Spotting me, Glory pinned my gaze with her own. “Just in case you aren’t aware, we’ve got both hounds and centaurs coming our way.”
“Figured as much,” I said as I retrieved my scythe from its scabbard, my hands annoyingly damp from my impromptu swim. I would have used my tunic to dry them off if my clothes weren’t still soaking wet.
“But why would anyone who’s launching an attack send not one buttwospecies that can’t climb the city walls?” asked Reeve.
Glory cut her gaze to him. “Their main aim will be to attain the city at some point, so they’re not interested in invading and destroying it. These attacks are intended to keep up the pressure, pick off our numbers, and provoke the Sovereigns.”
So far, their plan appeared to be working.
More howls went up, closer this time. Pushing down the panic before it could take hold of my thoughts, I threw myself into that mental space where only bloodthirst, determination, and battle-readiness could be found.
Sable unsheathed her sword while Reeve shifted into his lion form.
Lear looked at me, flickers of energy dancing along her palms. “If I die after gettingthis farinto Xalbia, I am gonna come back and haunt the Sovereigns.”
Flicking off the drizzle sliding down my temple, I snickered. “Can’t say I’d blame you.”
The breeze hit again, sliding over my wet skin, causing a chill to ride my spine. I heard water splashing as dogs barked and growled.
They were here.
Dread threatened to pierce my mental state, but I boxed it away fast and tightened my grip on my scythe. The long wooden handle felt almost comforting in its familiarity. With my other hand, I conjured an orb of ash, glad I’d practiced.
Anticipation a burn in my muscles, I remained still as I waited for our enemies to appear. They had the disadvantage of being able to see very little through the fog.Ididn’t. And I fully intended to use that against them.
The hounds rocketed out of the gray haze—teeth bared, pointed ears pinned back, tails high. They bulleted toward us, smashing through thick brambles, their paws thundering along the ground.
Some jerked back as arrows forcefully slammed into their bodies. Others stumbled under the numbing pain of freezing cold orbs. Some crashed to the ground as concentrated energy blasts barreled into them.
The rest headed right for us.
A blast of energy from Lear sent two sailing backwards. Another charged at me like it had a score to settle. I threw the orb of ashes, watching as it smacked the dog’s face—blinding and burning it. I brought the scythe down hard, slamming it into the dog’s neck and chopping off its head. I didn’t have time tofeelanything, because more were almost on me.
The battle officially began as swiftly as it did furiously. I couldn’t see much of what was happening beyond this little area here, but I couldhearit. The noise was as deafening as it was intense—a discordant blend of bestial sounds, pained cries, and crackles of power.
When I wasn’t launching orbs of ashes, I was using the rotated blade to deliver one devastating blow after another; always trying to dodge the spikes on the canines’ marbled black/gray fur.
Creatures of the Pines soon leaped into the fray. Hairless, leather-skinned vultures dived down, their razor-sharp talons extended. Silver leopards covered in long quills pounced, raking and biting. Black rhinos sporting ivory horns all along their spines charged enemies so hard they knocked them clean off their feet.
The hounds were as ferally brutal as usual, a flurry of teeth and claws and tails. But I stabbed and hacked and carved and slashed, offering not one bit of mercy. The dogs yelpedwith every orb of ashes that hit them—orbs that scalded, singed, burned, and charred.
Around me, officiates and candidates fought just as hard. Delphiae alternated between attacking with swords and lashing out with energy blasts. In their animal forms, Lykaons and Nemeans pitilessly tore out throats, sliced open bellies, and ripped chunks of skin from bodies. Phoenixians attacked from the sky—shooting arrows and orbs, snatching up and tossing away dogs, or diving down enough to lop off heads before sailing back up.
It was chaos at its finest and deadliest. Carnage reigned. Flesh burned. Bones broke. Screams rang out.
Battling a particular hound, I hissed as I pricked my hand on its spiked fur. The little shit emitted a satisfied snarl, whipping its prehensive tail back and forth. It flinched as two balls of ice-cold orbs rained down on it from above. Taking advantage of its distraction, I buried my scythe in its head.
Almost instantly, another was coming my way. An arrow narrowly missed its head, sinking harmlessly into a tree, but two Lykaons quickly wrestled the dog to the ground.
Not all arrows and strikes of power aimed from above met their mark—how could they, when officiates couldn’t see all too well courtesy of the fog? They were shooting blindly. But if nothing else, they slowed the dogs down by forcing them to weave and duck and jerk backward.
The hounds wouldn’t admit defeat, though. They kept on charging, kept on leaping, kept on lashing out with their claws.
I heard the tellingsnapsof Talon’s power and knew he was nearing us. I was—
Three hounds appeared out of the smoke. An energy blast shimmered through the air like waves of heat, knocking two down. The third pounced at me, its claws extended, its canine eyes lit with a mindless bloodthirst.
I sidestepped it fast and whirled as—unable to pause its momentum—the creature sailed past me, skidding to a halt. I swung the scythe, bringing it down hard on the hound’s back; cleaving it in half in one smooth move.
