Page 64 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

Zander raised his hand, signaling us to halt. Voices drifted down the jagged path ahead, guttural. I pressed my back against the remnants of a toppled wall—stone, cracked and blackened, maybe once part of a cottage or an inn before the isle had turned to ash. Naia crouched low beside me, eyes narrowing.

Two Blood Fae emerged from the misted gloom, their boots crunching against gravel. They were speaking in a dialect I couldn’t place, harsh syllables punctuated by cruel laughter. They carried themselves with the arrogance of predators, blades glinting at their sides.

Ferrula didn’t wait. She slipped out from behind her cover like the strike of a serpent, Narvea’s bond burning fierce in her eyes. Her sword flashed, a gleam of green-tinged steel in the dim light.

Jax was at her side a heartbeat later, his massive frame moving with a speed that always surprised me. He slammed into one of the fae, forcing him back, their blades sparking as they met.

I shifted, scanning the horizon for more, Kaelith’s hum thrumming in the back of my mind. Careful, Ashlyn. Where there are two, there may be ten.

The first Blood Fae snarled, summoning a fireball in his palm. Heat rolled off it, scorching the air as he hurled it at Jax’s head.

But it never hit.

The blaze shuddered mid-air before twisting back, as if caught by invisible hands. It slammed into its caster with a thunderous crack, searing through flesh and armor alike. His scream was short, cut off as his body crumpled to the ground, fire devouring him in a rush of smoke and ash.

Jax didn’t falter, though his jaw tightened as the smell of burned flesh filled the air.

The second fae lashed out with cruel intent, his blade a flurry of deadly arcs. Ferrula ducked, spun, her reflexes nothing short of predatory. She used his momentum against him, slipping past his guard and catching his wrist with a brutal twist. His sword clattered on the stones.

Before he could summon another weapon or spell, Ferrula stepped in, her blade driving clean through his chest. His eyes widened, shock etched onto his features before his body went slack. She yanked her sword free, letting him collapse into the dirt at her boots.

She wiped the blade on his tunic with steady hands, her face unreadable.

Jax glanced down at the smoldering corpse at his feet, then at Ferrula. “I’d say we’re off to a good start.”

Ferrula gave a shrewd nod, eyes scanning the fog beyond. “Too easy. Which means more will come.”

The growl rolled through the ruined street, low and primal, vibrating in my chest like a warning drumbeat.

“What is that?” I whispered, leaning closer to Naia.

Her knuckles whitened on the hilt of her blade. “No idea. But it’s not a dragon.”

We crept forward, passing what had once been a stone well. Its frame was cracked, the rope and bucket long rotted away. But the sound came from inside it.

A sudden scrape, then something vast and black slunk out of its depths.

It wasn’t like any animal I had ever seen, its body sleek and sinuous, fur matted with an unnatural sheen that rippled like oil. Muscles coiled beneath its hide as it padded forward on oversized paws tipped with claws that scraped sparks from the stone. Its eyes glowed red, unblinking as it tracked us.

The squad instinctively drew together, blades raised, forming a loose shield line as the beast circled. Its growl deepened, vibrating low, the sound of a predator savoring the hunt.

“What is that thing?” Tae muttered, his usually flippant tone edged with unease.

I shoved the image into Kaelith’s mind, desperate for an answer.

Her response was quick, almost mournful. That is a Moor cat. One tainted by dark magic. They were thought extinct. You must show it mercy.

“Mercy?” I whispered aloud. “Kaelith says we need to kill it.”

Tae snorted, his blade gleaming as he adjusted his grip. “No shit. Did she mention how?”

Naia shifted beside me, her sandy hair falling into her eyes. “Same way you kill any animal, I suppose.”

“So we have to get close to it,” Tae muttered, his eyes narrowing as the beast’s tail flicked back and forth like a whip.

Ferrula stepped forward, sword raised, her scar catching the gloom. Jax moved with her, his massive frame casting a shadow over us.

The moor cat crouched, haunches tensing, every inch of it coiled and ready.