Page 44 of Destroyer

Ru stared. “This,” she stammered, pointing at the dead guard, unable to form coherent thoughts. “Was it trying to kill me?”

“Get in the carriage,” growled Sybeth. Then she stood, brandishing her red-slick sword. She turned to the sun, her dark skin flecked with blood, and strode around the carriage, leaving Ru alone.

Ru could hear the ring of steel, the shouts and grunts of combat. Then a horrible, guttural scream rose from the other side of the carriage. Ru covered her ears, terrified, a lost child in a nightmare.

Everything here was new, a horror unlike any she had witnessed before.

She understood violence. Understood death. She had destroyed a dig site, vaporized dozens of souls in a moment. But she had been unconscious. Separate. She had never been so near the realities of death, watched the light seep from a man’s eyes.

Books, words, thoughts. They were nothing to the reality of what she heard now, the chaos of it, the suddenness of violent death.

Get in the carriage.

But her limbs were like jelly. Terror clamped on her muscles, holding her hostage.

New sounds snapped her to attention. Cursing, shouts, and someone bursting into the carriage from the other side. Ru tried to stand again, to dart toward the woods, but she was too slow. The guard scrambled through the carriage, seeing Ru as he leaped out, and tackled her to the ground from behind.

“Got ‘er!” he snarled.

Thoughts fled from Ru as instinct took over. She screamed and kicked, struggling against the much larger man.

She had lost her grip on the artifact. In the force of the attack, it had rolled from her grasp, coming to a stop at the edge of the road. Its blanket had unfurled, and the sun glanced off its black surface.

Ru scrabbled uselessly for the stone. It was miles away. The guard was a grown man in full armor, his weight on her back holding her easily in place. She was completely helpless as he lifted her to her knees, pinning her arms behind her.

She tried to bite him, tried to use her skull to bludgeon his nose, but it was pointless. He only laughed at her attempts.

“Help me with the bitch!” he called out. “She’s wriggling like a cat in heat.”

An icy fist gripped Ru's heart. She had only seen one of the guards die; where were the other two? Surely the riders could hold their own. She had seen Lyr's flashing eyes and Sybeth's confidence with a blade.

But where were they?

She began to shout, to call for help, but the guard quickly clamped a gloved hand over her mouth. She spluttered, the taste of dirt and old leather suffocating her.

Caught in a nightmare, unable to speak or move, Ru watched as a third guard, still mounted, rode around the carriage toward them. Blood dripped from the tip of his sword, spattering on the dusty road.

In what felt like slow motion, he dismounted and walked toward them. Dust rose from each of his heavy footfalls.

“Hurry up,” grunted the guard who held her, one hand holding her arms roughly behind her, the other still clamped on her mouth.

The approaching guard made no move to hurry. And as he came, Ru couldn't bring herself to look away. With wide-eyed horror, tears running down her cheek and over the guard's glove, she choked a sob.

She didn’t want to die like that guard, her eyes staring, unseeing, up at the sky.

“Stopwiggling,” her captor barked in her ear, yanking her close, her back to his chest.

His hand disappeared from her mouth, and a sudden pain exploded across her face as he struck her with the back of his hand. The blow was awkward, but the glove was reinforced with steel, the edge of it catching her skin. Stars spotted Ru's vision and she stilled, breathing hard. Hot blood dripped down her face.

The other guard never stopped stalking toward them. Ru watched him coming through blurred vision. From what felt like far away, she heard herself let out another strangled sob.

The artifact thrummed in her, a hot wave of emotion she couldn't place.

And then the guard was there, standing over them. His helmet’s visor was drawn, his features hidden behind cold steel. A blood-soaked angel of death.

“Give her to me,” he said, holding out a gloved hand.

“All yours,” spat the guard holding Ru, shoving her forward.

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