrist to check her pulse, but her fingers were nothing but a shimmer of blue.

“Am I dead?” she whispered, inspecting her ethereal hand and arm as she knelt before her physical body.

“Do you want to be?”

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