Page 447 of Of Empires and Dust
Ella roared and charged, pushing through the crowd. To her left, Farda raised his sword over Calen and stopped when he saw her, his eyes staring into her soul. An arrow sliced through his arm, white blood spraying, and Ella darted into the flames of her home.
Farda broughthis blade down with a crunch into the neck of a hawk large enough to pick up a horse. Blood spurted, and brittle bones gave way. The Angan screamed and thrashed, its talons slicing through Farda’s shirt and gouging the flesh beneath.
Faenir crashed into the creature’s chest, ripping and tearing, bloodied feathers and chunks of flesh coming away in his teeth. He brought the Angan to the ground and tore at its throat, thrashing his head left and right until the creature’s shrieks died.
The wolfpine stood over the dead Angan and howled, blood dripping from his jaws.
A monstrosity of a man charged at Faenir, and the wolfpine turned and snarled, ready to leap, but Tanner swept across him and drove a sword through the man’s skull, twisting the blade at the end. The druid went limp and dropped as Tanner pulled the sword free.
All three of them stood around Ella and Tamzin, who were frozen like statues, their eyes pure white.
Farda had seen many things across the centuries, but nothing like this.
Before him, wolves and bears and hawks – all far larger than they had a right to be – ripped each other to pieces, drenching the entire platform in blood and scattering body parts.
Here and there, druids and Angan dropped dead without a blade touching them, and at the centre of it all, two gods collided.
A wolf and a bear both as large as dragons smashed each other through the stone terraces of the basin, tearing strips of flesh from one another, the ground shaking beneath their weight.
Elven warriors rushed through the entrance, bows and swords in hand, gawking at the carnage within the basin.
Portals opened from thin air, showing a world of misty white on the other side, druids and Angan stepping through. Farda could see a battle raging beyond the portals, as though the fighting were happening in two worlds at one time.
In that moment, he heard something: Ella screaming, pain etched into her voice. The sound of it sent a shiver through him. He stared at the nearest portal, then back at Ella.
Farda grabbed Tanner’s arm. “Protect her with your life.”
“Always,” Tanner answered.
Farda broke into a sprint, sliding across the stone as a bear large enough to bite a horse in half charged across his path. He slid beneath the creature, then wove threads of Air into a ball in his hand and slammed it down. Farda spun as he rose, the Air propelling him, his blade carving through the bear’s leg.
The sword cut clean, blood streaming in its wake, and the bear collapsed on its side, howling and kicking.
Farda carried on into a sprint in the same motion and leapt through the portal before it collapsed behind him.
His entire body went cold as ice, his heartbeat thumping in his veins, every hair on his body standing on end. He stood in the same place, in the Tahír un Ilyienë, the Ilyienë tree looming over him. But here its leaves glowed with variegated light, shimmering and pulsing.
Tanner was gone, as were Faenir and the other wolves, and Ah-aela, but the Angan, the druids, and the two gods fought here with an even greater savagery. White mist trailed every movement, black, gold, and grey smoke shrouding the battling warriors.
The two gods were titans, two hundred feet tall, white blood spilling like rain. They stood on two legs, their faces looking part bear and wolf, part man.
Farda had never felt so insignificant, so powerless.
A shriek sounded above, and Farda lifted his head to see a hawk so large it covered the sky. The creature swooped down and latched its talons into the back of the wolf god, gold smoke pluming as white blood spilled.
Through it all, Farda saw Ella and Tamzin, two Fenryr Angan standing guard over them. He ran, his entire body feeling as though he’d dropped himself into a lake, his skin cold, veins cold, bones cold. This place did not want him. And yet, there was somethingmorehere. As though he were that little bit closer to being whole.
Ella stood with her eyes closed, hands grasping Tamzin’s wrists while Tamzin’s palms were flat on Ella’s shoulders.
Tamzin’s eyes narrowed as she saw Farda, her pupils sharpening to black slits. “You should not be here.”
“Well, I am.”
“You don’t understand,” Tamzin said, glancing back at Ella. “Souls like yours were not meant for Níthianelle. Mortal souls should not walk this place, let alone souls that are shattered.”
Farda looked down at his hands and realised cracks spread through his body like a dropped vase, gleaming light slipping through the gaps.
“Listen to me.”
