The Half King

13

And so began their quest for the Petros Blade.

Cerise learned that in its entirety, the mountain range extended so far that it continued beyond the horizon. But their journey would take them to the nearby blighted peak, the site of the Great Betrayal. That was where the Blighted Shrine had been built and where Cerise would make her offering of darkness and light to the goddess in exchange for the sunset runes. What she intended to offer to satisfy the goddess’s vengeful side remained to be seen.

She kept glancing at the dark peak, expecting it to grow closer as the hours passed, but it remained as distant as ever. Even with her gelding, Ash, doing all of the work, she found the trip up the narrow, winding path comparable to running headlong into a flaming hearth. She didn’t know how Nero could bear it on foot, setting the pace ahead of the horses without breaking a sweat.

“The horses could use some water,” she called to Nero. “Don’t you think?”

“They can always use water, but they don’t need it,” he replied over his shoulder. “They’re not like your beasts in Solon.”

Daerick spoke from behind her. “Most of the species indigenous to Mortara are accustomed to the heat. They can regulate their temperature, and they have special kidneys that recycle water through the bloodstream several times before it’s excreted. That’s why your horse’s urine smells so pungent.”

Cerise sniffed the air. Their trail would certainly be easy to follow.

“Most mountain creatures stay in their dens during the day,” Nero added. “And only come out at night. That’s why I want to reach camp before we stop.”

“What’s so special about your camp?” Daerick asked.

“You’ll see.”

And they did, hours later when the sun hung dangerously low on the horizon. Cerise could barely feel her lower half by that point. Nero led them off the trail to a small plateau, walled in on three sides by great slabs of sienna-colored stone. The area had been cleared of brambles, weeds, and desert saplings. There were scorch marks on the ground where someone, probably Nero, had cooked meals and a packed dirt area backing up to the far wall where he had presumably slept. The space was wide enough to contain all of them, including the horses, but aside from the flat terrain, she didn’t see what made the spot particularly special.

Until Nero strode to the front left wall and reached high above his head, resting his hand on the stone. The air thickened with the tang of metal. A crack appeared in the slab, and a trickle of pure, clean water flowed out.

Cerise had tasted magic. His magic.

There was no denying it anymore.

Thunderstruck, she dismounted Ash, barely noticing the ache in her legs. She was too busy processing what she had witnessed. Ash ambled to the stone and lapped up the water. Blue pawed at the sling, and she set him down to quench his thirst.

“You do have the magic of priests,” she said to Nero. “I tasted it.”

One corner of his mouth curved up. “Like dirt on your tongue?”

“No, like copper.”

“It tastes different for everyone. I know a man who says the flavor reminds him of honey.” Nero muttered under his breath, “The lucky toad.”

Daerick dismounted and lightly slapped his horse’s rump to send it to the spring. He massaged his lower back while pinching his eyebrows together. “Who trained you?”

“My father taught me how to control my energy,” Nero said. “His father taught him, and his grandfather before him, and so on.”

Cerise realized she’d been shaking her head the entire time. She couldn’t fathom the idea of magic being passed down from parent to child. Her entire life, she’d believed that only second-born servants of the goddess could possess a gift. That was what everyone believed. It was common knowledge, written in scrolls: magic and foresight were rewards for a lifetime of devotion at the temple.

How many others like Nero were there?

How had they hidden their existence?

Nero clapped his hands as if to refocus and then pointed at the sky, which had colored with the first blush of dusk. “There’s much to do before dark and not enough time to do it.” He jutted his chin at Daerick. “Tether the horses at the back wall, in the corner if you can. Make sure they’re facing the stone. We don’t want them to see what’s outside the camp.”

That tore Cerise out of her thoughts. “What can I do to help?”

“Climb up there.” Nero indicated a pair of hooks hammered midway up both of the front walls. He dug through his pack and handed her a roll of thin, gauzy fabric. “And hang this.”

“Like a curtain?”

“Exactly like a curtain.”

She turned the fabric over in her hands. As transparent as it was, she didn’t understand how it would hide them from anything. Then there was the matter of their scent. Any predator in creation would be able to smell them through the fabric.

“I don’t have time to explain,” Nero said. “Just do it. I’m going to check my traps. With any luck, we’ll eat more than jerky tonight.”

Nero jogged away, his leather satchel bouncing against his hip. Cerise set to her task of unrolling the gauze to find which way was up. She had no trouble scaling the rubble that led to the first hook, but she needed Daerick’s help with the opposite side, which was steep and difficult to climb. She sat on his shoulders, and they used their combined height to thread the second hook.

“I thought Nero was like the soothsayer or like Seers,” she told Daerick. “That he has a talent supplied by magic, not magic itself.”

“I was surprised, too,” Daerick admitted. “But I also didn’t expect him to disappear with you inside the cave. I didn’t know anyone could do that.”

“We didn’t really disappear. I think we moved to another part of the cave.”

“Well, it was still an impressive trick,” Daerick said. “Can you tell a difference between Nero’s magic and the Order’s? Anything at all? Even the slightest distinction?”

“No, it all tastes the same to me.”

“The Mortara dynasty has always commanded the priests. I wonder what would happen if Kian gave Nero a direct order…” Daerick trailed off at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Nero came running back into camp, clutching two dead jackrabbits by their long, mulish ears. He closed the spring and motioned for them to hide behind the curtain. “Hurry,” he said. “We’ll skin the rabbits inside.”

While he cleaned his kills, Cerise and Daerick built a fire from dung pellets Nero had packed in his bag. Under the light of the moon, they roasted both jackrabbits on charred, wooden spits. Nero tossed the entrails and pelts into the fire, remarking that he hated to waste a good pair of hides but he didn’t have time to tan them.

“Can’t you use magic to do it?” Daerick asked with one cheek stuffed full.

Nero paused to pick his front teeth. “I could. But I would rather save my energy for more important things.” He pointed at the curtain. “Like this.”

Cerise felt a charge thicken the air and tasted the familiar tang of metal, but she didn’t notice that anything had changed. She peered around while she fed Blue a bite from her meal. “What did you do?”

“I cast a charm on the fabric.” Nero sat a little taller, clearly pleased with himself. “No creature on the outside can see or smell us. The curtain will look like a wall of stone to them.”

“What about from above?” Daerick glanced at the night sky, where the eyes of a million stars winked down at them. “The harpy vulture hunts at night, too.”

“True,” Nero agreed. He nodded at Blue. “Better keep him close. Even ugly pups make tasty snacks.”

Cerise shot him a dirty look.

She gathered Blue onto her lap while they finished eating. She found that the jackrabbit didn’t agree with her. Each bite felt like lead in her stomach, so she fed the rest to Blue, who happily gobbled it up and licked her hands clean.

After the fire died out and the night air puckered their skin with chills, the group curled up on the ground, which was still warm from the heat of day, and tried to sleep.

Tried .

A saddlebag was no substitute for a pillow, and the hard, dry soil didn’t feel good to a body that had spent twelve hours in the saddle. Then there were the noises from outside the curtain—scratches and clicks, guttural growls, shrieks of pain cut short. Cerise kept glancing at the sky, expecting to find a deer-sized vulture circling the camp. She gathered Blue closer, and for good measure, she pulled the sling over his entire body and face so that only his tiny nose peeked out.

Only then was she able to relax.

Her dreams took her back to the Solon temple, where the Reverend Mother was standing alone in the courtyard, her gilded robes ruffling in the breeze as she warmed her hands in front of a blazing fire. When Cerise peered deep into the flames, she could see flickers of the goddess looking back at her, smiling with the merciful side of her face. Cerise clutched her heart in amazement, but before she could bow to the goddess, a robed priest appeared in the courtyard. The priest’s face was vague, easily forgotten. No matter how hard Cerise stared at the man, she couldn’t hold his image in her mind.

The priest held both palms toward the fire, but it was clear that he didn’t intend to warm himself. He meant to extinguish it. The Reverend Mother asked him to stop. She told him that her sisters needed the fire’s warmth, but he refused to listen to her. He summoned a rush of water and doused the flames, leaving the Reverend Mother shivering and hugging herself to stave off the cold.

The Reverend Mother glanced at Cerise as if noticing her for the first time. “Do you See what he has done, Cerise?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she answered.

“He will be sorry.” The Reverend Mother spoke in a voice as hard as steel. “The flame he seeks to dampen will consume him, Cerise.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she repeated.

“Cerise.”

Her shoulders shook.

“Cerise!”

Gasping, she awoke to find Daerick jostling her shoulder while Nero chased Blue, who had wriggled out from beneath her arm and was running in circles with his head raised to the moon, howling awooooo in his high-pitched puppy voice. Nero was hissing furious curses, but Cerise didn’t understand what was wrong.

Then something howled back at Blue.

An icy finger traced her spine. The animal howled again, closer now. It was a haunting noise—not the smooth, graceful baying of a hound or a wolf but an off-key distortion that reminded her of a warped bell.

Blue ran under the horses, where Nero couldn’t reach him. “Shut him up,” Nero growled. “Or I will.”

“Blue,” she called frantically, slapping the spot next to her on the ground. When he only peered back at her, she felt her heart seize, and she commanded, “You come here right now, Blue Solon!”

He whined and padded over to her, hanging his head like a scolded child.

She snatched him up and muzzled his snout, but the eerie howling continued. Each cry caused Blue to squirm and whine in her arms. Soon other howls joined the first, louder and growing closer. At times, Blue burrowed his face into the crook of her arm, but then he would go back to wriggling and trying to escape. What was he thinking ?

Nero glared at Blue. “If you don’t keep that mongrel quiet, I’ll—”

A loud snuffling interrupted him, like the snorting of a bull, coming directly from the other side of the curtain. There was another exhale, and the fabric billowed.

“Um.” Daerick swallowed. “You said the sheet looks like stone from the outside. Does it feel like stone, too?”

The answer came when a creature pawed at the fabric and four long, yellow, saber-like claws poked through it. Fear rose in Cerise’s chest. Whatever was on the other side of that curtain knew the fabric wasn’t made of stone. The horses whinnied, stamping at the ground. They couldn’t see the threat, but they sensed it.

She clutched Blue to her chest while her breathing shuddered. She glanced at Nero. “You can kill that thing, right?”

His frozen expression didn’t fill her with confidence. Nothing required more energy than dispatching death—and that was for an ordinary creature, not a beast with claws longer than her whole hand.

Nero drew his blade and indicated for her to do the same. “I can shield us…” He didn’t say temporarily , but she heard it in his tone. “Be ready to fight. All creatures bleed, even monsters.”

“Monsters,” she repeated. Plural . “How many do you think—”

“I heard four,” Daerick said. “Four distinct howls.”

“Stand back-to-back,” Nero told them, then formed part of a circle. “I can shield us longer if we stay close.”

Cerise moved into position, numbly tucking Blue inside the sling. Her hands were sweaty and trembling. It took two tries to unsheathe her knife. “Mother Shiera, mistress of worlds,” she murmured under her breath. “Guide my hand and…and…” She wanted to finish the prayer for courage in the face of battle, but she couldn’t remember the words.

Then the curtain was torn completely away, and the camp spiraled into chaos.

Her mouth filled with the tang of magic as a static wall went up around them. Sweaty backs pressed against hers. Horses neighed in panic. Blue barked. And on the other side of the rippling shield stood a beast she couldn’t have conceived in her darkest nightmares.

Tall as a mule and covered in patches of mottled brown fur, the creature looked like it might have been a hyena once, before the mountain’s blight had taken root and curved its spine into a gnarled hunch. Its ears were pointed, its chest absurdly broad. Drool hung from the edges of its jaws, and as it bared its teeth, Cerise could see chunks of animal flesh in between them. But scariest of all were its eyes. Black and calculating, they spoke of an intelligence that set her hair on end. When those eyes narrowed on Blue, she understood why it had come.

“I think I know what sired Stella’s litter,” she said.

“Titan hyenas,” Daerick muttered behind her.

She glanced around and noticed three smaller beasts, one other male and two females. Blue shook his mouth free and barked at the pack, sending them into a frenzy. They scratched and snapped at the shield, howling in turn at Blue, who howled back and pawed at the sling.

“No, Blue,” she commanded, putting as much authority in her shaky voice as she could. “Stay.”

“Let him go,” Nero said. “It’s him they want, not us.”

Daerick huffed a nervous laugh. “That’s not celery between their teeth. I’m pretty sure they want us, too.”

“Not as badly as the pup. If he’s part of the pack, they won’t leave him.” Nero panted with the strain of maintaining the shield. “Let him go!” he shouted over the riot of growls and barking. “I can’t hold on forever. If you give them what they want, they might lose interest in us and run away!”

Cerise shook her head wildly. She had read about titan hyenas. “The alpha female will kill him as soon as she delivers the next litter. He’s not her pup.”

“I don’t care!” bellowed Nero. “His life isn’t more important than ours or the horses’. They are going to die if I can’t hold this—” He cut off in exhaustion, and for a sliver of a second, the static barrier faltered. In that instant, the smell of hot, rancid breath filled the circle. “Do it now!”

She clutched onto Blue in his sling, despite his wriggling, despite the advancing beasts, because she had made a promise to him. We’re a family now, Lord Blue Solon. And that’s forever . She’d just opened her mouth to tell Nero there had to be another way when the shield dropped again. She felt a tug at her neck, followed by a sudden lightness, as if a weight had been lifted.

Too late, she realized that Nero had cut the sling.

By the time she saw Blue on the ground, he had already bounded away to sniff the pack leader, who bent low and sniffed Blue in return. Then the great beast lifted Blue by the wrinkly scruff of his neck and turned to run.

Cerise didn’t remember leaving the circle, and she didn’t remember charging toward the hyena or dropping her knife along the way. But the next thing she knew, she was on top of his hunched back with both arms wrapped around his neck. As the beast roared and tried to buck her off, Blue dropped out of his mouth to the ground.

“Blue, run !” she yelled.

In the next moment, the hyena shook her off. She felt herself fly and then hit the ground with a sickening thump. When she opened her eyes, she was flat on her back, staring up at a set of open jaws.

The animal didn’t hesitate. He went for the kill.

The hyena tore at her throat. She screamed as something hot and wet dribbled down the sides of her neck. Uselessly, she shoved against the beast. Then she heard a yapping sound, and the hyena pulled back slightly—just enough for Cerise to turn her head and see Blue frantically attacking his sire’s leg.

“Blue, no!” she shrieked.

The beast shook him off and in the process gave her a glimpse of Daerick and Nero standing back-to-back, swinging their blades to fend off the rest of the pack. The alpha lunged at her again. Teeth clicked and slid against her flesh. It was then that she realized she felt no pain. The beast should have shredded her windpipe by now, but it kept gnawing at her as though she were covered in alloy.

The pendant between her breasts grew warm.

It was protecting her, just like Nina said it would.

Hope swelled within her. She glanced around for her knife and spotted it just beyond reach. She stretched her arm as far as she could and yelled, “Blue! Fetch!” He understood and finally listened this time, using his nose to push the handle within her grasp. As soon as her fingers curled around the grip, she drove the blade upward with all her strength.

The hyena yelped in pain. It was a horrible sensation, feeling the creature’s muscles and tendons grip the knife, but she jerked the blade free and drove it in again. Enraged, the hyena attacked her with twice the ferocity, biting her face, her scalp, her arms—anywhere he could reach. Her fingers were slick with blood, causing the knife to slip. When she picked it up again, she barely had enough strength and grip to pierce the animal’s hide. Her pendant was burning hot now. Its protection couldn’t possibly last much longer. Blue snapped his tiny jaws at the hyena, which, wild with fury, turned on his pup, growling and tensing his haunches.

Then the air turned thick with an energy so powerful that Cerise lost touch with her senses. The world fell away. She was on fire with the rush of magic, the raw force filling her veins. Her neck arched, and as she fought to regain focus, she noticed the hyena’s eyes roll back in his massive head. The beast crumpled halfway on top of her, dead. Three more heavy thuds told her the entire pack had fallen.

The wet lapping of Blue’s tongue on her cheek finally nudged her out of the haze. She dragged herself out from beneath the heavy corpse and pushed to her elbows to find the source of the magic that had saved them all. As if there was any doubt. Only one man could wield such power—the same man she hadn’t wanted to come to the mountain, though now she was infinitely grateful that he had.

Father Padron must have heard the howling and ridden ahead of the wagon, because he was alone. Sitting astride his horse, he was the picture of a storybook hero: fierce and triumphant with the moonlight shining in his hair. But when she peered more closely at him, she saw his skin was pale and his eyes glassy.

“Cerise,” he whispered. “Are you…”

“I’m all right,” she told him. “Thank you.”

He gave her a weak smile, and then his chin dipped, his shoulders rounded, and he slid sideways out of his saddle and onto the ground.