Page 101 of Fractured Souls

The acolytes didn’t wear helms; maybe the Kordolians had short-changed them in that regard.

Boom! Boom! Boom! She squeezed off three shots in quick succession, picking off the acolytes as Nythian paused for a moment, allowing her to steady her aim.

Three headshots.

The recoil was huge, but she was ready.

They crumpled to the floor, their faces obliterated in a smoking mess of seared flesh.

Ektans and his men glanced up at her in surprise before surging back into battle, blades drawn.

They made quick work of the remaining acolytes. Blood splattered the pristine stone floor.

Nythian climbed higher, ignoring the chaos below. “Put your gun away and hold onto me with both arms now. We’re going across. Don’t look down.” They were nearly at the top of the dome, where the roof curved almost horizontal. “Don’t worry. We won’t fall.”

Alexis holstered her gun and did exactly as he said, clinging on for dear life as Nythian sank his claws into the stone. He dropped until he was hanging from the ceiling.

“Holy hell,” she muttered, her arms burning as she held onto him tightly. It was one thing to follow Nythian’s orders in the middle of a fight, but to put her complete faith in him when he did insane shit like this…

It was absolute trust.

He swung across the stone ceiling as if he were on monkey bars, making for the edge of the roof’s circular opening. Alexis didn’t know how the hell he planned on getting them up there.

“Almost there,” he grunted. It was the first time she’d heard strain in his voice. “Hold on tight now.”

With his claws impaled in the stone, he started to swing.

Back and forth, back and forth, reminding her of the way a gymnast might wind up before a dismount, gathering momentum.

The sheer force of his movement made her insides flip.

Whoosh.

Suddenly, she was flying through the air, the blinding sun hitting her face as Nythian executed a perfect somersault, somehow flipping up and over the edge of the opening.

He landed on his feet, as silently and gracefully as a big cat. Alexis clung to him for a while, struggling to regain her bearings. “That’s one hell of an acrobatic feat,” she said dryly once she’d recovered. “They teach you that in Kordolian warrior school?”

“I’ve had to make some tight escapes in the past,” he said, sounding amused. “You did well, my love.” He crouched down, allowing her to slip off his back.

Coming from him, that was big praise. He was a master fighter, and she suspected she’d seen only a fraction of what he was capable of.

Alexis couldn’t help it; she secretly basked in Nythian’s approval as she stepped onto the smooth stone roof and stared out at the landscape below.

Warm desert wind swirled around them.

They were at a nexus.

The dome of the portal was perched on top of a rocky outcrop that gave way to steep cliffs. Beyond was the vast desert, burnished red by the blazing sun.

On the other side, the thundering waterfalls spilled into oblivion, clouds of mist giving birth to a long, glistening river.

The sun was starting to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the red and grey landscape.

Was this afternoon on Tharos? It looked like it.

She peered over the lip of the opening. Below, the Kordolian warriors were executing the Tharian acolytes, their movements swift and chilling.

A slice here, a thrust there. Deadly obsidian blades moving in sync, the warriors viciously flicking them to clean off the Tharian blood before returning them to their sheaths.

---