Remembering his duty, Enoch dredged up a firm tone of command. He tried to keep his thoughts straight. “Who are you, truly? My father and family are long dead.”
“Yes we are, and so should you be,” young Alex said in an eerily mature voice.
“Come to us,” Camille said again.
“Now that you and all your soldiers awakened, the Keeper has tasted your souls. He knows what he has been missing,” Enoch’s father said. “He knows what has been stolen from him for all these years. You belong in the underworld. All of you. With us.”
Knowing his father’s stern voice, Enoch flinched at the scolding.
Aaron said, “You should have been here with us centuries ago. Now the Keeper wants you.”
All of them said in unison, “He wants you all.”
With a remarkable effort, Enoch broke his connection to them. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He forced himself to lurch away and stumble back onto the shore, where he collapsed. The clamor around him returned with a rush of uncontrolled sound. Staring up at the sky, he suddenly heard all the moans, the longing outcries from his soldiers. They were dying by the hundreds, sacrificing themselves to the lake, giving themselves to the Keeper.
“No!” Enoch dragged himself to his feet. His army was perishing before his eyes, countless ranks rushing into the lake. This was far worse than the meadow of poison flowers.
The rear divisions still arriving at the lake saw that something terrible was happening, but they didn’t understand. Enoch pushed into the main encampment, bellowing commands in the voice that General Utros had taught him. “Do not listen! Do not look into the water. Stay back!”
He knew the ranks at the shore were lost, so many bodies already bobbing facedown in the water. He wept as he turned his back on the desperate pleas of his beloved family, but he refused to take the easy way out. He yelled at the nearest lieutenant. “Rescue the ones you can, but do not approach the water!”
The frightened soldiers passed his instructions along, spreading the warning like wildfire. Enoch grappled with his own men, pulling as many as he could away from the shore. Those who came too close looked in horror at the countless floating corpses, yet they did not comprehend the danger.
Tears poured down Enoch’s battle-scarred face as he forced his army to skirt the lake and head directly toward the mountain pass. “Abandon camp! Keep riding! We cannot stop here.”
He mounted his horse and led them away from the trap at a full gallop. Tens of thousands of soldiers followed him in confusion and terror, pushing on into the cold mountains. Enoch felt his heart turn to stone again as he rode higher toward the pass, wondering whether his entire army was truly alive, or if all these soldiers had actually died long ago and just didn’t realize it yet.
CHAPTER 33
Weak from blood loss and utter exhaustion, Nicci fell into a sleep as deep as a coma. Mrra remained in the cool bedchamber, protecting her sister panther from danger. The big cat curled up beside her, and Nicci took comfort in the dense, soft fur, the powerful feline body.
The bloodthirsty zhiss were bottled up, dwindling and starving, and the Hidden People could at last reclaim their city and emerge into the sunlight again.
In the depths of her sleep, though, loud sounds reached her. Nicci awoke to turmoil inside the stone buildings. She sat bolt upright despite her lingering weariness. Mrra sprang to her feet and faced the splintered remnants of the door she had shredded with her claws in order to break free the night before. Nicci slid off the bed, her head throbbing with pain, her knees shaky. Thanks to hundreds of the biting zhiss, her pale skin was mottled with maroon blood blisters. She tried to shake off the fuzziness. “Come, Mrra. Let’s go see.”
With the cat loping along beside her, Nicci ran down the torchlit corridors toward the main entrance. The Hidden People were crowded at the high doorway, staring out into the daylight as if still fearful of the sun.
Crouching in the shadows, young Asha turned to her with an expression full of hope and desperation. “Nicci, we need your help!” When the girl clutched her arm, Nicci winced, feeling the bruises and bite wounds across her skin.
She felt intensely weary. “I already saved you. Have the zhiss escaped?”
A man nearby shook his head. “No, not the zhiss—an army! He’s come back!”
She was surprised and confused by the statement. “What army?”
“A thousand soldiers bearing the emblem of Emperor Kurgan! Cyrus said it was General Utros.” Asha hung her head. “He’s dead now.”
That made no sense. “General Utros is far away. Why would he come here?”
“This is his capital,” said another man, hiding in his gray robes. “He has two sorceresses with him. Cyrus and a dozen followers went out to greet him, but the sorceresses blasted them to bones and ashes.”
At this news, Nicci felt her strength return in a surge, though her ears still rang and her head throbbed. She worked her way past the drab people and stood in the towering doorway. “Two sorceresses?”
Out in the sunlight, she saw the glare reflected from countless shields, swords, chain mail, and armor plate. Hundreds of mounted troops filled the main plaza. Riding a black stallion, General Utros wore his distinctive horned helmet and golden mask. Beside him, dismounted, stood two bald women with designs painted on their skin.
Without hesitating, Nicci strode out into the bright sunlight to challenge them.
*
The stench of roasting flesh wafted into the air. Utros held the reins as he looked down at the gray-clad bodies his sorceresses had blasted. Now he needed new captives he could interrogate.
Ava looked downcast that she had disappointed her general. “Surely, they meant to attack.”
Ruva said, “Look in the shadows. Many more are lurking here. They infest your city, what is left of it. We must eradicate them.”
Fine swords were clutched in the blackened skeletal hands of the strange victims. Utros wondered if the furtive, gray-clad men were the remnants of some lost army left behind in the ruins. Wary now, he looked around at t
he great towers, the carved monoliths that depicted the exaggerated glories of Iron Fang. The city seemed more ominous now that the sorceresses had destroyed the first attackers—or were they merely emissaries? Curiosity seekers? They shouldn’t have been killed so quickly.
He shouted out to the shadows. “I am General Utros, and I have returned to Orogang. If your emperor is not worthy, then I will be your new ruler.”
His words were loud enough to startle pigeons from the high eaves. His soldiers flooded into the plaza, lining up their horses in ranks. He heard the jingle of tack, the rustle of leather armor, the sliding musical note of swords being drawn from scabbards as they waited in the ominous silence.
“Show yourselves!” Ava cried. “Bow down before General Utros.”
Ruva muttered, “Like beetles hiding inside a rotted log.” In disgust, she looked at the blackened corpses on the flagstones in front of them. “We will eradicate them all so we can take back your city.”
Since the pale figures seemed frightened of simple daylight, Utros decided they must be mere scavengers, human leftovers who did not belong in this glorious capital. Utros turned to his troops. “Break into companies and move through the major buildings. Sweep them clean. Round up those people. We will interrogate them.”
He faced the still-imposing palace that had been Iron Fang’s seat of power. He remembered the towers that stretched toward the heavens, the supporting buttresses, the arched windows that were now all bricked up.
The main palace entrance was open, though, and figures huddled inside. They must have seen Ava and Ruva blast the first group of emissaries, and he planned to strike greater fear in their hearts. He would ride his black stallion through the gates and directly into the grand throne room like a conquering hero.
Then one person strode boldly into the daylight, carrying herself with pride. Unlike the tattered gray rags that covered the others, this woman wore a black dress that clung to her shapely form. Her blond hair was raggedly cropped, and her piercing blue eyes stared at him as if his soldiers and sorceresses simply weren’t there. She had eyes for him, and him alone.
