Page 32 of Kingdom of Chaos
Ensley shrieks as the vehicle rocks side to side on the uneven road, and I throw my arm across her to steady both of us. Behind us, a seismic crack ripples through the ground.
“Roots!” I shout, peering out the back window. “They’re moving!”
Trees along the drive behind us writhe like they’re alive. Branches twist and tangle, slamming down across the road in rapid succession. The cheetah is still giving chase and gaining on us again as thick roots burst from the earth, snaking upward to form an enormous living barricade. Bark splits and groans as the trees fuse into a wall so dense, it swallows the path behind us.
A second later, an impact rocks the barricade. The whole wall shudders, but holds. I don’t see the cheetah anymore. I don’t even see the castle’s outer walls. It’s like the forest swallowed everything.
My heart pounds as Titus collapses beside me. Sweat beads on his brow; his face has gone waxy and pale. He looks like he’s seconds from passing out. Considering the magic he just unleashed to command those trees, I’m shocked he’s still conscious at all.
“Titus?” I say, placing a hand on his arm.
He doesn’t respond. His eyes are glassy, unfocused. He’s breathing—but barely.
On the other side of him, Ensley grabs his shoulder and gives it a gentle shake, panic washing over her face.
“Keep him upright,” Talon orders from the front. “We need him alert in case that wall doesn’t hold.”
Ensley cradles Titus to keep him from slumping sideways as Imogen barrels forward, the SUV bouncing over roots and stones littering the drive. She doesn’t let up, and I don’t blame her. Whatever’s chasing us might find another way around. And we’re not out of the woods yet.
Literally.
We reach the narrow gap at the end of the drive and Imogen slows just enough to squeeze through. I glance out the back window, not spotting any pursuers, and breathe a little easier.
Titus’ eyes are half lidded, his skin still pale, but as the Valkyrie steadies on the turn, he shifts and blinks, like he’s slowly pulling himself back into the moment. His breathing evens. It’s still shallow, but steadier, and he lifts a hand to grip the edge of the seat for balance.
Ensley leans in closer, laying a hand on his bicep. “Are you all right?”
He glances down at her fingers curled around his arm; a faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just used up a ton of magic. I need a little time to recover, but I’ll be fine.”
He glances at me, then shifts his gaze to Talon and Imogen up front. Talon is half turned in his seat, eyes flicking between Titus and the back window as if expecting the trees to part and another attack to come charging through. His body is still coiled, alert, even though the danger seems to have passed.
“If there was any doubt that was the real deal before,” Titus says with a tired chuckle, “I think that settles it.”
In the rearview mirror, I catch Imogen’s gaze as she glances at Titus. Her brow is furrowed with concern, but she stays silent.
“Here,” Titus murmurs, holding out his hand. The pendant dangles from the chain clenched in his fingers.
I take the necklace and slip it back over my head. Talon’s eyes track the motion until it settles against my chest. Then his gaze lifts to meet mine. There’s something unreadable in his expression, hollow maybe, but it vanishes as he turns away and faces forward again.
“Okay, Imogen,” he says, his voice clipped. “You wormed your way into this, so where are we going?”
I watch her profile as she licks her lips, her fingers tightening on the wheel. “As you know, the nearest gate is down in New Harbor. But we can’t go there.”
She’d said as much before. Reaching down, she grabs the book she waved at Talon earlier and hands it over. He opens it, flipping through the worn pages.
“The only other gate on the continent we can reach that won’t be swarmed is at the Devil’s Mouth.”
Devil’s Mouth?
Talon’s head snaps toward Imogen. “You sure about that?” His tone is sharp with surprise, though I don’t know exactly what’s caught him off guard.
“See for yourself,” she says, lifting one hand from the wheel to gesture toward the book.
Silence settles over the car as Talon flips through the pages, his brow furrowed in concentration. After a couple more turns, Imogen weaves the vehicle smoothly back onto the main road that leads out of town, the only sound the steady thrum of tires on asphalt.
The longer he searches, the thicker the tension grows, until finally Talon exhales hard and snaps the book shut.
“Looks like we’re headed to the swamps.”
