Page 143 of A Cage of Crystal

They stepped back again, careful to keep their steps soft. Only a few feet remained between them and the tent flap. But what then? Could they run? Hide? Based on the snuffling sounds that continued, the beast had a keen sense of smell.

The tine pierced deeper through the canvas. Then, with an echo of the roar she’d heard earlier, the tent wall split as the tine tore a diagonal line across it. An enormous, misshapen head protruded through the gap, followed by paws. Hooves. The light of the lantern illuminated fur, flesh, claws, and horns, too many different characteristics to belong to a single animal.

“Run,” Mareleau whispered to the other girls. The demand was meant for her as much as them, but her legs were too wobbly to move. Her hand remained thrust before her, but the dagger looked more like a toy in the presence of her terrifying foe.

Anxiety crawled up her throat, tightening her chest, but it ignited something else inside her too—the same fierce protectiveness she’d felt when she’d confessed the truth to Larylis. It didn’t shrink her fear, but it settled beside it, bolstering her legs, her arms. Her fingers closed tighter around the hilt of the dagger.

“Run!” she said again, her voice a shout, and this time her body and her ladies listened. They stumbled through the tent flap and darted toward the other side of the meadow. Breah was fastest, sprinting several feet ahead, but Ann and Sera trailed behind, sobbing with every uneven step. Mareleau glanced over her shoulder in time to see Sera fall. Ann reached for her, hauling her to her feet, but an immense shadow closed in behind, backlit by a sudden leap of flames. The tent lay in tatters and was now being consumed by what must be the remnants of a smashed lantern.

The beast bounded for Ann and Sera, who were still struggling to gain purchase and run. Mareleau glanced at Breah, who was almost to the other end of the meadow now, then back at the two girls. Without a second thought, she bared her teeth and rushed to her ladies, pulling them to their feet with her free hand. With her other, she flourished the dagger at the oncoming beast. Her heart hammered so loud, it drowned out its thundering steps, its roar. She was only aware of the heat of its breath as it closed in on them.

Ann and Sera finally managed to start running again, and she shoved them before her, away from the beast. She kicked up her feet, lifted the hem of her robe, and darted after them.

A flash of fur and flesh skidded before her, blocking her retreat. She thrust out the dagger again, leaping back.

The monster faced her, mouth gaping to reveal unnaturally sharp teeth. She lifted her face, taking in the sight of the creature clearly for the first time. It was larger than a carriage with clawed front paws contrasting rear hooves. Its boarlike snout was framed with tusks. A pair of overlarge antlers sprouted from its head. Its rear ended in a bushy wolflike tail.

But its eyes.

Above its massive snout, it had four sets of eyes from four human faces, skin pulled taut over what should have been the creature’s upper skull. Each face was linked to the next, skin fused with what looked like scar tissue, then melting into the more animalistic features—the boar snout, the stag head, the bear neck.

The monster shifted to the side, pinning one distinct pair of eyes on her.

Her breath caught in her throat. The dagger slid from her grip and fell into the grass at her feet.

She knew this gaze, with irises as blue as her own. Eyes lined with creases she’d watched deepen over the years. A brow constantly furrowed in either anger or frustration whenever she was in its presence.

Bile simmered in her gut.

She forced her attention away from the face, but there was nowhere else to look but at these four terrifying visages.

Uncle Ulrich.

Uncle Kevan.

King Dimetreus.

And the one that continued to look at her with its eerie, lifeless stare.

A word left her lips in a cry. “Father.”

57

Cora’s lungs heaved with trembling breaths, a muffled scream building in the back of her throat. She watched the meadow, vaguely noted the flames, the figures, but her brother’s face was all she could see. The sight of it replayed before her eyes like a grotesque tableau, along with one undeniable truth.

Her brother was dead.

There was no way around it. She knew what the creature was. She knew what it meant to see Dimetreus’ face protruding from the monster’s skull.

Morkai had made her brother into a Roizan.

Along with Kevan, Ulrich, and Verdian.

He hadn’t simply murdered those who stood in the way of his goals. He’d violated them. Twisted their bodies with blood magic.

She’d seen the process in the book she’d burned.

Two animals locked in battle.

---