A League of Exiles Read online

  I briefly glanced at Caspian. The look of horror on his face as Jax and Hansa held him back broke my heart. I only had two choices, now clearer than ever: die from the venom, or beat this Manticore kid into submission and get her to yield, then sting me again to counteract the deadly toxin. I’m not dying here, dammit!

  Pheng-Pheng must’ve guessed my thoughts or something because, despite her wounds, she got up and kicked me in the chest. I fell back, my limbs getting weaker with every passing second. Her grin made my poisoned blood boil.

  I am not… dying… here…

  “This is it,” Pheng-Pheng said. “You’re not strong enough for my mother’s support.”

  “Your mother—” I breathed, then realized what she’d just revealed. Pheng-Pheng was Neha’s daughter. Why doesn’t that surprise me? “You should’ve waited until I was dead to tell me that.”

  “Why? You wouldn’t hear me if I said it then.” Pheng-Pheng chuckled, pointing both knives at me, and pushed her foot deeper into my chest. The pressure made me cough. One more push and my ribs would snap.

  “Because now I have leverage, little Manticore,” I growled, as I mustered the last sliver of energy left and pushed out a targeted barrier against her knees. I heard the bones crack from the impact.

  She cried out in pain and collapsed on top of me. I instantly rolled us over, my left knee digging into her wounded side, and pulled one of the knives out of my right boot. I pushed the blade against her throat and looked over my shoulder.

  It was becoming difficult to breathe, and the image before me was getting hazy, but I could still make out the terrified look on Neha’s face. That’s what I wanted to see.

  “Yield,” I told Pheng-Pheng. “Yield, and I won’t slit your throat.”

  “Slit my throat, and you will die,” she hissed, her expression pained from the pressure I was applying on her side wound. My knife blade nicked her, a thin line of blood drawing its way across her tan skin into the dirt beneath her.

  “If I slit your throat now, I win, and your mother will have no choice but to help my people. It’s worth dying for, as far as I’m concerned, Pheng-Pheng. Is your pride worth dying for?”

  She thought about it for a second, her aura bursting in violent reds. She was furious and helpless, and she knew it. I just needed her to yield before I blacked out—and that was any second now. Her face turned into a puddle of watercolor splashes. This is it.

  A sharp pain flared through the back of my neck. The Manticore sting.

  “I yield!” Pheng-Pheng shouted.

  I heard cheers behind me. And hurried steps coming toward me.

  But I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t see anything anymore. My consciousness slipped through my fingers, and everything turned black.

  Avril

  Dion and Alles led the way from Ragnar Peak into the Plains of Lagerith. We covered hundreds of miles in the span of several hours at a steady speed. The plains themselves were truly beautiful—seemingly endless waves of tall, dark green grass swaying in the wind.

  The more we advanced through the fields, the darker the skies. Rain eventually started to pour down, cool and heavy droplets weighing us down. We kept our hoods on as we moved forward, constantly checking our surroundings, especially the nearby patches of woods. I could see the snowy mountains rising in the distance, their white peaks obscured by charcoal clouds.

  Heron and I were right behind the young Imen, with Scarlett and Patrik several feet at the back, accompanied by Jack. The pit wolf was large and heavy, as tall as we were on horseback, but impressively fast over long distances. He stayed close to Scarlett’s side, his red eyes relentlessly checking the area.

  “We’re getting closer to Adlet territory, I think,” Dion said.

  “What makes you say that? Did you see them?” I asked, feeling somewhat nervous at the prospect of encountering a new species of Neraka. Not knowing whether they’d welcome us or try to kill us put me on edge. Jovi must’ve felt the same way during their trip to find the Lamias of the River Pyros, back on Calliope, during the rebellion against Azazel. I’d learned plenty from those endeavors, though—we had something that the Adlets wanted. We had a way out of the death and destruction handed out by the daemons. We had armies and dragons ready to come in, provided we got the swamp witch back.

  “I told you they mark their hunting grounds,” Dion replied, pointing ahead.

  Several skulls were scattered across the grass—not visible right away, given the tall greenery. A herd of moon-bison rumbled somewhere to our right. There were hundreds of them grazing along the base of a distant hill.

  Jack’s growl emerged from behind us. Alles smirked, glancing over his shoulder. “And the pit wolf is getting anxious. He can sense they’re nearby.”

  I looked back at the pit wolf and followed his nervous gaze to our left. Black smoke billowed close to the horizon, flames licking at the ashen sky. “What’s that?” I asked.

  “That… That was an Imen village,” Dion replied, his voice trembling. “The daemons must’ve gotten to them.”

  “I thought this was Adlet territory,” I said, frowning.

  “It is. But I doubt it stretches that far. The Adlets keep their distance from everyone, Imen included,” Dion explained, then exhaled. “I knew there were Imen living in these parts. I’d seen the caravans before.”

  “You knew it was only a matter of time before the daemons got to them,” Alles replied. “Ledda sent word to them, offered to join forces and strengthen our village, but they foolishly chose to stay here, probably thinking the Adlets would protect them.”

  “Why wouldn’t the Adlets help them?” Scarlett asked, gazing at the threads of smoke. It didn’t rain in that village area, specifically on the northern edge of the Lagerith Plains. A daemon attack didn’t come as a shock, especially if they were able to use their invisibility spell to take the Imen by surprise.

  “It’s every creature for itself here,” Dion replied bitterly. “That’s why we’re so pleased to see you people trying to bring us all together. For too long we’ve strayed on our own, little groups scattered across the continent, struggling to survive, while the daemons slaughtered our friends and families. Maybe GASP will bring back the old alliances.”

  “We’ll do our best, that I can promise you,” Heron said. I could see the pain in his jade eyes as he gazed into the distance, watching the village ruins burn. He’d seen this before on Calliope, before he was imprisoned by Azazel. I could only imagine the dreadful memories coming back to haunt him.

  Another hour went by as we delved deeper into Adlet territory. We moved slowly, waiting for the moon-bison to come closer to our side. Adlets were bound to appear at some point, stalking the herd, since they preferred hunting during the day.

  The silence between Heron and me was becoming uncomfortable—and that was mostly my fault. After everything we’d been through, my feelings for him were clearer and more profound than ever, and I needed to tell him. Death was constantly on our trail, and I didn’t want to leave this world without him knowing how I felt about him.

  Most importantly, it pained me to think that, once we got out of here and back to Calliope, he’d be back with all those lady friends of his. I couldn’t bear the thought, actually. And the longer I held that in me, the more it hurt. I had nothing to lose, given our circumstances.

  “What’s up with you?” Heron asked, noticing my frown.

  “Nothing,” I replied, shaking my head.

  “That look on your face doesn’t say ‘nothing’. It says ‘I’m upset and I feel like kicking somebody in the face’,” he retorted, giving me a half smile. The way his eyes lit up made me tingle all over. Man, I had such a crush on the wrong guy.

  “That’s not what this look says. You’re reading it wrong,” I said.

  “Oh. My bad. What does it say, then?”

  “It says you’re terrible at reading people. Duh.”

  “See, now you’re straight up lying to me,” Heron replied, vi
sibly amused.

  “How can you tell?”

  His gaze darkened as it settled on my face. “Your heartbeat, Avril. I can hear it. It’s… frantic.”

  That shut me up fast. He still wasn’t reading it right, though, because it wasn’t my attempt to deceive him that was making my heart pound like a maniac. It was his very presence, the way he looked at me. The way his short black hair brought out the jade green in his eyes. Not to mention that five o’clock shadow that gave him this hot, rugged allure. Snap out of it, Avril.

  I didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and Heron didn’t insist, either. But my nerves continued stretching, to the point where even my horse was sensing my emotional discomfort. It neighed and shuddered beneath me, prompting me to blurt out the truth.

  “I like you, Heron,” I said, my tone slightly pitchy. “Like, really like you. I didn’t think I would. Honestly, just until we got here, I promised myself I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, though my body never listened. You’re a serial philanderer with one too many girlfriends. You made a pass at me at a wedding, and even though I slapped you, I actually wanted to kiss you. I still do. Only now it’s even more intense because I’m getting to know you better. And you’re amazing. And I don’t understand why you hide beneath the façade that got you slapped in the first place. You’re smart, and strong, and resourceful… And I’m using too many ‘ands’… Dammit. Point is, Heron, I really like you, though I hate to admit it because it goes against my promise to myself to never allow someone like you to break my heart. I don’t know what to do with these feelings, given our circumstances, but I do know that if something happens, and one or both of us die here, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I couldn’t be honest with you, all the way.”

  Boy, that was a lot I’d been holding in. I felt like an agitated bottle of soda. The seal had just snapped, and the foam was overflowing—in my case, the words. The feelings. I didn’t even look at him until after I finished my ramble.

  My heart skipped a beat when our eyes met. Heron was stunned, his eyebrows raised and his mouth open, close to gaping. He didn’t say anything, and that just made it worse for me because now the anxiety caused by not speaking my mind was being replaced by the anxiety of having bared my damn soul in front of him. And he was too quiet for my comfort. Is it supposed to feel like this?

  Wasn’t he supposed to say something? Anything?

  He looked away for a few moments, and I crumbled on the inside. My face burned with shame as a million negative thoughts cut through my brain. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. This wasn’t a good time. But when would be a good time, given our constant movement and fighting to stay alive? No, it was good, even healthy, to let it out. He can ignore me if he wants to. Or he can say something. The ball is in his court.

  Then why do I feel so freaking awkward? And why the hell is he so quiet?

  “Avril, I—”

  “Adlets!” Dion interrupted Heron, and completely halted the conversation. He pointed at the herd of moon-bison. The animals cried out and ran to the south, their hooves thundering across the plain.

  My stomach dropped, yet I had no choice but to focus on the task at hand. I shifted my focus back to the moon-bison herd, carefully analyzing their erratic movements. They worked very much like a swarm, outside influences swaying them off their usual course.

  “There!” I said, and pointed at two patches of reddish fur darting through the tall grass on the west side of the herd, then noticed the other four, farther back. “And there!”

  The Adlets hunted in a pattern similar to the wolves back on Earth, approaching the large herd and targeting the calves. We brought our horses to a halt and watched the creatures as they cornered a sturdy calf, separating it from the herd.

  “Do we wait for them to have dinner, or what?” Heron asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He was beyond irritated after he’d been cut off earlier. At least I’m not the only one in a foul mood now. And at least I knew that he did want to reply to what I’d just said.

  Jack’s growls turned to whimpers, and he baffled us all when he shot across the grass, headed straight for the Adlets. “What the…” I murmured, then saw Scarlett rushing after him, her horse galloping at his speed.

  “Jack, no!” she shouted after the pit wolf. “Jack, come back!”

  “Ah, man, that mutt’s going to get himself killed,” Patrik grumbled, then nudged his horse and went after Scarlett and Jack. We had no choice but to follow.

  “Jack,” I called out. “Get back here!”

  We all tried to get him to turn back, but the pit wolf didn’t listen. He just ran, whimpering like an excited puppy, until the Adlets saw him. It took less than a second for them to forget about the moon-bison calf and bare their huge fangs at us, and at Jack, in particular.

  They were gorgeous creatures, as big as the pit wolf, just like the descriptions we’d heard. Their fur coats were soft, thick, and brick red, curled upward along the spine as a sign of aggression. Uh-oh.

  Jack came to a screeching halt when he saw the Adlets coming at him, snapping their jaws and growling viciously. “Ah, crap,” I muttered, and beckoned my horse to move faster.

  Scarlett was the first to reach Jack, and moved her horse in front of him, while the Adlets—six of them in total—charged toward her.

  “Stop, please!” she shouted at them.

  They didn’t even acknowledge her, their orange-yellow eyes fixed on the pit wolf. Hate burned bright in them. Scarlett leapt off her horse and put her hands out in a defensive gesture, while Jack yelped behind her.

  Patrik jumped off his horse and reached her side, while we slowed down and joined them on horseback. The Adlets stopped just a few feet away from us, snarling and shuddering with what I assumed was rage.

  “Please, don’t hurt him! He’s with us!” Scarlett pleaded. “We come in peace. We don’t want to hurt you!”

  Jack sat on his hind legs, keeping his head down and his red gaze on the Adlets, who suddenly calmed down. They all blinked several times and cocked their heads to one side—I could swear there was a glimmer of recognition in their eyes as they curiously checked Jack out.

  We all heard Scarlett’s sigh of relief. She’d grown really attached to Jack, and, by proxy, so had we. Whoever joined our “pack” was with us until death, and the pit wolf was no exception, especially after he’d saved her during her last encounters with daemons and Exiled Maras.

  “We’ve come to offer an alliance,” Scarlett said. “We’re not from this world, but we want to help. We have armies, and we can bring them here to fight the daemons and end their tyranny.”

  One of the Adlets took a couple of steps forward, then shifted into his humanoid form. The bones cracked beneath his skin as he got up on his hind legs, his arms stretching out. He grunted from the pain, then straightened his back and frowned at us.

  He was a couple of heads taller than us, extremely well built, with ropes of muscle covering every inch of him. His hair was long and curly—the same shade of red as his Adlet fur. He was naked, of course, but the tall grass kept his nether parts hidden. Thank the stars.

  His amber eyes settled on Jack, and the grief was instantly recognizable. I had a feeling they knew each other. The wheels started spinning in my head, and I started sniffing the air, looking for scent markers. The Adlets were territorial and feral, but still organized in packs. The others shifted into their humanoid forms as well, and I noted their different facial features. Two of them were definitely related, and they had a youngling with them who didn’t look a day past thirteen.

  “What are you doing here?” the first Adlet grumbled, unable to take his eyes off Jack.

  “We need your help,” Scarlett said. “We have friends who are on their way to Draconis to look for the swamp witch. Once we get her back, we’ll be able to bring down whatever shield the daemons put up to stop us from contacting our people. When that happens, all hell will break loose for King Shaytan, and we’ll need all the fighters we c
an get to protect us and her until our armies get here. We heard there were Adlets in these parts, and that you might want to be a part of this.”

  A few seconds went by in silence. Another Adlet came forward, also appearing stunned by Jack’s presence. “Is that—”

  “I think so, yes,” the first Adlet cut him off.

  “You know Jack, don’t you?” I asked, noticing the pit wolf’s gentle demeanor. Scarlett gave me a curious look, then glanced at Jack and the Adlets, and came to the same conclusion.

  “You’ve seen Jack before?” she said, placing a hand on the pit wolf’s head.

  “We can’t be out here like this,” the first Adlet replied, his reddish brow furrowed. “I’ll take you to our pack leader, Colton, in the woods there.” He pointed at a patch of forest just a couple hundred yards off to the west.

  “It’s him,” the youngling gasped, and moved to reach out to Jack, but the others stopped him and pulled him back. “It’s him!”

  My heart ached at the sight of tears running down his tanned face. There was so much pain in his amber eyes, I could almost feel it myself. They definitely knew Jack, and that just made room for a whole lot of questions.

  “Quiet, Mahlon! Know your place!” the first Adlet barked, then looked at Scarlett. “Come with us. Daemons prowl on the edges of this plain. We can’t have them see you here.”

  Scarlett and Patrik nodded, then got back on their horses. “Stay close to me, Jack,” Scarlett ordered the pit wolf, her tone harsh and reprimanding. She’d had quite the scare with him just now, and she was clearly afraid she’d lose him if she didn’t keep him close—not that I could blame her. “Please.”

  Jack’s ears perked up, and he let out a soft whimper to acknowledge her demand. We then proceeded to the west. The Adlets turned back to giant wolves and ran toward the small forest.

  Despite the rough start, I knew we stood a good chance of persuading at least this pack to join our fight, since they were willing to listen to what we had to say. Most importantly, they knew Jack. Looking at the pit wolf as he ran alongside Scarlett’s horse, I noticed the similarities in his bone and muscle structure—despite his black, hairless skin and flaming red eyes, Jack had a lot more in common with the Adlets than I’d thought, prior to meeting them.