Bloodwalk - James P. Davis [45]
Eli watched him until he disappeared behind sheets of rain, where even the lightning could not show him to her.
* * * * *
From a distance, the surviving tower of Jhareat pointed like a jagged bone into the black vortex of flashing thunderheads above. It rose from the center of a bowl-shaped depression, surrounded by the forest, which sloped steeply downhill toward the crumbled bits of stone, all that was left of Jhareat's once strong outer walls. Whether the slope was natural or some ancient crater made during the city's fall, Morgynn could not tell.
The strange tales of the ruin of the once mighty city were sketchy and fanciful at best, so she hadn't pressed her contacts in Derlusk for more than its location. She'd grown tired of sagelike explanation and speculation.
From behind a large stone, Khaemil appeared, slowly and deliberately making himself visible as he approached. He had learned not to surprise Morgynn, and made all effort to ignore his primal instinct to remain quiet and unseen.
Patiently, for the moment, she waited as he came closer, noting the grim look of bad tidings on his ebony face. Her mood froze in midswing, somewhere between her recent success with the pale sisters and whatever nerve Khaemil might choose to strike in the next few moments. Chaos boiled in her mind and she closed her eyes to take a deep breath, dreading her own wild emotions.
"My Lady Morgynn," Khaemil bowed slightly at the waist, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Yes, Khaemillenthranux, I hear you. Speak."
Her use of his true name caused him to wince as if jabbed by a dagger. A fiend's true name held power for those with the proper knowledge, and Morgynn's tone conveyed her growing impatience clearly. She knew something was wrong. Sweating in the chilly air, he obeyed her.
"Talmen and his followers have detected a presence in the forest, east of here." He swallowed and gritted his teeth, but kept his eyes level as he reported. "Hunters from Brookhollow have entered the edge of the Qurth. They seek us even now, just past the fringes."
Words failed her and rage bloomed in her heart, racing through her body. Outwardly, she showed no signs of her turmoil, but Khaemil stepped back a pace. She could almost see his pulse beating in the air, fluttering to escape her anger. Morgynn looked to the east, sniffing the air and searching for those wayward heartbeats, foreign to her. She would know them.
"Hold still," she said, walking purposefully toward him as one might approach a door.
Such was her purpose.
Her hands entered his chest, splashing crimson as they disappeared. Her arms and torso followed, racing along his veins and through his body.
A vast plain of red opened before her eyes, crisscrossed with corridors and tunnels. This was the void of the blood's magic, one river leading to the next, the connection known only by those of her kind. Distance meant little here, and time even less. Instantly she was drawn to those faint heartbeats she imagined and could now see. Beacons of pulsing red light called her to their corridors, their tunnels.
* * * * *
As he felt Morgynn's presence pass into him then leave him, Khaemil gasped for breath. He was winded, but otherwise none the worse for wear. It was never pleasant to be the portal that initiated the bloodwalk, but it was a far less fearsome fate than befell the recipient.
CHAPTER TEN
The forest felt like a living, breathing beast, fighting the hunters' efforts to penetrate its depths. Rhaeme's curved blade hacked ceaselessly through the thick undergrowth of twisted vegetation. They marched in a sideways gait, their armored sword arms bent to push forward, wielding the curved blades typical of Hidden Circle warriors. Their shield arms held thick ironvine cloaks tightly to protect against lashing razor leaves and the seeking tendrils of bloodthorns.
The rain had eased since they'd passed beneath the almost-solid