Shadowbane

He drew his daggers.

How dare they.

How dare they, the three with their treading feet. Every tremble on the stone, we heard them-every breath we sensed. Did they think we would not?

Shadowbane comes.

We skitter in the deep shadows of the world. We lurk beneath the skin. We are the madness over which the world stretches. Murmur warns us, but we do not listen. We are angry. We hunger.

They are enemy. They are anathema.

Shadowbane. He is here. He exists.

They come to slay us. They three. They few. They alone.

But we are many. We are thousands. We are together-forever.

They will feed us.

Feed.

FEED!

CHAPTER THIRTY

7 FLAMERULE (NIGHT)

In that moment-just before Scour burst like a raging hurricane through the tunnel and they began fighting for their lives-everything became clear to Kalen. Seeing the sword-knowing how he had failed Rhett, just like he had failed Vaelis-had undone him. His desperate patina of control was swept away in a flow of anger such as he had not known since his days as a thief on the streets of Luskan. Anger at being scarred and doomed. Anger at letting folk he cared about die. Anger at being fooled. Anger at being hopelessly outmatched.

Now, with Myrin’s kiss, all that anger collected into one hot point and became purpose. This creature was going to fall. He swore it.

As if in response, power filled him-power such as he had never known. Myrin’s kiss lingering on his lips, he drew his daggers and ran toward the oncoming death.

With the crashing roar of a thousand voices, Scour flowed up the tunnel and into the dimly lit demon temple. It shattered open a withered door like a fleck of driftwood. The braces of the portal cracked then splinted with the force of its passage. Thousands upon thousands of nightmare beasts came at them. They only vaguely resembled what they had once been-spiders, locusts, gnashing beetles, scorpions, rats, and all things that crept through the shadows and stung or bit in the dark. They had swelled to ten times the size of their mortal kin, sprouted dozens of limbs and stingers, and burned red and black like the demon that drove them. This horrifying army surged forth, laying waste to everything in its path.

Every one of its voices screamed a single word: “FEED!”

Kalen screamed right back, a sound without words.

Blazing with divine fire, Kalen leaped before the first ones could touch him, kicked off the wall, and came down in an explosion of holy force that sent the creatures sailing in every direction. It broke the wave of the swarm like an exploding stone thrown into the water.

Before more could take their place, he sprang again, his boots sparking with magic, and somersaulted free of the swarm. Two demonbeasts flew after him, their stingers flailing. He slashed one out of the air and kicked the second back as he twisted down to land on his feet.

Sithe covered his retreat. She spun her axe and whirled forth a halo of flame that sent destruction scything through the swarm. Any of the beasts that dared to bite at her, claw at her, or even approach her were consumed in her reaving flame. Not, of course, that the swarm could avoid her-more creatures kept flowing from below, pushing their brethren into the flames.

The swarm kept coming.

Kalen landed beside Sithe and immediately lashed out with his knives, cutting down a spider that leaped at the genasi as she lashed at six of its fellows. Blood spattered them, but it was demon blood, not his or Sithe’s.

“Myrin!” Kalen shouted. “Spells!”

Brilliant light flashed, as of the rising sun. A cloud of spiraling, glittering sparks showered among the swarm, sending hundreds of creatures shrieking wildly into burning oblivion. Those who survived turned on their fellows dazedly, scrabbling at one another with fang and claw.

The creatures gushed from the tunnel, filling the chamber with gnashing, roaring bodies. The pestilence flowed around Sithe, even as she lashed out at it. She stood among an enormous circle of dead, growling in challenge.

The swarm kept coming.

“Fight on!” Kalen cut a demon spider down with a swipe of his blades.

“Down!” came a cry.

Sithe thrust out an arm and hauled Kalen to the floor, just as a scything blade of flame shot over them and tore into the horde. Creatures died by the scores as the fire slashed through them, then bounced off the far wall with a roaring clang and spun another rending path through Scour. Kalen saw it spinning toward them and kicked Sithe aside just as it cut through where they had lain together.

“Gods!” Kalen shouted to Myrin. “Look where you aim-” He trailed off. “Gods.”

Myrin hadn’t been hesitating in those first moments. Rather, she’d spent that time layering spells on herself. Now she floated a hand’s length off the ground, blue flame flowing around her rune-covered limbs. Bolts of magical force flashed from her seemingly without direction to strike at lunging beasts. Her hands worked independently, sending blasts of thunder or flame to strike as many as possibly at once. With every spell she cast, a new blue rune appeared on her skin. Her orb floated on its own in front of her face-the cloud within had erupted into a great storm.

He was able to steal only a glance at Myrin before he was slashing and thrusting and stomping with all the force he could muster.

“Do you see it?” Sithe asked as she cut a swath through the horde with a burst of dark force. “Do you see what I have seen in her?”

Kalen let a smile slip across his mouth. “I think I always did,” he said.

The swarm squealed in anger and-Kalen thought-fear. It withdrew, leaving them hacking already wounded stragglers, or else at the empty air. The swarm dispersed into a hundred smaller packs of creatures and backed up against the walls, as though considering whether to press the attack.

“So it fears,” Sithe said.

“If it fears,” Kalen said, “then it can die.”

The swarm drew in on itself, the composite creatures scrambling on one another and climbing onto the wall. Some clung to the ceiling, folding their wings on themselves; others spread acid-bedewed wings as though testing them for the first time. Stingers and claws clicked and made ready.

“What is it doing?” Myrin called from the center of her magical storm.

“Down!” Kalen shouted.

The swarm burst toward them like a great hammering hand. Kalen threw himself wide enough that it struck him only a glancing blow. Still, it sent him flying. Sithe was not so fortunate. The fist of Scour struck the genasi full force, burying her under a thousand biting, tearing creatures. He heard her screaming, a sound that filled him with dread.

“Sithe!” Myrin unleashed flame in a vast arc like dragon’s breath. Hundreds died, but the swarm as a whole merely turned its attention on her. An arm of creatures swept her aside like a doll. Only her shield of fire kept them from devouring her in that instant.

With a roar of helpless anger, Kalen rolled away from the swarm, but a huge crimson spider-thing lunged on him like a pouncing cat. Mandibles clicked at his face, tearing his cheek, and he buried one of his daggers in the