A Poison Dark and Drowning (Kingdom on Fire #2)(37)
Three riders on horseback emerged around the corner of the building, the light of dawn at their backs. A man and two women, they had been fully skinned and were slick with blood from head to toe. Their mounts were no different; the beasts had slick, equine heads with no ears, and blood dripped from their snouts. They snorted, pawing at the earth and chomping on their bits. The saddles had been tanned and fashioned from some kind of pink flesh that I didn’t think was leather. The power—and stench—that wafted from them made my stomach turn.
So these were R’hlem’s personal riders. This was what he’d wanted to do to me.
The creatures paused, assessing us. The rider on the left turned in her saddle and whispered to her friends. They seemed rather baffled by our appearance.
Then again, it wasn’t every day four young sorcerers strolled past the barrier to court danger. Few were that stupid.
One of the Familiars, a man, trotted forward with his hand extended. As a unit, we backed away on instinct.
“Come with me, lady, and we will not harm your friends. The bloody king gives his word.” The muscles of his cheeks contracted, revealing more of his gums and teeth. He was grinning. “The bloody king wants you alone.”
The bloody king. I’d heard Gwen refer to R’hlem by that title before.
“I’m not a lady,” I replied, taking my dagger by the hilt. “I’m a sorcerer.”
The skinned rider laughed. “You’ve brought this upon yourself.” He raised one bloody hand to the sky and closed it in a tight fist.
As if on cue, dark forms erupted from the shattered windows, swarming in a deadly mass into the air. Ravens came for us in a screaming black cloud of bristling feathers.
As the Familiars swooped, we panicked and blasted them with fire, forgetting the new weapons to fall back on sorcerer techniques. Billows of flame roasted some of the birds, but not all. They met in the air, congealed, and formed into hideous, manlike creatures with hooded faces and razor-sharp claws. They dove for us, coming in low. We were about to be outnumbered.
“Get the flute!” I called to Dee. He slipped it out of its muter, resheathed his stave, and played.
The exploding sound carried over the battlefield. Ravens plummeted from the sky, littering the earth. For a brief moment, the fighting stopped.
But the four of us had also fallen to the ground, ears ringing, and the three skinless Familiars seemed better able to shake it off. They galloped for us, drawing out long swords carved from bone.
One of the women tried to grab me, and I swiped with my dagger, fending her off as best I could. The blade whined and vibrated heavily in my hand, twisting my wrist and making me swear. Magnus and Blackwood attempted the corkscrew swords, but the riders easily knocked the weapons from their hands. The boys barely survived. Blackwood launched a quick spell that shook the earth beneath the riders’ feet. Magnus followed it with a blast of wind, toppling one of the skinned women off her horse. Blackwood took the opportunity and stabbed her with his dagger. He pierced the rider through the heart, yes, but with an explosion of light that flipped him onto his back.
The ravens began to regroup and circle overhead. God, was no one at the barrier going to help?
I put the whistle to my lips and blew. Not a damned thing happened. The riders and the ravens didn’t even blink.
Bother the new weapons. I grabbed Porridge and burst into flames, shooting fireballs and crisping the bastard ravens as they dove. Good. That was progress, at last. I managed to get to the boys, signaling Dee to join us as we regrouped. I kept burning, though my fire faltered a bit—I was using too much energy too fast.
“Knock her unconscious,” the lead rider yelled, galloping by on his horse.
Dee unlooped the whip and lashed at him. Violet light erupted from the weapon’s tip, stinging my eyes. My nose began to gush blood, my mouth flooding with the coppery taste. The two remaining riders wheeled their horses and prepared to charge us.
“Bother the cursed weapons, Dee. Fight back,” Blackwood shouted, dropping his sword to the ground. He summoned stones from the rubble and launched them in a projectile attack. The stones slowed the riders, who had to dodge and weave to avoid them.
Dee and Magnus stood back to back, creating a vortex of wind. The raven Familiars swooped, flashes of white faces and fanged mouths visible beneath their hoods. But they couldn’t withstand the force of the wind and were sucked up into the sky.
I could feel my energy draining. Thinking quickly, I ran from the boys and slumped to the ground in a faint. Hoofbeats drew closer, and closer, until…
I rolled onto my back and sent a last burst of flame at the rider above me. The woman fell off her frenzied horse and landed heavily. She curled into a ball and died. I lay still, my cheek pressed against the cold ground, unable to tear my gaze away from her charred body. I’d killed a shadow Familiar before, and Korozoth, but not something that looked so…human. The smell reminded me of roast pork.
My stomach rippled, and I managed to get to my knees before throwing up.
The lead rider roared. He broke free from the rubble and wheeled his horse toward me, his sword high over his head. Before he could attack, Blackwood rose up behind him, brought his stave down in a whipping arc, and stabbed the skinned man between his shoulder blades. The rider fell, and Blackwood, with two more swings of his stave, kept him down for good.
Blood streaked Blackwood’s pale face, but he didn’t even wipe at it.