“What’s wrong, Stargirl?” Cyph asked.
“It’s Ophelia,” Vale panted, skidding to a stop before me, her long silk skirt shredding on the broken glass. Her eyes swirled with the silver haze of a powerful session, her wavy hair frizzy and dust covered. “She’s going to do something horrible.”
“Ophelia,” Tolek echoed, but Cypherion shoved him harder against the wall, kicking weakly at his shin to distract him.
“What’s she doing?” I asked, trying to ignore them despite the panic rattling my chest.
Vale looked nervously between me and Tolek, and I had a sick feeling she’d seen this very moment written out by the Fates, even if she hadn’t known what it meant then.
She shook away whatever fortune was clouding her memory. “I’ll tell you on the way.”
“Go,” Cypherion said, jerking his head toward Tolek. “I’ll take care of him.”
With only a nod and a final look at Tolek’s enraged,wrongstare, I tightened my grip on my sword, and I ran after the Fatecatcher.
Chapter Eighty-Two
Santorina
Shadowed beasts prowled around Xenovia,pouncing on unaware warriors as they stumbled into the dark patches before buildings and beneath awnings. They didn’t differentiate from our allies or Thorn’s foot soldiers, tackling anyone that stepped in their path.
“Santorina, behind you!” Celissia called.
I spun, striking out with my dagger on instinct. It sank into the exposed throat of another dark nemaxese as it lunged for me. Lancaster grabbed the creature from behind, tearing it to bits in a way that I’d hate if he wasn’t doing it for me.
I faced the battle again. My friends. Where were they? Damien flew off with Ophelia. Jezebel and Vale had been soaring above, the khrysaor chasing someone through the smoke, but I had to find the rest of them. To make sure they weren’t hurt—or worse.
The thought took root, and I charged for the heart of the melee. Echnid’s cerberus was stomping through the city, a chorus of barks echoing into the smoky night. I wasn’t sure what was worse—the three-headed creature or the shadow beasts.
“You’re okay, Bounty?” Lancaster checked as he sped up beside me.
“Doing just fine, Hunter.”
Blood stained us both, splattered head to Godsdamned toe, but the wound in my side was entirely healed, nothing more than a raw pink scar peeking through the torn fabric.
Since Lancaster’s blood melded into my bloodstream, I’d been energized more than ever before. Was this what it felt like to be near-immortal? This strong, this fast? Goddess, it was exhilarating as we raced through the battling crowds of warriors, leaving non-fatal injuries behind to slow them down.
But there were so many of them—too many of them. More of our side was falling back, trying to recoup their injured while they could.
The remaining gorgons were shifted into their full form, flying above and dropping down before defenseless warriors, the head-on sight of their bright red eyes turning the warriors to stone. So many of our own had been frozen that way, an entire corner of the square a statuesque graveyard.
But Sapphire swooped low over them, emitting what resembled Ophelia’s myth magic, and?—
Gods. Some of the stone warriors were waking.
Celissia and Mora fought fiercely at our backs, the Engrossian keeping up better than expected even if we slowed our pace for her at times. She used her hatchet to disarm opponents, but there were too many rimming this outer courtyard. And killing them would not end this fight.
“We should get to the center!” I yelled. “There’s no way Ophelia isn’t going after Echnid, and she may need?—”
A high-pitched shriek cut me off.
Lancaster, Celissia, and I turned toward it.
“No,” I gasped as a shadowed nemaxese sank its teeth into Mora’s gut.
Terror flooded my chest. Not just my terror, I realized. It was too all-consuming and life-altering to just be mine. This was Lancaster’s horror I was feeling as he raced toward the beast, his fury as he watched it drop his sister to the ground, the female’s blood running too fast for her to?—
My throat was tight. Too constricted to breathe.
