Page 2 of The Cruel Dawn
“This is Vallendor,” I snarl back. “Myrealm, and no one tells me where I can or cannot be. Especially an aburan who holds no title to—”
The beast roars again.
My skin goose-pimples, and my knees quake.One day, a kiss instead of a kill…I lift my sword and wait for him to get closer…closer…
He charges, but I wait, and I wait, and then…
I swing.
Teeth bared, the aburan successfully ducks my swipe—but he doesn’t expect my blade’s quick return.
Fury finds the otherworldly’s neck and pushes through that fur and bone like a hot stone through snow. Beheaded, the body of the aburan topples to the dirt, surprise bright in his beady human eyes.
Yeah, I’m also surprised to be here, sir—especially since I don’t even know where we are.
Last time I opened my eyes to a strange new world, I ended up chasing a thief through a dying forest. She’d stolen my clothes and ran into a crummy little village filled with unhappy people who tried to kill me.
Didn’t turn out so good for them in the end.
Didn’t turn out so good for me, either.
Before being attacked, I’d opened my eyes to the world around me, sprawled on my belly in a sea of red dirt filled with mysterious shoeprints too big to be the average human’s. Now, I return to peer closer at thoseone…two…threepairs of prints, each a different size.
Who made these prints—and why are they so close to my face?
I squint at the dead beast’s feet.
Bare. Bear.
He didn’t make any of these tracks left in the red dirt.
I sneeze—sand in my nose—then scan the desert in front of me.
Jagged-edged craters filled with red dirt and glistening white bones. Sheer walls rise up there and end as plateaus. Goats with curled horns climb on barely there crags and ledges. Long-legged hares hop from one underground den to the next. Yellow lizards big as hounds, with three heads and three jaws strong enough to crack boulders, sun themselves on rocks. A pack of gray wolves with wings too small to fly slurp from a muddy watering hole.
I can smell that water way over here. Smells like dead things. Musty things. Shitty things.
Every creature that I see glows amber.That’s right.I can tell who is sick and dying by the glow they emit, and in this realm, that soft light burns amber.
But none of these animals at the watering hole or resting across boulders made these tracks.
With a shaky hand, I touch the amulet still hanging from my sweaty neck. The moth’s gold chain still shines bright. Her ruby-crusted wings twinkle, but the stone thorax stays as dark as the night. Dead as it may appear, this amulet still gives me power and proves that I’m no ordinary Vallendorian. At least she’s mine. Chasing her all over Vallendor again is not how I aim to spend my time.
What’s that smell?
I sniff the air.
Smells like…dead things riding upon a living thing.
The air warms—whatever lurks here hasn’t come to welcome me to this part of the realm.
Good.
I push to sit up on my knees. My body creaks beneath my rose-gold armor, tarnished and gunked-up. Dried gore from humans and beasts covers my breastplate, vambraces, and gauntlets. Beneath my tunic, my bones feel as shattered as stardust with my armor now just a fancy casserole dish holding me together. My bloodred hooded cape, though, remains unspoiled, free of dirt and blood—a benefit of the protective wards stitched into its fabric.
The ground beneath my feet vibrates.
Whatever lurks here has decided to come visit, and I feel its presence before I see—
