Oath of the Alpha - Eva Dresden Page 0,22

her chin. “Find your Er’it. Save him, too, if you’ve a mind.”

Breath leaving her in a rattle sounding much like the awful chuckle of her humor, Marilsa’s bright green gaze dimmed. Light snuffed out in an instant, there was nothing but a weak bag of bones left in its wake.

Aida did not imagine the serene set of Marilsa’s lips.

Though she began crying as hard as she ever had, sobbing over the broken body of a woman she could scarce call a friend, Aida hoped Marilsa’s words were true and prayed she had wanted this, that she had done whatever she did knowing this could be the outcome. Still, it was another death laid at Aida’s feet, another life lost because of her. Scrubbing the back of her hand against her cheek, Aida cried hard enough to gag and sputter. Pulling the small knife and its sheath from Marilsa’s belt and stuffing it into the bag of food, Aida gained her feet and looked around the clearing, crying all the harder for what she saw.

Lush greenery had blackened, oily sludge replacing the tufts of long grasses in spots. So fouled in places Aida wondered if it wasn’t worse than it had been, the places not affected by the putrid blackness were starker and all the more fragile for it. Bastions of emerald and moss, delicate purples and pinks—all trembled at the encroaching shadows.

Aida fell to her knees, retching into the muck. Gagging harder as the scent of dead, rotten things infiltrated her senses, she threw herself backward, scrambling away from the festering decay until she could drag in a breath not tainted by it. Even then, she shuddered and choked.

A rustling in the woods made her shriek, sending her feet sliding through drifts of crispy leaves and sludge alike while she hurried away from the thunder storming closer by the second. Catching a glimmer of something dark and ominous through the remains of a blossoming limb, she turned and ran, sprinting her way through the forest and away from whatever danger might lie behind her.

Chapter 5

Er’it

Kal slowed to a walk, tossing his head and snorting. The brilliant white light dimmed, fading to nothing more than his usual silken gray as he picked his way through a tangle of vines and fallen timbers. The Phylix raised his head, seeking something in the wind, the failure to find it aggravating him all the more.

“It’s all right, old friend,” Er’it murmured as he slid from Kal’s back, patting the bunched muscles of Kal’s shoulder as he moved ahead to peer through the seemingly impenetrable vines. It was not magic this time, no latent power creating illusions. Sturdy as anything, the thick vegetation refused to allow them passage. “We’ll have to find a way around it.”

Kal snorted and huffed, rearing up to send his thundering cry ricocheting through the dank trees. Sharp hooves slashed at the vines as good as any honed blade, but even with Kal’s will behind it, there was little progress. Decades of growth, layer upon layer, refused to submit to Kal’s destruction.

“You’re going to tire yourself, or worse. We’ll find a way around it.”

Determined now, Er’it set off to the right, thinking any direction as good as the next. Pulling his sword free to cut away what he could, Er’it shouldered his way through the limbs and branches. Boots snagging on hidden roots and unseen vines, he cursed a vivid bloody streak and made his way forward. Kal followed tight on Er’it’s heels, snapping his teeth at the shadows, his rumbles and rasping sounds creating a storm around them. Er’it did not doubt the Phylix kept a greater danger than a bit of greenery at bay.

Night wore on around them, every step forward hard earned with sweat and blood. Just as it seemed to be thinning, Er’it fell to his knees with a ragged cry.

Searing through him, it was like swallowing liquid winter. Wine dark and twice as intoxicating, it burned his veins, crackling along his skin and painting his lungs in ice. As his fingers delved deep into the ground rumbling beneath him, Er’it’s shout became a roar. Sweet as spring, it flooded his senses, caressing his very soul with the chill of snow as his back bowed with the strain of remaining on hands and knees. The force of it pushed him into the soft earth, dirt that was no longer fetid and slimy but dark with life.

Whispering cries fled through the surrounding trees, whipping the branches into a