Madness of the Horde King - Zoey Draven Page 0,104

perhaps with Lokkaru it would be the same. I could harvest her memories and if I was lucky I would find the one I wanted. But it was better than doing nothing at all. It was my only chance.

I gathered my power in front of me, building it in the space between myself and the older Dakkari female. It came easily. So much more easily than it normally did, more evidence that it was growing stronger, more powerful.

Then I pressed forward…

Into coldness. Into nothingness.

A ragged gasp tore from my throat like a sob and I stumbled back, nearly toppling over the fire basin that was burning low in the voliki. My back hit her workbench, rattling my spine, toppling blue columns of candles around me, which thudded to the floor.

Horror and disbelief kept me sprawled, the icy tendrils of that brief intrusion into her mind crawling over my skin.

“Lokkaru?” I whispered, afraid. Nausea built up in my belly.

Oh gods.

Then I was scrambling up from the ground, throwing more fuel onto the fire so it roared to life.

So I could see.

And when I looked back at Lokkaru, I saw what I feared. Her eyes were closed, her lips slightly curled in a secretive smile, one she’d worn earlier just that afternoon.

But her chest didn’t move with her breaths. When I touched her hand, lying stiffly at her side, it was cold.

Oh gods.

She was dead.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Vienne was pale and listless as she stood towards the back of dozens and dozens of Dakkari.

The horde had gathered to give Lokkaru back to the earth, back to Kakkari. I’d chosen to have her buried on the shores of one of the only lakes in the eastlands. They were few and far between but this lake had a beauty of its own and reflected the moonlight on the edges of the territory.

Since most of the eastlands belonged to the ungira, we’d needed to travel far enough away to ensure no packs were nearby. They burrowed under the earth and I wanted to ensure that Lokkaru rested with peace as Kakkari welcomed her home once more.

I was keenly aware that the lake was near the ancient groves, where Lokkaru had told me the heartstone lay, buried with her father’s body.

The horde had traveled the majority of the afternoon, forgoing daily tasks, daily duties, daily trainings. Our horde lay empty and deserted further east but we would return in the early hours of morning after we said our final goodbyes.

It was my duty as Vorakkar to dig out the earth where Lokkaru would rest. She was wrapped in shimmering gold cloth, from head to toe. Her body had been cleaned and lovingly washed, her skin oiled. She’d been adorned with gold and trinkets, her face veiled in transparent cloth.

The golden glow of torchlight illuminated her resting place. I wiped my brow, my bare chest streaked with black earth, as I lifted my arms towards Hedna, who lowered Lokkaru’s stiff body into them.

I turned and gently laid her inside, kneeling in the deep earth beside her. For a moment, I breathed in the fragrant soil, an ache settling in my chest. It was dark there and I knew what I would see before I did.

The shadow of Lokkaru was next to me. Her eyes were glowing, a soft smile on her face that seemed frozen into place.

“Do not fear this,” she whispered to me, the appearance of her shadowed form making my breath hitch in my chest, that familiar panic rising. “This is not a terrible thing.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, my head beginning to pound.

Not now, not now, I pleaded with myself.

When I opened my eyes, Lokkaru’s shadow was gone and my breath released in a rush. Turning my eyes down to her veiled face, I touched her cheek, murmuring a prayer to Kakkari.

“Lik Kakkari srimea tei kirtja,” I murmured.

May Kakkari watch over you.

I stayed there for long moments and then I knew it was time. I rose, pulling myself from her grave, nodding at Hedna before seeking out Vienne once more.

As the rest of the horde came forward, circling the grave, murmuring their own prayers to Kakkari, I went to my leikavi, tucked behind them all.

I was worried about her. She’d returned to my voliki the night before, short moments after she’d left. She’d looked pale.

In a small, calm, even voice, she’d merely said, “Lokkaru is dead.”

She hadn’t cried. She’d seemed…numb. In shock.

She’d been that way ever since, and beyond my own grief, I was worried. I