“How do you know this?”
“I’ve come across many of the dead they have slaughtered in their wake. Smelling like blood and of Heaven as you do is going to be a literal calling card to them. How you have escaped their notice thus far has puzzled me for some time. If they catch even a hint of your scent, they will seek you out, and I guarantee you won’t survive their assault without my protection. Humans are defenseless against them.” He nods to me. “You, as you are now, are going to be the most appetizing thing they scent on the wind.”
Chapter Eighteen
Things With Souls & Soulless
The Chosen
Together, we travel through plains that stretch beneath a turbulent sky thick with low, churning clouds. Murmurs of thunder follow distant flashes of lightning—alluding to a warning that never quite arrives. Ash arrives with the wind, accompanied by a fine mist of rain, coating my cloak and dampening everything it touches.
I head for home with the intention of veering off course miles before we reach it. The distance will give me adequate time to understand the danger he presents, and should I fail, I know the land well enough to disappear into it for a time.
Yes, my situation is more dire than I originally planned, but perhaps that is the key.
Sacrifice.
When my cries rang through the forest, he came for me without hesitation, without thought. In that, at least, I succeeded.
Now he rides beside me, both silent and watchful. He speaks very little, but I feel the weight of his attention each time it settles on me. It lingers more often than it should, drifting toward me before he forces it away to scan the horizon for the demons he insists stalk these lands.
We continue for hours in this manner until we reach a thick crop of trees. The foliage is lively—thriving. Bushes heavy with berries that might not kill you, but will leave you doubled over for days. Tasty, but not worth the price.
The Horseman draws his mount to a halt. I continue several paces before noticing, then pull sharply on the reins and turn in the saddle.
His eyes are closed. His breathing is steady. Shoulders loose.
Nothing appears amiss.
Then, all at once, he lifts his hand.
Static ignites in the air around us. Not seen, but very much felt.
As if the lightning stretched out its might and touched down here without notice.
The skin on my arms becomes gooseflesh. Every hair rises as the pressure around us builds. Even the tattoo under my hairline responds, not a tingle but warmth, heat.
I cup my neck, fighting off the burn, and search for meaning.
It’s then that I find it, as color leaches from the ground beneath us.
Grasses dull, from green to grey, their blades curling inward as if recoiling. The soil dries, and cracks spread outward in jagged lines. What was damp earth becomes lifeless dirt. Nearby shrubs sag, their leaves shriveling in on themselves. Even the trees—those that have somehow endured and lived on—bow under the assault, their leaves and needles losing all life, breaking off and falling to the bare ground. Bark splits. Sap dries up.
Within whatever seconds it’s taken me to come to grips with what I am seeing, the teaming life here that once was is no more.
I act without thought. I drive my heels into my mount and surge toward him. His eyes open at the sound, but the shove I deliver catches him completely off guard, rocking him so hard in the saddle that I nearly dismount him.
“There is enough death in this world without you adding to it,” I snarl, voice breaking with fury. I nearly unseat myself trying to strike him again, but he catches my wrist before it can make contact. “Don’t you dare do that again.”
He appears bewildered by my response and gently says, “It’s what I’m here to do.”
“No.” I wrench against his hold, breath stuttering as I seek out what little oxygen rides the thinning air. “If you’re going to kill off my planet, the least you could do is go do it somewhere I don’t have to see it.”
A line forms between his brows. “There’s a reason?—”
“Save it! I don’t want to hear it. You’re making the situation worse. This land is already struggling to survive. And these people have already lost so much. How dare you take what’s left?”
Slowly, he releases my arm. “I’m afraid I don’t have a choice.”
