crashing waves and the roar of enormous beasts.
They were still in Blacksand, or at least close to it. The Revenger ’ s camp was larger than she’d thought it would be. Three warships formed a loose perimeter around a Sherman tank and a pair of war wagons. A group of black-skinned Ebonbacks grazed in the sandy slopes to the east.
They were half- a- mile outside the crude city gates, at the edge of an expanse of pale sand s dunes and granite hills littered with towers of salt. Palm trees swayed in the bitter ocean breeze. The sun hid behind a thin veil of crystal clouds, and the air was startlingly cold. Dirigibles and gargoyles filled the sky over Blacksand.
They could take the city over if they wanted to. She imagined t hey had some need to leave the criminal port alone, if even because it would have been an inefficient use of resources to take it. The Revengers were nothing if not frugal with their hard-earned cash.
The rusted iron disposal bin they’d stuck Danica in was at the edge of t he Revenger camp. She couldn’t imagine where all of the bodies had come from.
“Prisoners,” a voice said from behind her. The voice was heavy with a British accent. “Your friend, Klos Vago, had a large number of slaves he’d proved incapable of selling, so he handed them over to us.”
The man was tall and lean and had thick brown hair. Easily six-foot-three, the imposing Warden wore dark armor that tightly hugged his muscular frame, and he appeared unarmed, which Danica knew, of course, wasn’t the case.
“Burke,” she said. “I’m surprised they let you out of your hole.” She looked back at the bodies. “So why kill them? No room in the mines these days?”
“They served their purpose,” Burke smiled. “How’ve you been, Dani?”
“Better.”
“I can see that. Nasty blow to the head you took there…”
“Cut the shit. What do you want with me?”
Burke just smiled.
“Come on, Dani. What do you think?”
Burke nodded at the skeletons, and they lifted her up off the ground. Her arms felt like they’d crack within their iron grip, and h er shoulders felt ready to come out of the ir sockets.
“Ouch! Damn it, Burke!”
“Shut up, Dani. All right? There’s a good girl.”
They led her down the slope and into the center of camp. Men wandered about, shaving themselves or eating from tin cans, cleaning weapons or throwing knives at crude targets. Boxes of ammunition and equipment were kept under careful watch inside of white tents. A dozen men lined up at a long table covered with bowls and a cauldron of steaming soup.
They all looked at her as she was marched by. Some seemed to recognize her, others didn’t. They all regarded her with the same cold contempt.
The skeletons took her straight to one of the war wagons, u gly and brutish devices made of black steel and arcane iron. T urbine engines on t he backs of the vehicles c ould propel them rapidly across the ground, and anti- personnel mines, motorguns and flak cannons lent them considerable firepower.
A dark-skinned woman waited near one of the wagons. She had braided hair and form-fitting black and purple armor, a pair of katanas strapped across her back, and runic tattoos that covered her cheeks, neck and bone-thin arms. T he woman smiled as the golems brought Danica close to her.
“Danica Black,” Burke said with a smile. “This is Raven Darkmoon. Your replacement in our ranks.”
“Charmed,” Danica smiled.
“Likewise,” Raven said. Her smile was broad and skeletal, and her voice was deep and smooth.
“Right,” Burke said. “Listen, Dani, I’d rather not beat around the proverbial bush, so tell us…where is your friend Cross?”
Danica looked at him. An Ebonback roared in the distance.
“ Eat shit, ” Danica replied.
Raven nonchalantly drew a blade and sliced Danica’s fore arm open. The s harp pain made her cry out. Blood poured from the wound. She winced and tried to twist away, but the golems held her tight. Her feet barely touched the ground.
“Bitch!” she shouted.
Raven just smiled.
“That was a love touch,” Raven said seductively. “I know a lot of games we can play…”
“I’ll bet you do,” Black said. “What do you want with Cross?” she said to Burke.
“That’s not your concern,” Burke said. “What is your concern is what will happ en if you don’t cooperate.”
Raven smiled, and then whistled. Two Revengers in dark armor brought a gagged and struggling prisoner around the corner of the nearest wagon.
Black’s heart jumped into her throat. She couldn’t believe it. It had been over two years since she’d seen her.
“La ra!”
Cole looked at her through dark and mottled hair. Her face was badly bruised, and h er ranger’s armor was torn and bloodied.
“Now,” Burke said. “As I was saying… where is Cross? ”
Raven’s eyes glowed with delight. Cole started to cry.
Black couldn’t stop shaking. She’d never been so afraid.
SEVEN
The black lands batter him with coal rain. H ills like scars loom on the uncertain horizon. The air is a blood haze, and t he ground is brittle and dry. Cracks in the earth hold pools of stagnant water. V oices linger in the black wind.
T he city is behind him. He ’ s left t he Eidolos alone with its painful desire s to be free. Now h e stumbles across a stygian world filled with frozen ash.
Something in the sky seems to follow him, a vague shadow like an obtuse hawk. Distant shapes fold and distort, clouds twisted into dark faces.
He moves with purpose. He searches for the entrance to the Shadow Lord’s territory.
I can escape this place, he thinks, but the thoughts don’t come easy to him. His blade gives him the strength to retain a sense of his own identity in this shadow-drenched world. W ithout it he would be a formless shade, another refugee of th e perpetually eclipsed landscape. I can be free.
We can be more. The Eidolos’ words ring in his mind.
The land slopes up. He is suddenly close to the trees, which are sharp and twisted like handfuls of blades. Dark fumes fill t he air. T he roar s of beasts echo from deep within the black forest.
The constant blood sun dips lower, obscured by phantom clouds.
He ’ s never walked near these woods before. Somehow, in spite of years spent exploring the Whisperlands, he ’ s never witnessed this forest, not until the Eidolos directed him to it.
T he dread wind carries leaves that crackle like bones. Every step he takes kicks up ecologies of shadow insects. Pitiless moans ooze from the dark.
Vaguely humanoid c reatures twist and slither like half-melted serpents at the edge of his vision. L oose stone s and twigs roll down the hill as he ascends.
Distant storm clouds boil and churn with electric light. Thunder echoes through the tin sky.
His body groans with tension. He feels eyes on in him in the dark, the gaze of cold and hungry shadows.
N atives stand at the edge of the forest. They look out over the path that leads to the heart of the grim woods.
