The Queen of Wolves Read Online Free PDF Page B

SCAPE FROM W AR

    1

    I watched the skies when I escaped Nezahual’s besieged kingdom for a sign of the new moon’s birth—for it was the solstice that had become my target, the bomb lobbed at me by those who understood the Veil and its fragile nature during the shortest night of the year. These ancient sorceries were rumors to me, for I did not understand the importance of the season, nor of the solstice night. Though I had been claimed Maz-Sherah by the Priest of Blood called Merod, I did not feel as if I were anything more than a tool in the hands of some larger force.

    2

    When Pythia and I left Aztlanteum, on a continent far from my homeland, the moon no longer reigned over the black of night.
    We had fled another war in an obsidian city when the vampyre king Nezahual was besieged by his brothers and sister in a battle for supremacy, for the blessing of their mother, Ixtar, and for the lands that had once been divided among them. Jealousy and envy divides all families, mortal and immortal, and the want of power—and the ignorance of its corruption—destroys many kingdoms.
    The city of Ixtar burned and raged, and, below us, vampyres fought in the air, tearing at each other like wolves, while fires consumed the walls of their temples and palaces, while priests fought against invaders, and mortal men died for their gods. The cries of mortal and vampyre alike seemed to ride with us as we moved beyond its territories.
    In the stream, we knew that someone pursued us through that blinding darkness.
    Within an hour of our escape, I glanced back, briefly, and spied a gray shape in the whirling black smoke.

    3

    I was still weak, and did not think I could fight any of the vampyre guards who had trailed us from the burning city. I knew why this guard had followed us—it was not merely our escape, it was that fist-sized orb of black stone that Pythia had tied in a pouch around her throat as we flew.
    She had stolen the sacred relic, and I had no doubt that this had awakened Nezahual’s ire, even as his city perished. Perhaps it held some secret power that only he could access, or perhaps it was simply that it belonged to Ixtar herself, and Nezahual’s existence depended upon its return.
    At first I thought it was one unseen vampyre who followed, and then I felt many coming for us, but at a great distance. The stream felt strange to me, alive and yet confusing, and this follower seemed a disruptive influence. Perhaps, I thought, I only sensed those vampyres fighting many leagues away, amidst fire and smoke.
    Below us, the smoke met a haze of mist out upon the sea. I was not going to be able to fight the pursuer off in midair, and Pythia was now mortal—she would easily be captured by a vampyre. I felt our only hope to deflect any pursuing guardians of Ixtar was to throw them the orb.
    I flew toward Pythia and reached for the strap at her throat.
    She hissed like a snake, her fangs bared toward me. The strokes of her wings increased, and she shot ahead.
    If my sense of the stream was correct, I could not outfly the guard who followed. I turned in midair to face him, remaining motionless in the sky, my wings spread apart as if to glide downward.
    “Show yourself!” I shouted. I glanced down toward the ragged land as it dipped several miles ahead to the sea. The thick smoke blinded my view.
    I was sure I saw a movement in the clouds of gray and black, yet no one came forward from them.
    I waited another few seconds—still feeling something in the stream—just a vibration there. If one of Nezahual’s brethren had been hiding in the ash-clouds, he easily could have leapt out and subdued me—though I would give him a fight he might not forget.
    Finally, I turned again toward Pythia, who had almost reached the edge of Nezahual’s lands, a mile or more ahead. I flew along, catching up to her, but I could not shake the feeling that some vampyre stalked us.
    The smoke of the burning kingdom swept across the sky, and held back