Page 48 of Court of Shadows
“We could shelter here,” he said, gazing up at the gray sky.
“I don’t like it,” I replied, glancing in every direction. “It’s out in the open. And if it’s sacred...”
“All right, Bennu, you win. We will find somewhere else,” he grumbled. “If only this accursed rain would end.”
We passed under one stone gate and into the circle where it was clearer. Those who had built the sacred circle had left markings in the grass and bits of stone, swirls and circles, intricate and precise. I wondered if we should be walking across them at all, but Khent did not hesitate, casting his head back and watching the giant snake above us, angling his path toward its tail.
“See how she flies more quickly?” Khent called to me through the rain, pointing. “We must be close. She’s eager to take us there.”
“Eager? Ha. If she wants to get there faster, she could allow us to ride.”
“That’s the spirit,” he joked. “You are Bennu the Runner, yes? Not Bennu the Flier.”
“Yougave me that name! I see no reason to abide by it.”
We both laughed, and my heart gladdened from the sound and from the sudden change of fortune in our favor—the rain lessened to a far more tolerable drizzle. When we were again in silence I heard the distant humming of bees, and cast about for hives. There had been few insects at all with the steady rain, but now I heard what sounded like a massive swarm.
Khent put out a hand, my chest bumping into it as he tilted his head to the side. He had heard it, too. We had not yet crossed the clearing in the stone circle. Had we angered the locals and invoked some kind of curse?
“A swarm?” I whispered, clutching the satchel with trembling fingers. “From where?”
“There, to the south; do you see those shapes that move across the clouds like cranes?”
“Bigger than cranes,” I murmured. “Swifter, too.”
They were indeed creatures of the air, though as large as men and hurtling toward us at great speed. Before I could see them clearly or speak another word, Khent grabbed me by the shawl and pulled, urging me into a run.
“Look above you, friend. Do you see the moon? We are in no position to make a stand, not in daylight,” he huffed. He was faster than I was, and I struggled to keep up. Reaching over, he pulled the satchel from my shoulder, and I was grateful to be relieved of it as we fled.
“We cannot outrun them,” I panted, glancing over myshoulder and feeling my heart stutter, not just from the chase but from the sight of three winged monsters diving toward us. I shrieked and ducked my head as one swooped low, a hard talon scraping across the top of my hood.
We dove toward one of the stone gates, finding meager cover from our pursuers.
Khent dropped the satchel between us, backing up against one of the pillars and grabbing me close to his side.
“That sound,” he whispered, staring up with wide, frightened eyes as the winged things hovered and circled, the hum of bees loud enough now to drown out all other sounds in the valley. “Wasps. Wings. Servants of Roeh, no doubt, but none like I have ever faced.”
“They’re chanting,” I replied, cowering at his shoulder. “What are they saying?”
“I don’t know.” Khent ducked down and peeled off his own pack, rummaging inside and coming up with a crude bronze knife he had bartered for days ago. “And I don’t care. Chanting will do nothing to stop the bleeding.”
I did not share his confidence, staring up in mute terror. There were three of them, each with six massive white wings. The feathers looked more like knives than tufts of soft white. One pair of wings stretched around from the shoulders, covering their faces; another pair of lower wings wrapped around to hide their feet, almost demurely, their torsos draped in white shrouds threaded with gold.
And they had not come unprepared. Each of them wielded a sword, a long, honed blade of pure silver.
Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus...
The chanting was like a drone, a drone intertwining with the rising hum of the bees. That sound emanated from within them, as if they were being held aloft by the power of hundreds of buzzing little creatures. Khent brandished the knife, daring one to come forward.
“Watch our backs,” he hissed. “We mustn’t let them flank us.”
“Khent, we are outnumbered. Look at those swords.”
“I have noted the swords, Bennu; watch our backs!”
“Sanctus!” One of the creatures, face still hidden, screamed its chant louder, a piercing call that preceded its charge. I felt the wind on my face as its massive wings beat the air, diving down and forward, sword raised. As it neared, the wings obscuring its face parted, and I fell back in fear against the stone pillar. It was a man’s face, or would have been, but for its maw, larger and hungrier than any normal man’s mouth. There were no eyes, no eyes at all, just a crown of jagged shards protruding from its skull, bleeding gold.
“Back!” Khent lunged with the knife, and the winged horror parried.
