Nosficio shook his covered head, a smirk slithering onto his lips. “There’s no time for that now, Prince.”

The sky was overcast, a dull gray, but it was daylight. Nosficio adjusted his cloak and gloves, guaranteeing no skin was exposed to the sun’s weak rays. Ruenen couldn’t help but gawk at the boldness of this vampire.

“I’ll meet you two at the Dale.” Nosficio disappeared in a blur. The only indication of where he went were the gasps and staggers of servants in the courtyard that he’d swept past.

Ruenen and Marai were ushered through an archway by Avilyard and a unit of eight soldiers to the nearby stables. Ruenen hadn’t spent much time on horseback in his life. Horses were expensive, and he’d never had the money to purchase one. Now, as Prince, he apparently owned several. He struggled into the saddle and held the reins with unconvincing confidence. Marai, however, sat effortlessly erect on the back of a black mare, as if she’d grown up riding across the desert sands. Ruenen had the sneaking suspicion that she could do anything if she tried.

Marai and her many gifts.

“Where did you learn to ride?” he asked.

“Casamere,” she said with a shrug. During her time as a pirate.

As they clip-clopped down the winding cobblestone streets of Kellesar, people called his name from their windows. Children waved eagerly, as men and women bowed. Ruenen tried to smile and wave, but the knowledge of where he was going, what he was about to see, curdled the pride in his stomach.

 Once out of the city, Ruenen steadied his nerves by focusing on Marai’s wild hair. White blonde strands whipped around behind her as she galloped across the rolling highlands. Golden soldiers surrounded Ruenen on all sides, making it nearly impossible to speak with Marai. He wanted to know her thoughts about the creature and Nosficio, about leaving Keshel behind with the Witan alone. About traveling to Grelta. About what she thought Rayghast would do next. Her council was what he needed, not a room full of strangers.

But he kept it all inside.

The Dale was a scattered neighborhood in the valley that dipped low between two large craggy hills. A rock path wormed through, leading towards an open, recently-plowed field on the other side. A small thatched cottage stood alone, eerily devoid of life. Marai, Ruenen, and the soldiers slowed their horses to a canter as they approached the silent house.

Nosficio was already there at the door. “It’s not a pretty sight.”

The scent of blood and death assaulted Ruenen’s nose. Marai entered the doorway first and froze. Ruenen walked right into her back—she’d stopped so quickly—and nearly emptied his stomach out onto the floor as he surveyed the carnage.

Bits of torn flesh and blackened bone littered the room, along with shredded clothing. Flies swarmed what was left of the carcasses, the family, who had once lived here. Viscera darkened the walls, and in pools on the floor. Furniture had been upturned and scattered across the one-room cottage. Ruenen had never seen such a gruesome sight. Not even the mutilation of the Chongans had been as destructive as this.

“What kind of creature could do this?” he asked, barely able to form the words without gagging. His people had died here because of dark magic.

Nosficio prowled through the room, calmly taking in the surroundings. He was known across Astye for creating similar scenes of gore and brutality. The death didn’t appear to bother his stony exterior. He sniffed the air. His pupils dilated.

The blood. It was everywhere. It must have been so tempting for Nosficio not to kneel down and lick the floor. Ruenen realized then the restraint Nosficio truly had. Another vampire might have gone crazy in a house full of spilt blood, but Nosficio remained in control. Agitated and tense, yes, but he didn’t let the bloodlust, the hunger, consume him.

“I’ve never smelled anything like this before. It doesn’t smell of this world.” Nosficio’s nose crinkled at whatever else he smelled beyond the death.

“What do you mean?” Marai asked.

“I don’t know. Sulfur? Like the Underworld . . .”

As a creature who had lived a thousand years, for Nosficio to be so puzzled made a chill skitter down Ruenen’s neck. Had these creatures truly materialized from Rayghast’s dark magic?

Ruenen leaned over to Marai. “Are you okay?”

She’d gone incredibly white. Her fists clenched at her sides. “I’m used to carnage. I’m used to killing. But this is different. An innocent family . . .” She turned her face so Ruenen wouldn’t see how she shuddered.

He reached for her—

Screams from outside shook them all from their daze. Ruenen went rigid. That earlier chill froze his blood to ice at the sound of trained soldiers, grown men, so terrified.

It’s here.

Without hesitating, Ruenen, Marai, and Nosficio dashed out the door into a scene of carnage.

One soldier had already been torn in two. His body lay discarded in bloody heaps. A second was currently in the grasp of a massive creature Ruenen knew would haunt his nightmares forever.

It had the head of a canine, but it was scaled in black and brown, with twisted, sharp horns atop its head. Its body was twice the size of the largest man among them, muscular and broad, with a leathery chest surrounded by more scales and bizarre ochre markings and lines, like war paint. Its hands and feet ended in long, thick hawk-talons, able to shred a body in seconds, as it was currently doing to the second soldier. Those talons cut through golden armor like a knife through melting butter.

“Fucking Lirr above . . . what in the Unholy Underworld is that?” Ruenen stammered, mouth going dry.

The creature snarled as it bit off the head of the second soldier and chewed, spitting out the distorted gold helm. Avilyard and the remaining soldiers encircled the creature, but none of them made a move forward. A few trembled.

Ruenen scented Marai’s sparkling magic. She thrust out her hand, and a pulse coursed through the air. He’d witnessed Marai use this move multiple times before, but never against something so large. The creature stumbled backwards; its three green, slitted eyes snapped to Marai. Its mouth opened, revealing pieces of flesh and fabric stuck in its teeth.

Nosficio was the next to move. One moment he stood with Ruenen, then he appeared beside the beast, swiping his own sharp nails across its chest.

The creature roared and swatted at Nosficio, who dodged easily, but the vampire’s strike barely broke its thick hide. Nosficio tried again, but the creature’s skin was impenetrable. In a surprisingly human move, Nosficio punched the creature in the jaw. It barely faltered. Nosficio dodged another lumbering swipe.

Avilyard and his men pressed in. One shot an arrow that bounced off the beasts’ scaled back. Avilyard threw a spear that lodged loosely into its shoulder. They were only succeeding in angering the creature more. It roared again and reached for the nearest soldier.

“Stand back,” Marai shouted. The soldiers jumped out of the creature’s reach as Marai raised both her arms, fingers wide.

White hot streaks of light burst forth from her palms. Magic snaked around the creature as lightning lit up the Dale. Several soldiers fell to the ground, covering their heads. A soldier sobbed out a desperate prayer. Ruenen shielded his eyes, hearing the creature bellow into the sky, a harsh language he’d never heard before. Speaking, crying out, as if it was a sentient being.

Through the slimmest opening, Ruenen glimpsed the magic surrounding Marai; magnificent, lethal, more powerful than before. She didn’t look fae or human in that moment, surrounded by a white electric halo. This was the power of a goddess. Ruenen’s skin tingled, heart raced. It wasn’t from fear. It was her. Marai caused his adrenaline to spike, the blood to rush to his head, the heat to flush into every pore.

When the magic subsided, Ruenen blinked the white specks from his eyes. The usual smell of Marai’s magic was overpowered by the scent of charred flesh.

The creature was a pile of ash on the ground.

A terrified soldier pointed his quivering finger at Marai. “She’s . . . she’s . . .”

“On your side,” Marai said, lowering her arms.

Nosficio stared at Marai with something akin to delight. His eyes glimmered again, and his lips reared back into a grin. He leaned over to Marai’s ear and said, “You were holding out on me. I can’t wait to learn what else you can do.”

Marai bristled and stepped away from him. Ruenen let out the breath he’d been holding for what felt like hours. The headache he’d had in the Witan chamber now pounded against his skull. The scent of dead bodies and monster lingered in the air, making him gag again. The elation he’d experienced from watching Marai was gone.

Avilyard approached the pile of ash, removing his helmet and running a hand through his hair. He lifted his gaze to Marai. “Your magic . . . it’s the one thing that worked to pierce those scales.” His voice didn’t waver. His body didn’t shake. He regarded Marai, instead, with curiosity. “Are there more of these creatures?”

“Yes,” Nosficio said, appearing at Avilyard’s side.

That was when the commander flinched. “How many?”

“Dozens? Hundreds? Impossible to know. All across the Middle Kingdoms, darkness is spreading. More of them will continue to venture into your towns and cities.”

“But how do we stop them all?” pressed the commander.

“Alert your soldiers to be on the lookout for them,” Ruenen said to Avilyard and the others. “Make sure gates and walls across Nevandia are manned at all times.”