Page 44 of House of Gilded Nightmares

“Run, Sarielle,” Zyren commands, pulling his dark blade from its sheath and shoving me toward the trees.

The moment I turn to obey, the nightmare lets out a scream that shatters the sky and lunges for Zyren.

Magic pulses off Zyren, a tremor that shakes the valley, and a moment later his shadows surround him, roiling clouds that are dark even against the night sky, rumbling like thunder. They spiral up until they’re as tall as the monster, and then the shadow ravens begin to dive into the nightmare, assaulting him from all sides. My guardian growls and runs forward, sword flashing.

The nightmare and Zyren collide in a crash of magic and blade and flesh.

I stumble into the tree line, watching in horror. Zyren slashes at the thing’s legs, narrowly avoiding its thrashing tail in the process. The monster rakes at him with its huge, clawed hands, and Zyren rolls to the side, missing them by the barest margin. I catch the sharp scent of blood and a smoky, sulfuric tang. I’m not sure if Zyren drew blood or if the creature did.

He comes at it again with his sword as the nightmare claws upward at the shadow ravens, momentarily distracted. This time he definitely makes contact. The thing roars as Zyren’s blade slices its legs, opening up black lines of blood along its gray skin. But as Zyren tries to duck out of the way, the creature’s tail catches him in the back, taking its own blood payment.

They whirl back and forth, magic crackling like a storm, the ground shaking as the giant nightmare staggers around. One of the shadow ravens claims an eye, eliciting a scream from the nightmare so piercing it makes me wince in pain. Zyren gets in another deep slice to the leg and punctures higher up on the thing’s abdomen. But its heart is far out of reach, at least for his sword.

Another scream splits the air as Zyren cuts clean through the monster’s tail, eliminating the threat from the sharp barbs. But for each wound he claims, he obtains one of his own. Blood flows freely from a cut over his eye, and his tunic is plastered to his skin, where he has multiple injuries on his back. My heart is racing so fast I’m having trouble drawing breath.

And then, with a rush of magic that sucks the remaining air from the night sky, Zyren’s shadows topple the nightmare to the ground. The ground shakes and I fall against the tree I’m standing beside, clinging to it to keep my footing. Zyren rushes in before the dust even settles, leaping over the creature’s legs onto its torso, heading for the heart. As he reaches it and plunges his blade downward, one of the clawed hands knocks him hard into the side of the mountain.

Zyren hits the rock, rolls to the ground, and doesn’t move. His shadows dissipate to nothing.

I scream and run forward. The nightmare lurches back to its feet and takes a staggering step toward Zyren’s prone body. It hunches over him, one claw raised to land its death blow. Zyren stirs, his eyes fluttering as the creature stands over him. The monster swings its arm.

“Do not touch him!” I bellow, magic radiating off of me. It’s not just the golden light I’ve summoned before. It is gold and darkness both, sun and shadow, a swirling sphere that surrounds me and cracks with bolts like lightning.

The nightmare turns slowly, hand still raised, its remaining eye narrowing at me dangerously. It pivots away from Zyren and lets out a low snarl that vibrates through my chest.

“He is mine,” I growl in a voice I don’t recognize. “I am your queen, and you will obey me.”

The monster lets out a string of guttural words in a language I’ve never heard before. But somehow, I understand them. They ring inside my head even as the sound hitting my ears is indistinguishable. “I have no queen.”

It spins back toward Zyren, claws arcing down toward him. My magic responds without thought, a wild impulse, a black rage that pours out of me. The sphere of gold and shadows surrounding me launches into the creature and it screams, a high, hideous sound. Then it begins to writhe as cracks of light splinter across its body. A moment later, it bursts into flame and ash, which fall into curling petals all around Zyren.

I run the last few feet to where he lays. His eyes widen as I approach and his magic pulses, shadows racing out to merge with mine. He slowly climbs to his feet.

“How did you do that?”

I’m still glowing with magic, and I look down at myself, at the play of light and shadows around me. “I don’t know.” My throat feels dry, parched even, as if I’ve just run ten miles. “Are you okay?”

He winces as I touch the side of his face below the cut near his eye. My heart goes still as I look at him. His pewter eyes are shot through with thin lines of black. “Your eyes…” I murmur.

“Sarielle…”

I ignore whatever it is he’s trying to say and pull gently at his tunic, where blood is plastering it to his body. He groans but holds still as I pull it off over his head. I circle him, taking stock of his injuries. He’s got several deep lashes along his back and a puncture wound from a claw or spike above one hip.

“We need to get these cleaned,” I say, biting my lip.

“No amount of water, soap, or medicine can heal these,” Zyren responds. “Only magic.”

I search his face, not understanding what he means exactly.

“Step back,” he says, gesturing for me to move away.

I hesitate a moment but then obey. Zyren closes his eyes and summons his magic anew. The shadows surrounding him grow thicker, moving around his body like a storm cloud. As I watch, the cuts slowly begin to close. Very slowly. Black blood drips out of them as the shadows pulsate.

After nearly a minute, Zyren slumps back against the rocks again.

“It’s not working?” I ask, voice trembling.

“It is,” he says, voice thick and laced with pain. “But it’s not a quick process. It requires me to tap into magic I don’t usually use.”

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