Thief of Lies - Brenda Drake Page 0,40

torches. Fear twisted my stomach as broken thoughts rushed through my mind.

I can’t fail at this. Thousands of people will die if I do. Epic storms. Death. So many. So many already gone. I’m almost there. The trap. Where is it?

My heels clanked over something metal covered with straw. The trap. A sigh escaped my lips. I reached the end of the hall and turned the doorknob of the only door.

Locked? It should not be locked.

A slow, rumbling thunder echoed down the hall. I spun to face whatever was coming. A reflection flashed across the night-darkened window beside me. I expected to see myself, but instead, it was a beautiful young woman with long blond hair. She reminded me of a fairytale princess in her red-and-gold renaissance dress that touched the floor, except for the sword in her trembling hands.

A mountainous shadow moved down the hall, getting nearer. I gasped, or rather, Sleeping Beauty did. The sword shook as she readied it. The floor cracked from the force of the mammoth footfalls.

The creature stomped into the light. Its facial features were leonine—fierce eyes, flattened nose, cleft upper lip, and fanged teeth—all framed by a dirty-yellow mane that brushed the candelabras hanging from the ceiling. There was something different about this creature, though, something almost human. Claw-like nails twitched at his sides. Scars branched across his face and massive arms. He looked as if someone had cut him up and haphazardly sewn him back together, like an experiment gone epically wrong. And he had friends. Three other creatures followed him.

One had a boar’s head with sharp tusks that protruded out from his lower jaw. Bristly black hair covered most of his body. Another one was a man with two large ram horns coming out of his forehead that pulled and distorted his face. His torso and upper arms were human, but his forearms and legs were that of a beast—deformed and hooved.

I thought the others were bad, but when the last monster came into the light, a scream jammed in my throat. His forked tongue darted in and out over rows of razor-sharp teeth. Scales covered arms and legs that bent like a lizard’s limbs. The only human parts to him were his pumped-up chest, neck, and abdomen.

They all moved as one—every arm, foot, and head movement a perfectly synchronized performance. It was as if something invisible tethered them together in a diamond formation as they slithered down the hallway.

Lion Man reached her first. “Do not fear, Athela,” he said. “It is I, Barnum.”

“It cannot be,” Athela said, pointing the sword at him. “Thou perished in the great battle. I prepared thy lifeless body for burial.”

“Mykyl brought me back to life…as this being.”

“My father did this?” I knew Athela’s horror as she eyed the thing in front of her.

“Yes, Mykyl did this,” he roared, the windowpanes shaking from the force. “He could not leave me in my glory, a warrior slain. Instead, I am a beast, and my soul is connected to the other warriors he resurrected.”

“Why did he do this to you?” she asked, taking a step back.

“He only needed a body, and I was already dead.”

Fear fisted Athela’s stomach and I felt it, too. I was her, or inside her, but she wasn’t aware of me. I wanted to let her know I was there, that she wasn’t alone, but I didn’t know how. The terror inside her intensified, but she didn’t scream. She stood her ground bravely.

“What others?”

“Chetwin, Felton, and Harlan.” He said their names as he pointed to each—Boar Man, Lizard Man, and Horned Man.

“Masssster, wilt thou sssshare her with ussss?” Felton’s black tongue licked the air with each word.

“No!” Barnum turned and snarled at him. “She is my bride.”

“We watch, then.” Chetwin snorted. “There is no ridding thyself of us. Tell her.”

“Tell her how only thy soul survived the change”—Harlan pounded his hoof against the floor—“and how her father stretched thy soul into our bodies. How we are one soul with four minds.” His eyes focused on Athela. “Give thyself to us. It shall be as if thou art with Barnum.”

Athela choked on a sob.

“Silence!” Barnum slammed his fist into Harlan’s jaw. He stumbled back and the others went with him, pulling Barnum along.

“What will be my fate?” Athela asked.

“Be with me,” Barnum said.

“Thou wilt have me shared with them?” Bile rose in her throat.

“No! I would never…I shall not let them…” Barnum shook his head as he trailed off. “I feel my humanity slipping from

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