hunted beneath the City of the Dead, these Immortals burned with vibrant life that screamed superiority even in perfect silence.
Neither could she deny her hatred. Hadn’t they spit on Jonathan’s grave in choosing that very life? And yet, if she succeeded, she would save the very lives of those she hated.
For Jonathan and the sake of his legacy.
The lead rider stopped halfway into the canyon, the other threetwo horse lengths behind. She knew they did not study their surroundings as much as
know
them. Perhaps she was giving them too much credit. They would bleed as easily as she.
Kaya crept up beside her. Jordin pressed a hand to her arm, demanding absolute silence. Kaya laid her cheek on the ground but then eased her head up to see.
The riders started forward again at a slow walk. One of the horses snorted softly. They heard a gentle clucking sound as its rider calmed his mount and then the muted plodding of horse hooves along the canyon floor.
The Immortals would assume they had nothing to fear. They were in pursuit of a Sovereign who possessed none of their expanded senses, and a wounded one at that, caught in the wastelands where all Sovereigns feared to tread. Any conflict here would be welcomed by the Immortals as sport.
They didn’t stop until they’d reached the entrance to the fissure. For a long stretch they sat mounted in silence. When they spoke it was with few words, which Jordin couldn’t make out. She kept her head down and begged the Maker to push just one Immortal inside the trap.
Finally the one to the right of the leader nudged his horse, guiding it into the fissure. He silently slipped his sword from its scabbard and rode deeper into the narrow passage.
From where she lay, Jordin could take him with a single arrow, but doing so would only defeat her purpose. If she took one out, the others would come after her and then return for the body of their fallen comrade. They never left their dead, and she needed the body.
Only when the rider was directly below them did Jordin ease back, roll to her left, and place her palms on the rock they’d set to trigger the landslide. With a final glance at Kaya, whose eyes were wide in the dark, she gave the boulder a shove.
It tipped, hung in precarious balance for a moment, and then lazily rolled over the edge. The sound of tumbling rock broke thestillness as the boulders careened down the wall, taking others with them. With a rocky clatter punctuated by loud
thumps
, they crashed down into the passage and landed in a thundering crescendo that echoed through the canyon.
Behind the sound, a cry of alarm—a whinnying horse cut short as rocks crushed rider and mount.
The trap had been sprung, but it was only the beginning. In an instant, the three remaining Immortals would realize that they’d been led into a trap.
“Hurry!” Jordin whispered.
She rolled away from the edge, came up in a crouch, grabbed her pack, and ran north along the cliff top, keeping away from the Immortals’ line of sight below. They had to execute the escape with precision—one misstep and they would be caught.
Jordin had sprinkled the blood leading directly east, away from the canyon and toward the city for a good two miles, knowing that pursuing Immortals would follow the heady scent. She just didn’t know if they’d turn back when the scent weakened or conclude that their prey’s wound had dried and continue the hunt.
Jordin led Kaya north, a hundred meters to the end of the passage, slinging her bow and the knapsack over her back. She dropped onto a small ledge, then she reached back to help Kaya down. For the moment they were safe, out of sight.
Hooves pounded in the distance. They were in pursuit, making their way out of the canyon to the top of the cliffs for a quick kill before returning to their fallen comrade. It’s what she would do.
It took them only two minutes to scale down the steep slope they had descended twice in rehearsal, dropping onto the sand at
Neither could she deny her hatred. Hadn’t they spit on Jonathan’s grave in choosing that very life? And yet, if she succeeded, she would save the very lives of those she hated.
For Jonathan and the sake of his legacy.
The lead rider stopped halfway into the canyon, the other threetwo horse lengths behind. She knew they did not study their surroundings as much as
know
them. Perhaps she was giving them too much credit. They would bleed as easily as she.
Kaya crept up beside her. Jordin pressed a hand to her arm, demanding absolute silence. Kaya laid her cheek on the ground but then eased her head up to see.
The riders started forward again at a slow walk. One of the horses snorted softly. They heard a gentle clucking sound as its rider calmed his mount and then the muted plodding of horse hooves along the canyon floor.
The Immortals would assume they had nothing to fear. They were in pursuit of a Sovereign who possessed none of their expanded senses, and a wounded one at that, caught in the wastelands where all Sovereigns feared to tread. Any conflict here would be welcomed by the Immortals as sport.
They didn’t stop until they’d reached the entrance to the fissure. For a long stretch they sat mounted in silence. When they spoke it was with few words, which Jordin couldn’t make out. She kept her head down and begged the Maker to push just one Immortal inside the trap.
Finally the one to the right of the leader nudged his horse, guiding it into the fissure. He silently slipped his sword from its scabbard and rode deeper into the narrow passage.
From where she lay, Jordin could take him with a single arrow, but doing so would only defeat her purpose. If she took one out, the others would come after her and then return for the body of their fallen comrade. They never left their dead, and she needed the body.
Only when the rider was directly below them did Jordin ease back, roll to her left, and place her palms on the rock they’d set to trigger the landslide. With a final glance at Kaya, whose eyes were wide in the dark, she gave the boulder a shove.
It tipped, hung in precarious balance for a moment, and then lazily rolled over the edge. The sound of tumbling rock broke thestillness as the boulders careened down the wall, taking others with them. With a rocky clatter punctuated by loud
thumps
, they crashed down into the passage and landed in a thundering crescendo that echoed through the canyon.
Behind the sound, a cry of alarm—a whinnying horse cut short as rocks crushed rider and mount.
The trap had been sprung, but it was only the beginning. In an instant, the three remaining Immortals would realize that they’d been led into a trap.
“Hurry!” Jordin whispered.
She rolled away from the edge, came up in a crouch, grabbed her pack, and ran north along the cliff top, keeping away from the Immortals’ line of sight below. They had to execute the escape with precision—one misstep and they would be caught.
Jordin had sprinkled the blood leading directly east, away from the canyon and toward the city for a good two miles, knowing that pursuing Immortals would follow the heady scent. She just didn’t know if they’d turn back when the scent weakened or conclude that their prey’s wound had dried and continue the hunt.
Jordin led Kaya north, a hundred meters to the end of the passage, slinging her bow and the knapsack over her back. She dropped onto a small ledge, then she reached back to help Kaya down. For the moment they were safe, out of sight.
Hooves pounded in the distance. They were in pursuit, making their way out of the canyon to the top of the cliffs for a quick kill before returning to their fallen comrade. It’s what she would do.
It took them only two minutes to scale down the steep slope they had descended twice in rehearsal, dropping onto the sand at
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