A Light in the Flame (Flesh and Fire #2)(19)
Oh, gods.
I began to hack at the gods, losing all sense of skill in my panic to get them off the draken. I reached Davina’s side, air lodged in my too-tight throat. Half of her was burnt and unrecognizable. The other half had been torn apart by sharpened nails and fangs. It was clear…
My stomach twisted as nausea rose. Davina was gone. Just like that. My entire body spasmed with the knowledge that I could fix it. The embers wanted that. That was what I wanted. Because that had been Davina, and now she was gone.
“Stop!”
My head jerked up, and my gaze clashed with Ector’s deep amber eyes. The fair-haired god turned, lifting a hand. A bolt of eather erupted from his palm, slamming into a fallen god and throwing it back several feet.
“Don’t do it.” Ector swung his sword with his other hand, cleaving through a fallen god’s neck. I jerked back from Davina. “It will only make things worse down the road.”
Pushing past the tightness threatening to seal off my throat, I forced myself away from Davina. Breathe in. Ector was right. If I brought any of them back to life, the other gods and Primals would feel it. Hold. Part of me wondered if it mattered since they already knew an ember of life was here, but it wouldn’t help matters at all. The pressure on my chest increased.
“Keep it together,” I whispered hoarsely, making myself go where Bele fought as I exhaled, breathed in again, and held it.
Shoulder-length black hair snapped around her shoulders as the goddess spun, driving her sword through a fallen’s face. She saw me then, and both brows rose, forming deep creases in light brown skin that no longer carried the pallor of death. She yanked her blade free. “Nyktos is going to lose his shit once he realizes you’re out here.”
That was highly likely. “Where is he?”
“With Rhahar and Saion.” Her eyes, now silver, glowed with eather. “They were in the woods, trying to catch the freed gods.” She dragged the back of her hand across her forehead. A smear of blood remained. “They must’ve gotten swamped.”
My chest clenched as I turned, striking out at a nearby god. I pushed it off the sword. Was that where Nektas had flown? Worry threatened to seize me. “They have to be okay.”
“I know.” Bele dipped and picked up a long, slender spear. She tossed it to me. “They’re lighter, double-edged, and more fun.”
The spear was significantly lighter, and given how I’d already begun to feel the strain in my muscles, I knew it wouldn’t be nearly as physically taxing. I dropped the sword and shifted the spear into my right hand. “How many gods do you think were freed?”
“Too many.” Bele whistled as Orphine clubbed a god with her tail. “I think several of the chambers broke open.”
“Is Lethe at risk, too?”
“Ehthawn and a few other draken are there in case any of them broke off from this mess and are making their way there.” Bele lifted her sword, pointing at the destroyed gate. Her eyes, tapered at the corners, narrowed. “And someone just rang the damn dinner bell because more are coming. We need to end the buffet they’re trying to make of our people.”
Our people.
I looked up and saw the guards on the Rise now, firing at the ground outside the wall. Coughing as a gust of smoke moved over us, I shut myself down as I started forward. They weren’t my people. They never would be. I found the veil of nothingness welcoming as it settled over me. Then, I felt absolutely numb. No intense urging of the embers. No pinching guilt that stung my skin with each new scream. No agony of seeing Davina. No dread of others being hurt or worse. No fear of Nyktos being wounded or curiosity why I was so worried about that and the concern that fostered. I fell into the controlled madness of battle and became what I’d always been.
A killer.
A monster.
I drove the spear into a god’s heart and then tore it free. Several strands of hair whipped around my face as I spun, striking down another and then another. Twisting sharply, I used the spear’s side to knock a fallen god away as I jerked the spear back, impaling the god behind me. Snarling, I kicked the fallen free as I turned, driving the point through the back of a head. Orphine followed, catching others between her powerful jaws or burning them with fire. She stayed close to me as I worked my way through the courtyard.
I didn’t keep track of how many lives were lost—how many I was taking—as sweat dampened my brow. I’d ended seventeen lives before I came to the Shadowlands—eighteen if I counted Tavius. My lip curled in disgust as I thrust once more. I didn’t count my stepbrother, as he was below even a barrat, but I hadn’t tallied since I’d entered the Shadowlands, and I couldn’t start now.
Blood stained my robe as I spun, driving the spear through a back and then a head. My muscles ached, but adrenaline pumped hotly through me as I whirled, jabbing the shadowstone spear through the chest of a fallen god on fire. Bolts of eather ripped through the smoke, coming from Bele and Ector as well as several of the guards. I quickly noticed that the ones Ector and the other guards hit with eather were only wounded, but the ones that Bele struck went down for the count. Hadn’t Saion been willing to bet that Bele was stronger now? That was a bet he’d win.
Spinning, I slammed the side of the spear into one of the fallen gods that Ector had hit with eather, knocking it to the ground. I lifted the weapon—