The Witch's Eye
Page 30
Danica wrapped her arms around Cross.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” she said.
He held her close. There were so many things he needed to say, but at that moment all he wanted was to hold her.
“Cross!” Flint yelled. “Cross…please…”
“What…”
Shiv’s body was on the ground.
“No…Christ, no…”
His breath caught in his chest. He stumbled forward.
Shiv.
The girl’s eyes were closed. She lay on her back. Her skin was rigid and pale. Cross collapsed on the ground and grabbed her hand. She felt like ice.
“Shiv!” he yelled.
“Oh baby girl!” Flint cried. His voice was frantic. He tried to hold himself together, but the sobs came uncontrollably. He gasped and cried and smothered his daughter in his arms. “Don’t leave me, Shiv, please!”
“Shiv!” Cross yelled again.
He saw Snow. Burning on the train.
No. Snow is gone. You have to let her go.
He held onto Shiv’s hand. He knew she could feel him.
Danica pressed against his back. Flint’s tears stained the ground.
Come back to us. Please. I want to believe everything can be ok. I need to believe. Please.
“Please,” he said aloud.
He felt something. A presence shimmered in the air. He closed his eyes, and he was in the glade. He saw her at the edge of the trees. Her gossamer dress blew in the icy wind. Marsh waters rushed around him. Leaves drifted through the sky like birds. She smiled, and waved goodbye.
His eyes opened, and so did Shiv’s. She gasped, and coughed. Some grey substance spewed from between her lips, a gob of ghostly smoke that sizzled when it struck the ground. She bent to her side and coughed up more fluid, spat, coughed again.
She was alive.
Flint held her tight, still crying.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he said. “I thought I’d lost you, girl.”
“I love you, Daddy,” she said weakly. She looked up at Cross, and smiled. He smiled back. “Is this your friend?” she asked, and she looked at Danica.
“Yes,” Cross said. “This is my friend.” He looked at her. “Danica, meet Shiv. I think she just saved the world.”
They carefully made their way up the slope. There was no sign of Azradayne except for a patch of greasy blood where Cross had wounded her. The limbs he’d taken had shriveled to piles of grey silk.
The sounds of fighting were gone. Dawn cracked over the horizon. The air was cold and filled with ice crystals, and the sound of waves crashing against the island echoed into the crater.
They were far from anywhere safe. Cross hoped some of Ankharra’s men or the Grey Watch had survived the battle and would still be nearby to help. He hated to think they’d lived through their battle with Azradayne just to be left at the mercy of the Ebon Cities.
The gate remained closed. Whatever Azradayne planned to do had failed.
But she escaped. She’s still out there somewhere. Waiting.
He tried not to worry about that, at least for the moment. Cross watched Flint and Shiv, father and daughter, as they walked up the slope. They were happy. They were alive.
But for how long?
It was up to him to keep them that way.
Grail scouted ahead. They came across the remains of several Witchborn, now just husks of gooey flesh. He was grateful Flint kept Shiv distracted from the sight of them.
“Cross,” Danica said. She walked next to him. He looked at her, and his heart skipped in his chest. She was so beautiful. Her hair was darker now, and she had many scars, as did he. They both had more than their fair share. “I don’t know what happened to Ronan,” she said sadly.
“We’ll find him,” he said. “If he’s here…we’ll find him.”
They walked. Their legs were weary.
He wanted to say more to her, but he couldn’t find the words. So they just walked.
“What happened back there?” she asked.
“Shiv used our spirits,” he said. “She can do that. She used them to save us. To close the gate Azradayne tried to open.”
“Wait…your spirit is…”
“I know,” he said, and he smiled sadly. “I know. It was…nice to see her again.” He hesitated. “Danica…listen…”
She took his hand, and halted him with a kiss. Her lips were salty and sweet, and softer than anything he’d ever felt.
“I know,” she said. “I know.”
The five of them walked up the hill, towards the light of dawn.
Thank you, he thought. Thank you for letting us be here. Here in this new day.
Cross took Danica’s hand. He looked at her. It had been so long since he’d felt love he almost couldn’t recognize it for what it was.
Something moved behind them. A ripple in the darkness. Air displaced by something below drifted up and touched Cross’s face. It smelled of black water and burning skin.
“Cross,” Shiv said. Her eyes were wide with terror. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sense them before.”
Grail raced towards them with his bow ready. Flint looked back to where the gate had stood.
“What is that?” he asked.
Something was down there: a nest of pulsing shadows. Breaths like night frost washed over them.
The gate was broken. Azradayne had failed.
And yet something had still come through. A mass of darkness. Shapes so black they burned the eyes to look on them.
“Run,” Cross said. “Now.”
They scrambled up the hill. Whatever the forms were, they didn’t give chase. They were impossible to make out clearly, just vague definitions in the darkness, multi-limbed things bound in skins of black ice. Their breath felt like the cold winds of hell, and their darkness weighted the air. They were shadowflesh, cold voids within hulking oblivion bodies. The earth greyed from their presence.
Cross led the others away from the ruins of the gate. Fear iced his heart. The five survivors ran.
Behind them, a host of dark creatures howled into the sky.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Steven Montano can’t believe he’s written five full-length novels in this series. Writing five more will likely be the death of him. But hey…it was fun while it lasted.
He lives in Washington State with his wife, two children, a dog of below-average intelligence, and a ridiculous number of books and bottles of wine.
Visit Steven’s official website, bloodskies.com