Dark Skye (Immortals After Dark #15)(50)

A bower of black and silver foliage grew over the trail here, providing cover from above, from the hazy sun that had finally risen.

As he sprinted headlong down the mountain, Melanthe peeked over his shoulder. “More are coming!”

He glanced back. Two had become half a dozen. They were burly pathos demons, a vicious breed. Their armor could deflect his talons.

“Where are we going?”

The trail led toward a wooded valley between those two jagged ranges. “That’s a forest down there. We could lose them among the trees.”

“You’re heading toward a Pandemonian forest?”

“You have a better idea?” The lower they got, the closer they were to the river of lava. Sweat poured from him, ash drying out his mouth. The demons stayed right on his heels.

“I feel like I’m cooking!”

“We’re almost there.” The path finally veered away from the lava, leading straight to the forest.

As he and Melanthe neared the edge of it, she said, “They’re too close! We can’t lose them.”

“Then I fight.” He set her down, readying to combat the sentries. “Stay behind me. But remain close.” He faced off against the pursuing warriors, positioning his wings to strike.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied two marble markers flanking the path. But he couldn’t divert his focus to read the glyphs.

Swords drawn, the sentries charged as one—

They stopped before him, just out of range. Right at the line of those markers.

“Come on, then!” He flared his wings, antagonizing them. “Fight me!” But they wouldn’t cross that line, shifting and muttering.

So there was something in these woods that even a cadre of demons feared?

A heartbeat later, he heard an earsplitting buzzing sound above them—hair-raising in its intensity! Melanthe shrieked. Was she running from him?

He whirled around, saw a black swarm oozing through the tree canopy as if it’d been poured.

“Wait, Lanthe!” he yelled as he sped for her deeper into the brush. The swarm was already between them, a multitude of solid black wasps with dripping stingers.

Their buzzing seemed to make the entire world vibrate, like his brain would be jostled to mush.

BUZZZZZZZZZZ

Melanthe had clapped her hands over her ears, still careening along that path. “I can’t take that sound!”

BUZZZZZZZZZZ

Using his wings to fan and bat the wasps, he fought through the cloud to reach her, biting back yells with each sting—like icepicks stabbing his skin!

And that sound was about to drive him insane.

Closing in on her, he nearly tripped over one of another pair of engraved marble markers along the path. They read:





The pest that WAS . . .


What did that mean? Confusing bloody place! He lunged for Melanthe, enclosing her in his wings as they hit the ground.

BUZZZZZZZZZZ

Even with his wings shielding them, the sound was deafening.

“Thronos, I-I can’t! It’s too loud. My head!”

BUZZZZZZZZZZ

He wrapped his arms around her trembling body. “Shh, shh, I know . . .” How the hell was he going to get her away? When he could barely think past that sound?

Yet then it . . . dimmed.

Were they no longer swarmed? He poked his head up to glance out.

The towering black mass had stopped before those stones, hovering in the air—as if there was an imaginary line that couldn’t be crossed.

Then they began dissipating, their buzz receding.

He squinted at the stones. On this side, both read:





The pest that IS . . .


He rose above her. “Melanthe? Are you okay?”

Between breaths, she said, “My head still feels like a jackhammer was in it.”

He levered himself to his feet, helping her stand. “Were you stung?” As he looked her over, he rasped his palms over his skin, scraping stingers away.

“Only a few times before you covered me.” She plucked stingers from her arms, leaving angry red welts. “Why’d they stop?”

“I think you were right about there being traps all over this realm. I’m beginning to believe there’s a patchwork of danger zones, and we reached the edge of one.” What he wouldn’t give for a map!

“What do those markers say?”

“On the other side, they read: The pest that was. On this side: The pest that is.”

She brushed hair from her eyes. “They sound like demonic road signs. Like if we were heading back into the swarm zone, the signs would be saying: Entering hazardous area.”

“Does The pest that was mean we left the hazardous area?”

“Only to enter another one?” she asked, her face wan.

He noticed she wasn’t sweating. In this heat? Not good. Wasn’t that a symptom of heat stroke?

He scented water, but it was far in the distance, several leagues away. Though most immortals could go without water for days, she wasn’t like most immortals. Reminded of how fragile a creature she was, he reached for her. “Come here, Melanthe.”

“I’m fine.”

Ignoring her protests, he took her in his arms and cradled her slight weight. He started along the trail, working to minimize the jostle of his limp. With each step, she relaxed a degree more in his arms. Every now and then, she’d grumble about walking on her own.