The Deathsinger: Book 2

Ch. 33: The Sentinels

"What are you?" I demanded, shifting on my feet to ready myself for the fight that was to come.

I needed to keep them talking long enough to come up with a plan that didn't involve me dying. With the door barring the way, no one would ever find my corpse. It would stay here, rotting until it looked less like me and more like these creatures. Somehow, though, the idea of dying here alone didn't sadden me as much as thinking about Remy on the other side of the wall. He would never know what happened to me.

The creature to my left rotated its head to the side. Neck bones cracked and rattled with the movement, and it exhaled slowly before speaking, tainting the air with its fetid breath.

"We are the Sentinels of Dycidium. We stand guard against those who do not know the words."

"Why would the portal need to be guarded?" I demanded as sudden excitement pushed back the dread weighing me down. I was right. This was the path to Dycidium. "Souls need to go through the portal."

The Sentinel on the right tilted its head so it was a mirror image of its partner. "But you are not a soul, are you? Fresh, warm, delicious blood still runs in your veins."

Frost turned the tips of my fingers blue, and the veins in my arms darkened with the cold. It would take very little effort to send a spray of ice at the Sentinels, but I had to wait for the perfect moment. There were two of them, and only one of me. If I miscalculated, they would easily overwhelm me, and I suspected they were weapons in their own right. Otherwise, they would not be here.

"My mother is the Fyrbyrd. She is the guardian of Dycidium."

They floated closer, moving further apart and creating a gap between them. A faint light glowed several dozen yards away, but I held no delusion that I could run fast enough to reach it before they would swoop down on me. Not to mention that it could be a trap. A path to nowhere.

"She is in the Other Realm."

"Enough. I know what you are doing, and I am hungry."

Rough stone bit through my jacket as my back hit the wall. Remiel's shouts had not lessened. He was going to have some choice words for me after this, and I exhaled slowly, praying there would be an after.

"What is she doing?" The Sentinel on the right asked the other.

The one on the left recoiled and hissed as his attention fell to where my hands touched the wall. I didn't have to look to know what they saw. A lacy film of frost spreading across the stone.

"Abomination. Magic that isn't her own."

At the same time, they opened their mouths wide, unhinging their jaws, and let loose a hair-raising shriek that made the contents of my stomach surge up my throat. A copper tang coated my tongue and blood gushed from my nose. My skin pulled tight to near splitting, and the whispers of a thousand voices crept in from the dark edges of my vision.

Burning. World on fire. So hot and so cold.

Those were the words Tievel had repeated so many times since I tried to lift the veil off his soul. They were the words of souls beyond the Shroud. The voices of the dead.

Crying out, I threw out my hands. Shards of ice fanned out across the room, striking true and hurting them enough to silence them. I fell to my knees and wiped my nose. Everything inside my body felt liquified, and the room tilted as I forced myself up.

The Sentinels had retreated. New holes peppered their decaying robes, but there was no blood. They shook themselves and moved closer. Bits of bone fell off their figures, clacking across the ground like spilled pebbles. I spit a clot of blood onto the floor and drew deeply on my magic until an arctic blue mist rose off my skin.