Page 125 of Ashen Wings

Saphine slows beside me. “Something’s wrong…”

Isra’s fingers clench around the hilt of his raised blade.

“Do you feel that?” he murmurs to Jace. “It’s too quiet.”

I swallow hard. He’s right. The utter silence of the border sends a shiver of caution through me. The hair on my arms pricks on high alert and primal fight or flight coils tight in my chest.

Jace nods and scans the brush. There’s not a rustle, nor a whisper of life. My stomach plummets to my boots. I know this feeling, and judging by Jace’s furrowed brow, he does, too. His fear strikes right through me, unlocking something deep in my core. It’s exactly as the lurker den felt. The complete stop of life, of nature, of time.

“Lurkers…” I whisper.

“What did you say?” Saphine nocks an arrow.

“The reason we’ve been searching for the guardian rider. Remember when I said there were far greater threats than Ashar’s crimes?” Jace’s eyes narrow on her. “Well, it seems you’re about to meet them.”

Saphine’s posture straightens, but she doesn’t shy from the threat. Instead, she rears her head like a bull ready to charge. I guess she’s braver than me, since I’m cowering in my boots. Perhaps that’s why she’s the guardian rider—amongst many other infuriating reasons.

“But the ward…” I sweep my eyes into the dark crossing station.

“It’s never failed this far out of Shadow.” Jace takes the lead and plunges through the doorway.

Half expecting to meet the nightmarish creatures, I keep my defensive stance and follow him through. In silence, we creep down the hall to the main office. The tightness in my chest refuses to release, even when a vacant desk and unlit hearth greets us.

“A fire should be lit at least, even with the watch change. This place looks like it’s been abandoned for years…not minutes.” Saphine’s voice is steadier than mine, but even she can’t hide the unease stitching through her words.

A brittle chill licks at the back of my neck. I tighten my grip on my shortsword, though it does nothing to steady the tremor in my fingertips. It’s colder inside than out, and a shiver I can’t shake off slithers down my spine.

Isra prowls toward the far door, shoulders squared, and bracing for impact.

“Something is seriously fucked up here.” He runs a finger over the doorframe. “Do you feel the drop in the air? It’s like it’s bending.”

Bending.

Fuck, that’s one way to describe the pressure gliding over my skin like a sharp, icy talon.

Jace glances back at me. “This isn’t just a fracture in the ward,” he whispers.

My pulse stutters. “What do you mean?”

He lifts a hand to listen for something…or someone.

The lantern resting on the central desk is lit and I flick the glass enclosure. The flame stays pin-straight. “The flames…they’re just as the fountain is back home.”

“Someone needs to tell me what we’re dealing with here.” Saphine bites her lip.

“We don’t know where they’ve come from, but they’re beyond your worst fucking nightmare.” My voice is barely audible as I continue. “They devour everything until all that’s left is…”

The only word accurate enough to describe the lurker’s influence on our world is hollow—a shell of a land left paralyzed.

A low groan ripples through the air and vibrates under my skin.

Isra backs up to us, blade raised high.

“Fuck, we need to move,” Jace says.

Then, the room warps. The air thickens, syrupy and wrong. A papery silhouette appears where a shadow shouldn’t be, tall and brittle, limbs too long, face void of features. My breath snags on pure, instinctive terror. Freezing like prey in the eyes of a predator, my muscles remember that face before my mind does.

Jace steps in front of me, his arm drawn protectively around my waist. My chest flutters when his thumb brushes my hip.