Endless Knight (The Arcana Chronicles #2)(57)

“Silence, both of you!” Death yelled, thunder rumbling behind him. He muttered something in that foreign language, then fell to his knees beside my body, blocking my view. All I could see was his broad back heaving in a breath as he leaned down to deliver it to me—

His lips. I somehow felt them on mine. Warm air from his lungs flowed into my starving ones. He repeated this. And again.

Suddenly I was zooming toward my body, into my body—which was racked with the need to breathe. Panic seized my deadened muscles.

When Death drew back for another breath, my eyes shot open, caught his—

I rolled to my side and retched up water.

Once I’d coughed it all up, I awkwardly eased myself into a sitting position. He’d risen up on his haunches, tension emanating from him.

“Boss, you saved her,” Lark said in an awed tone. “You . . . you breathed life into her.”

Before I came to my senses, I had the insane impulse to thank him. He must have thought I was about to, because he tilted his head, his blond brows drawn tight.

I glanced down. Saw his hand. His bared hand. He had only two icons: Calanthe’s and another one I didn’t recognize.

None of my friends’ markings. Which meant they’d all survived. Which meant Jack likely had too. Jack, you cheated Death.

I gave the Reaper a triumphant look.

“Always thinking of them. I should have left you to drown.”

In a rough voice, I said, “Without a doubt.”

His hand shot out to my neck, beginning to squeeze. “You think I won’t remedy my mistake?”

—Eyes to the skies, lads!—

—I watch you like a hawk.—

—Trapped in the palm of my hand.—

“Arcana!” Ogen bounded over with Death’s swords and armor. “Power!”

Joules’s alliance was closing in? “No time to suit up, Death?” Without that protection, he was no longer invincible.

He rose, shooting me a scathing look. “And now someone must die because of your folly.”

Would the Tower honor his promise to me—

A silvery javelin landed beside me, exploding into a bolt of lightning.





24

Son of a bitch! The Lord of Lightning was up on the suspension bridge, his vantage making us fish in a barrel.

Ogen’s body began to swell into his horrendous ogre form. He swung his horned head up at Joules, then sped off toward the bridge so quickly he sprayed rocks in his wake.

I scrambled up as fast as I could, dodging another javelin, almost barreling over Lark as she fled. I headed for a patch of burned-out woods, running parallel to her.

Javelins landed at my heels again and again, propelling me faster. I chanced a glance over my shoulder—

Plowed into a boulder. Blundered over it like a clipped running back.

I ignored my new medley of wounds and curled up behind the stone. The javelins . . . stopped? Sucking in wet breaths, I peeked around the rock, blinking against the rain.

Joules yelled, “Oi! Keep cover, you daft tart!”

The Tower had been aiding me? Pushing me to run? Yes, he could’ve hit me at any time—just as he could have in my vision of him at Haven, when I’d sprinted along the river’s edge.

I had to get free, to help him take advantage of Death’s weakness. I needed my hands! I couldn’t reach the rope that bound my elbows, but I could work it over something sharp. I slashed my claws behind me, gouging out a shelf from the boulder. With panting breaths, I started sawing the rope across the edge.

Joules had turned his focus on his true enemy: Death.

Near the river, the Reaper waited without his armor, as if challenging Joules to strike. His muscles were tensed with readiness. Lightning rained down. Death’s swords flashed out, a blur of movement as he deflected each bolt.

From beneath a nearby cliff, Lark screamed at Joules, “The Teeth are on their way here, idiot!”

Joules replied, “Well aware, you shifty bitch—I told them to follow the explosions. They ought to be up on that canyon rise in a couple of minutes.”

Without taking his gaze from Joules, Death commanded Lark, “Call on every creature still living—stall those mortals, or they mow us all down.”

“Got it, boss!” She ran off with her wolves.

Joules was using the Teeth? Clever boy. But now it sucked to be me. As I sawed faster against the rock edge, I scanned for Tess. No sign. I could hear Gabriel’s rocketlike approach, but couldn’t see him above the fog.

The last time Gabriel had attacked Death like this, the Reaper had winged him, sending him hurtling. Surely they wouldn’t try the same plan twice. As Joules’s attack intensified, the high-pitched whine grew deafening. Closer, closer.

I’d witnessed an Arcana battle through Matthew’s vision. But this was visceral chaos—the bellows, the earth seeming to shake, the blinding bolts.

A clattering sound above us. That whine . . . When Death raised his swords to the sky to strike at Gabriel, a metal net descended over him.

They had changed their plan!

The net must be weighted; it made even Death collapse to his knees. With an enraged bellow, he slashed with his swords, but couldn’t cut the metal. The more he struggled, the more he ensnared himself.

All Joules had to do was aim one javelin. But Ogen was almost on him, bounding across the bridge, forcing Joules to retreat. The Devil chased the Tower, just as he had in their last battle. Could Joules escape him again?