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I flinch away from the reminder. Yes, everything that’s happened up to this point rests on my shoulders. I’m to blame. If the huntsman knew the full extent of it, he’d end me. Worse, he’d be right to do it.
I turn to face forward again before Draven can catch the flash of guilt. No doubt he’ll interpret it as a sign of betrayal and act accordingly. He’s already perched on a knife’s edge, ready to do violence at any time. It’s the presence of his female that does it. The need to protect her, even though she’s capable of protecting herself. Ransom isn’t the only one here who has a mate. The realization leaves me feeling bereft. I crave a mate, too. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anything but impotent rage. It would be glorious to have a companion, someone to pass the years with.
I want Blaze. It’s absurd but true. She’s Ransom’s mate and I should leave well enough alone. He’s been debased further than most of us and he deserves happiness, but...
“Information,” Draven prompts again, interrupting my thoughts. “Give mesomethingbefore I decide it’s safer to leave you to deal with things on your own.”
My lip curls. It’s a bluff and we all know it. I’m the only one with the ability to open gates to other worlds. He and his woman will wander the path between for an eternity if I abandon them. The more reasonable part of me points out that it costs nothing to give him assurances and can gain us a measure of unity. I wonder at my sudden irritability. Is Ransom’s luck truly making me this petty?
“Lycaon has imprisoned our goddess, Cyllene, in his own private world. It’s how he’s managed to control us so completely. It isn’t just his power to compel canines that keeps us in line. When he controls her, he controls the rest of us through her line. King Axion has ultimate authority over us, and he’s her direct descendant. Ransom and I are more distantly related, so the pull isn’t as strong. We’ll be able to resist him for a time and when she’s free, we’ll be able to shake off our bonds completely. We’ll be free to join you in the fight against Morningstar.”
My fingers brush the cursed manacle that wraps around my neck. I long for the day when I can remove it. Hellhounds were not destined to be slaves. When we are free, we will take the humiliation out of Morningstar’s hide with interest.
“And we’re just going to be able to get into his realm just like that, I suppose?” Blaze drawls.
She’s walking just behind us, unconsciously orienting herself around Ransom. She pretends that she doesn’t care for him, but it’s obvious to anyone with eyes and a working mind that she feelssomething. She darts covert glances up at his face every few minutes, her ivory skin coloring prettily at whatever she’s imagining. I wish I were in his place, the object of her affection. Her tone does make me smile. She’s willful and quarrelsome, something I haven’t encountered for a long time. People shrink in fear when we’re near. It’s refreshing to see someone so brazenly unafraid of us.
I shake my head. “No, if it were so simple, we’d have gone alone. We have to pass a nearby obstacle before we can even approach Cyllene’s prison. Lady Death controls the territory ahead. She’s the guardian of souls and afterlives, and we believe she’s the origin of your shepherds’ powers. She’ll demand a toll before we can cross over. Expect to spend the night in her realm. That’s not even taking into account the things that prowl the path between worlds. Star beasts, revenants, the ghosts of dying worlds.”
“Star beasts?” Carmine echoes. She looks paler than usual, her skin pearlescent under the light of the stars overhead. “What are those, exactly?”
Axion speaks up. His voice is startling after remaining silent for so long. He knows what awaits us when we reach Lady Death’s hall. He doesn’t relish it, but he seems to have come to a grim level of acceptance.
“Souls that have gone mad in limbo. If a spirit is angry enough, it forms a body out of stardust and attacks travelers. Many of our prophets have been killed by star beasts during their travels. Maddox has slain several on his journeys. They aren’t as common as they used to be. Morningstar and his people exterminated most of them. Still, there are bound to be a few between here and Lady Death’s domain.”
“Lovely,” Draven mutters. “Battling with ghosts. Just what I was looking forward to. Is there anything else I should be braced for, or are you planning to keep those a secret so we can be unpleasantly surprised?”
“Lycaon has put barriers in place to deter would-be rescuers when we enter the realm,” I say. “Expect wairua, a nightmare rain, and Cyllene’s corrupted concubine, Fenrir. A giant hellhound of such strength that only a goddess could keep him in check.”
“Wairua?” Carmine asks.
“Giant spiders,” Axion answers.
“I’m more concerned about the nightmare rain,” Blaze mutters. “What is that exactly?”
“It’s designed to make you relive the worst moments of your life,” Ransom says quietly. “Many can’t withstand it. They remain caught in the downpour, starving to death, unable to shake themselves free.”
Silence falls over the group at that pronouncement. The prospect of that much pain gives even the huntsman pause. Ransom sounds hopeless, as though he’s already waded waist-deep into the murk and is intent to drown in it. He’s the one I worry about most. His nightmares outstrip mine by miles. Will he truly be able to withstand the rain?
The silence is the only thing that allows us to hear the approach. Our chatter has attracted something from a nearby well of inky space, and if we’d still been gabbing, it would have been able to jump us without warning. As it is, we only have moments to spin and face the skitter of claws over the bridge. It’s shaped vaguely like a hellhound, but much larger and misshapen. Its starlight body is composed of not one hound but many, stitched together with motes of dust and fire. I know instinctively what this is. The souls of former prophets lost to the path between worlds, all of them furious at their own deaths, looking to take out their pain on the living.
Blaze only has time to stare in horror at the star beast before it leaps, aiming for her soft and vulnerable throat.
CHAPTER TWELVE
BLAZE
The giant hound’s jaws drip fire and blinding light as it prowls toward me, each drop sizzling on the bridge before evaporating in a puff of sulfurous smoke.
The scent is choking and fogs my brain. I feel stupid and slow like I’m moving through a torrent of molasses as I try to backpedal, to put some distance between myself and this thing. It has to be one of the star beasts that Maddox mentioned, but I never expected the thing to be so massive. In my mind, ghosts are ephemeral things, unable to harm the living without the aid of a necromancer’s power. This thing has a body as solid as mine, and there’s no pity in the sucking wells of its eyes as its haunches bunch. It leaps for me, and I’m too sluggish to raise my hands to defend myself.
Strong arms loop around my waist, yanking me backward so swiftly, the action wrenches my neck. I don’t have to look to know its Ransom who holds me close, moving with inhuman speed to jerk me out of range. The star beast’s jaws snap shut on empty air where my head had been only moments before. A shiver of pure terror rattles up my spine. The thing had almost killed me, and I would have been helpless to stop it.
A shape blurs past us, rapidly shifting from something two-legged into a hound. It looks comically small in comparison to the monstrous star beast but prowls forward as if it’s at least twice its real size. It reminds me of a terrier Beacon once owned, too proud and fierce to acknowledge it was much smaller than the dogs it picked fights with. I can only hope that he doesn’t die like the terrier, picking a fight with something too big for it to handle. A second or so later, I realize by its coloring that it’s Maddox who has rushed to my rescue.
“Take the chosen and run!” Axion shouts, stripping off layers of clothing as he rushes forward to back his general. He’s shifting two, dark flame bursting along his back as shaggy fur sprouts from his skin.
Draven seizes Carmine by the waist, pulling her from her feet in a move too swift to track. She lets out an indignant cry, straining toward the beast. I admire her bravery, even if I think she’s insane.
