Page 122 of She Who Holds My Wrath

She lands in a crash of force that rattles the ground beneath my boots. Soil jumps, and pebbles scatter. The impact vibrates up through my bones. I stumble back instinctively, one hand flying out to steady myself.

Her enormous head lowers until molten-gold eyes meet mine. Ancient intelligence burns there. Steam curls from her nostrils with every breath, carrying the scent of smoke and wildfire. Her tail swishes behind her, long with a barbed tip, slicing through the air with enough force to cut a man in half.

“Vesindiyah,” I breathe.

Sunshine Queen. Her voice rumbles inside my mind.

“Is everything okay?” I ask quickly. “You sounded concerned when you called for me.”

She doesn’t waste time soothing me.

Ancient beasts have been resurrected, she says bluntly. They were never part of this world. They were destroyed in their own.

My mouth goes dry. “What are they?” I whisper.

Vorrythael, Vesindiyah growls. Ancient Særathi war beasts. They were removed from their world for being too destructive. They wield sonar.

“Sonar?” My head spins, my voice sounding childish as my thoughts stumble trying to catch up.

It suppresses magic, she explains. If one aims its call, it can easily cripple a group as large as fifty beings at once. Your powers will be rendered obsolete.

The world tilts. I sink down into the damp grass, my legs trembling too violently to hold me upright. “We’ll be destroyed,” I whisper to myself. “Eliminated instantly.”

There are few, from what I can feel, she says quickly, sensing my spiral. They can be killed through their glowing fracture points in their scales. Strike there.

I nod absentmindedly, fingers digging into the dewy soil as panic claws at my chest. “Okay,” I breathe. “So hit them where it hurts. Without magic. Right. Easy.” There is nothing easy in my tone.

There is more.

I let out a hollow laugh. “Of course there is.”

She lowers her massive head so she fills my vision, her voice softer now. We can all feel the other beasts through frequency. We cannot hear them, not yet. Not until they enter our world.

A pause. The fear in her ripples so sharply through our connection, it steals my breath.

Abyr’Veth, she whispers. The World-Eater.

A violent shiver tracks down my spine. The name slams into me like a memory I don’t remember living. Like some ancient instinct in my blood recognises danger my mind cannot comprehend.

“The World-Eater?” I murmur. “That sounds fucking delightful.”

It was a whispered myth, she says gravely. Even before this world existed. But if it has returned… She exhales a warm breath that ruffles my hair. Daisy, if it has returned, nothing will remain.

Cold floods my veins. A beast that devours existence itself? Surely not. Surely no one would create something like that.

I may be wrong, she says. But from what I can feel… from what we can all sense, something is coming.

Before I have chance to respond, Vesindiyah suddenly moves—fast.

One second, she is before me. The next, her colossal body steps over me, planting herself between me and the open field. She unleashes a deafening roar so violent, it shakes the grass flat and rattles my teeth in my skull. Fire explodes from her maw—white-hot, blinding, enough heat to sear the air.

Then it vanishes entirely. Swallowed whole.

I scramble to my feet, my heart hammering as I dart around one pillar-thick leg and freeze. Standing there in the churned grass with his hands tucked lazily into his pockets, utterly unfazed, is Korithax.

I step forwards instinctively, but Vesindiyah blocks me with one taloned foot.

He is not safe, she warns. He is poison. He is danger.