Chosen (The Warrior Chronicles #1)(37)

Chapter 19

Shanti sucked air in, panting with fatigue. She’d heard Sanders yelling a while ago, his vicious body ripping and tearing his way out toward her, but he couldn’t get far enough. She was cast off in a sea of filth, disgusting Mugdock creatures all around her. Even Lucius had been forced back, trying to stick with her, but under siege and unable to hold his ground.

She was actually happy. She was tired of this life, tired of overwhelming odds. She wanted to do her part and let the sea take her under, to die in battle, like her parents and grandparents. She would go down, but first she would take as many as she could.

Summoning all her remaining strength, Shanti cut off the connection with Lucius and her Honor Guard, hoping they wouldn’t be overcome by the fear she was keeping hidden from their brains. She brought her mental net tight to her surroundings, then rezoned it out in front of her, aiming for the largest mass of enemy. There wasn’t much she could do with those behind her—she was too tired to pick out individual mental paths. She might accidently hit some of her own, and that would defeat the purpose.

She blocked a thrust headed toward her head, turned another to the side, and grabbed the two minds in front of her as if her hands were made from needles. Mugdock released their swords immediately and clutched nasty, matted hair. Dirty faces screamed in agony as they fell.

Now was the time.

She seized everyone in front of her, out for fifty spans, all those bundles of emotion and intent flashing in her mind’s eye. She focused her power, called up her strength, pulled at the life-force in the surrounding wood, and flashed.

A huge jolt of power ripped from her, dropping her to her knees. Sinking into hundreds of minds. Boiling spires with searing edges. Burning out their minds.

The battlefield erupted in tortured screams. Swords dropped, falling into the mud with a soft thud. Dirty nails dug into temples, the pain unbearable. Consuming. And, finally, killing.

Shanti allowed a relieved smile as she fell, face first, into the bloody mud. It was finally over. This life filled with pain and loss could finally be forgotten.

****

She was pushed ahead of him, roughly. She didn’t want to go. She couldn’t. Her grandfather had been cut down ten feet from where she worked. Her Chance had felled the man, but there were more coming. Tens of hundreds of thousands running up the slope. They were beaten. She was beaten. They had lasted longer than expected, but the inevitable had come to pass. She had a destiny to fulfill.

“Go, Chosen. Go!”

She was pushed again, large hands steering her, forcing her to move away. Forcing her to retreat. Moving her to the path that would lead into the hills. She had her map and supplies hidden. She would start on her journey.

Chance pushed at her. Harder now. She stumbled through the narrow lane of her village, the place deserted. Everyone had been evacuated to either join the fight or get the children away. Some had to knowingly sacrifice themselves so that others might live.

Past the village they saw the first signs of struggle. Some of the enemy had snuck in the back, probably trying to ferret away anyone they could. The Graygual wanted specimens and promised a handsome payment for any living captures. They didn’t care the sex or age; they wanted examples. They would pay more for young women, however. Women exactly Shanti’s age and description. They wanted the woman that could kill from thirty paces away. They wanted her alive. They wanted to tame her. Then breed her. Then use her and her offspring as their ultimate weapon. The safe guard against the new empire.

Chance pushed her along until she was stumbling into the small clearing behind her village. Into the pleasant green meadow where she had gone often with Romie. Her first kiss had been next to that old shed. She had lost her virginity to him just under the tree at the edge. It had been the site of some of her best memories.

The breeze of the afternoon gently disturbed the green blades of grass. The flies disturbed the dead bodies.

Shanti hesitated with surprise at the sea of limbs piled together, sticking out at grotesque angles.

Chance shoved her forward, steered, and shoved again, working around the sightless eyes, the sagging faces. She felt like a wooden puppet held together with cable pulled too tight. Her legs and arms wouldn’t work properly, her head bobbing animatedly on her wagging shoulders.

From a bloody patch of mud, brown eyes stared at her, rims outlined in blood. She staggered, a sob ripping from her throat.

They hadn’t told her Romie was one of the Sacrificed. He hadn’t told her. He’d said he would be safe! He would be there when she got back. He was going to look after the children, he said. He wasn’t one of the best, but he was well liked. They had agreed to let him go.

She crumpled to her knees beside him, pawing at his blood stained chest. Strong hands grabbed her shoulders, trying to drag her away. Her cries reverberated across the dead meadow.

Romie had offered to die for their people. For her duty. For his own.

He was leaving her to a world devoid of his spirit. Of his earthen eyes. He had left her forever, and she had no choice but to continue. Now alone.

“You must go, Chosen. Go! Keep going!”

Chapter 20

Shanti opened her eyes in the dim light. Agony flared through her body.

Pain meant she wasn’t dead. Now how did that happen?

She wiggled her toes. It felt like two might be broken. She moved her fingers. They worked just fine. Each knee lifted with incredible muscle pain, but nothing deeper. Arms the same. Ribs felt like someone was sitting on her chest. One or two were probably cracked. She’d gotten a good blow by a fleking colossal. She’d ensured he died slowly with a puncture to the stomach, but still, it hadn’t been her finest moment.