Divine by Mistake by P.C. Cast Page B

guards. The blood of their early victims had dimmed the white of their skin. They were not creatures of nightmare—they were the nightmare. I could not make out any weapons in their hands, yet as the guards began battling them, their swords and shields did little good against the man-creatures’ bared teeth and claws. The sheer number and ferocity of them overwhelmed the castle guards. Many of the man-creatures had time to stop and feed at the necks and warm entrails of still-living men, as others stepped around them to resume the slaughter. The ripping and tearing of flesh is a sound like no other, and as I watched I felt my soul begin to shake.
    I had lost sight of Dad, and I tried to get my body to float closer to the battle. It wouldn’t obey me. And then there was no need—I saw him. Man-creatures surrounded him. Blood poured from open wounds that had been torn in his arms and chest, but his huge sword was still swinging in an arch around him. At his feet were two headless things, victims of his strength. The man-creatures circled him, being careful to stay out of the reach of his blade.
    “Come to me, ye bloody cowards!”
    His voice reached me, and I recognized the challenge it carried. I had only heard it once before. It was at football practice. Dad had benched the star linebacker because he’d been caught shoplifting at a local store. The smart-ass kid was telling Dad his behavior off the field didn’t matter, that he should still play because he was the best they had. Dad took him (and his ego) to the middle of the field, and while the team looked on as witness he said to the kid, “You can play tomorrow night if you can knock me off my feet.” The kid was almost six inches taller than Dad, more than thirty years younger, and outweighed him by at least forty pounds, but he couldn’t knock my father off his feet, and he damn sure didn’t play in another game that season.
    I heard the echo of that challenge in the man’s voice below me. His stance was the same, and his strength was the same. Again he was in the right, but this time I knew that wouldn’t matter. He had caught the attention of more of them. One by one the ring grew until at least twenty man-creatures, their wings taut, surrounded my father, their bloody mouths snarling in expectation.
    I’ll never forget how he stood there. He didn’t panic. He was calm and sure. As one being, they began to converge. I saw his sword flash and heard it slice through the first and second and third, until it could no longer keep up. Then their fangs and teeth reached him. He fought with his fists, which were slick with his own blood. Even as he dropped to his knees, he didn’t cry out.
    And he didn’t quit.
    But I could take no more. My soul felt like it was shattering with his body and I shrieked my agony to the night—
     
    And I was wrenched abruptly awake.
    “No! Dad, no!” My body was shaking and my cheeks were wet with tears.
    Alanna and ClanFintan burst through different doors into my room at almost the same instant.
    “My Lady! Oh, my Lady, what has happened?”
    Alanna rushed to me. Not caring that she wasn’t really Suzanna, I wrapped my arms around her and wept into her embrace.
    “It was horrible.” Around sobs my broken words came out. “They killed my father. There was nothing I could do but watch.”
    Alanna was making wordless, soothing noises as she stroked my back.
    “Is there danger? Shall I summon the guards?” ClanFintan’s voice was a warrior’s, and I had a sudden feeling that he would be courageous in battle, and like my dream premonition of evil, I knew this, too, was true.
    “No.” My sobs had begun to quiet to whimpers, but the tears still flowed freely down my face. “It happened in my dream, not here.”
    Abruptly I felt Alanna still. She gently moved my body back from hers far enough so that she could look into my eyes.
    “You must tell us what you saw, my Lady.” Her voice was calm, but I could hear the fear