Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II, Hodges, Aaron [top 10 non fiction books of all time txt] 📗

the mist, seeking the source. An orange light flickered into life and the breath caught in her throat. Another ship was drifting somewhere out on the river.

Fortunately they had kept to the northern shore. The hunters loomed farther out in the currents, though as Erika watched, the light from their ship seemed to grow. She looked back as their boat shifted direction. Her silent companion had her hands on the tiller, directing them towards the shore. There was a thud as the bow pressed up onto the mud, barely audible over the whispers of the breeze.

Erika held her breath, eyes on the glow of their pursuers. It continued to grow closer. Silently, she tightened her fist, preparing to summon the power. Then she hesitated, glancing at the gauntlet, wondering. She had come to rely on its magic since finding it in that hidden chamber, come to thrill in its power.

Erika’s heart thundered in her ears as she looked on her metallic fist. She had made so many mistakes these past weeks, had hurt so many people. Shouldn’t she care? A tremor shook her as she recalled the creatures they had encountered in the caverns beneath the earth, driven mad by the magic they had stolen. Could the same be happening to her?

The gauntlet drew on her own energies—she had discovered as much on the banks of the Illmoor, when its exertion had all but drained away her life force. But she would have known if it was changing her, if it was making her like…those things in the dark. Wouldn’t she?

Releasing a breath Erika hadn’t realised she’d been holding, she unclenched her fist, allowing the light to die. What was she thinking, anyway? The gauntlet’s magic was only useful in close quarters. Her hunters would know that—their archers would pepper her with arrows long before they came close enough for Erika to use the power.

“Make sure the girl is quiet.”

Erika frowned as the spy’s words drew her back to the present. Her companion never addressed Cara as a God. It seemed blasphemous, though of course, the Gemaho were not known to be a Godly people. Still, with the wings just…hanging there, Erika would have thought they’d be enough to convert the most studious of disbelievers.

Even so, she shifted closer to Cara and made sure her gag was firmly in place. The Goddess squawked in protest, but the cloth muffled the sound and it was easily lost in the lapping of water against the hull. Turning back to the spy, Erika nodded that their…passenger was secure…

…and noticed the light still growing brighter in the mist beyond their white sail. Her heart thudded painfully against her chest and instinctively she clutched a hand to Cara’s shoulder, pressing gently. Erika’s own strength could never harm the Goddess, but with her gauntleted fist, the threat was clear and Cara ceased to struggle.

At the rear of the boat, her companion cursed softy and reached into a pack. Erika expected the spy to draw out a weapon, but instead her hand emerged with a smooth sphere of glass. Silently, the woman held up the object, a frown wrinkling the plain features of her face.

Erika’s gaze was drawn to the sphere as it began to glow. A cry started in her throat—the light would give them away—but immediately the glow faded, becoming muted, the orb itself fuzzy and indistinct. Abruptly, it vanished—and the woman’s hand with it, as though they had been drawn into some other dimension. The spy did not react, only raised a finger to her lips as the effect expanded outwards, swallowing her arm, then the woman herself entirely.

Clutching at the Goddess lying alongside her, Erika fought not to scream as the strange magic crept across the boat towards them. Within seconds, half the boat had been consumed, until finally she could take it no longer. Stifling a cry, Erika scrambled up, preparing to throw herself over the side before the magic claimed her as well.

“Don’t move,” a voice hissed from the emptiness where the spy had crouched a moment earlier.

Erika’s mouth fell open and she froze. The magic reached her before she could recover from the confusion, and she watched in horrified fascination as it swallowed her leg. Beside her, Cara blinked out, even as the power continued up her waist, her chest, her throat. Silently she sucked in a breath, as though that might save her from being wiped from existence…

Darkness followed as the magic enclosed her, and for a moment Erika thought it was over, that the power had claimed her. Then the black fell away, and she found herself clinging again to the sides of the sailboat. Cara lay alongside her, while the spy sat nearby, finger still to her lips.

Erika’s racing heart began to subside. She looked around, seeking their pursuers, and found herself surrounded by a bubble of light. It was as though they had been encased in a snow globe, the plaything of some giant. The outside world could barely be seen through its glow. Surely their pursuers must see it?

But recalling again how the spy and boat had vanished before her eyes, Erika realised that the globe had simply rendered them invisible from without. Her gaze was drawn to the orb still clutched in the hands of her companion. Its crystal surface was aglow, seemingly a reflection of the magic that surrounded them. Somehow, this object concealed them.

They sat in silence, listening for the telltale whispers of their pursuers. Breathing deeply, Erika strained her ears for hint of their approach, for sign they had been spotted. The acrid scent of burning pitch carried to her nose and she caught the occasional whisper, of voices on the breeze, the squeak of boards beneath boots, waves lapping upon a wooden hull, but the hunters came no closer, and slowly even those soft noises faded away.

Silence returned to the night, and finally the Gemaho spy released her grip on the globe. Its light died away and the greater orb