War (The Four Horsemen #2) - Laura Thalassa Page 0,96
then the sound of War unsheathing his sword again.
“Miriam!”
Now people are beginning to leave their houses, and the screams are starting to catch on. The phobos riders thunder down the street, their howls becoming almost deafening, and I have to duck to avoid getting gouged by an axe-wielding rider.
“Miriam!” War’s voice rings out again, but I don’t dare tear my gaze away from the fighting to look at him.
Another phobos rider singles me out, breaking away from the group to hunt me down. Rapidly I grab an arrow and nock it. I release the string, letting the arrow fly. It misses the rider, but pierces the flesh of his mount. As I watch, the horse rears back, and the man falls off.
My hand itches to grab another arrow and finish the soldier off.
You’re making my job easier.
I curse under my breath and run.
Chapter 37
Find the aviaries.
If I can get there, maybe I can at least do some good.
Around me, dozens of flaming arrows are arcing through the sky. I never thought cities like Jerusalem or this one could burn. There’s nothing so obviously flammable about them. But now that this city is catching fire right before me, I notice that there are canvas awnings and lines of clothes and curtains and shrubbery and wooden carts and stalls and so many other flammable things that can catch fire. And as I run, they do.
People are beginning to swarm the streets as they try to escape. Children are crying—hell, grown men and women are crying—families are fleeing and it’s all so, so hopeless.
I almost miss the aviary. The birds aren’t making much noise and everything on the streets is drowning out whatever sounds they are making.
I rush inside, and nearly get beheaded by a middle-aged man with an axe.
I jerk back just in time to miss the blade, but only just.
“I’m not here to hurt you!” I say.
He grips his weapon tighter. “You look like it to me.”
I hadn’t thought through the fact that I might look like the enemy. “I want to send out a message.”
The man brings his arm back, the axe blade gleaming. “I bet you do, you filthy liar. Get out of my building. Now.”
“War can raise the dead,” I rush out. “Did you know that?”
“Get out,” the man says again.
“He has an army, but he uses his dead to kill off everyone,” I rush out. “That’s why no one knew he was coming.”
Behind the man, I see a shaking older woman still in her night clothes. Probably his wife.
“Please,” I beg, looking at her. Already, the sounds are getting louder as the army encroaches outside, and the caged birds are beginning to look a little agitated, fluttering then resettling their wings. “I need to warn other cities. There’s not much time.”
“Why should I believe you?” the man says, drawing my attention back to him.
“Because I’ve seen it.”
He still doesn’t appear convinced.
“Look, if I wanted to do you harm, I wouldn’t try to reason with you. If we can get a message out, we can alert other cities.” And just maybe they’ll have time to evacuate before War’s army arrives.
The woman at the back of the building steps up to her husband. “Listen to the girl.”
The man looks harried. “She’s fighting with the horseman,” he objects.
“If you don’t write down her message, I will,” his wife says, a fire in her eyes.
I feel my throat thicken. This is the piece of humanity that I’ve been missing for so long. Bravery in the face of death.
Huffing, the man heads over to a desk pushed beneath the storefront’s main window. “What would you have me write?” he asks, disgruntled.
I turn to face the door, drawing an arrow, prepared to defend this place while I can.
I take a deep breath. “‘War is coming,’” I begin. “‘The horseman has an army at least 5,000 strong, and he’s been traveling down the coast from Israel.’” I continue. “‘He can raise the dead, and his dead patrol every city he’s raided, looking to kill any who survive—’”
The door to the aviary bangs open, and instinctively I release my arrow. I hit the soldier right between the eyes. The woman screams, recoiling back a little.
I grimace, but nock my bow again, pointing the weapon at the ground while I reach out and lock the door.
I call over to the man. “‘—Port Said is already falling as I write this,’” I say, continuing to direct the note. “‘Warn all you can of what I’ve told you.’”