He’d need to hurry now; they were starting to regain consciousness. The first Shadow-touched opened its eyes and immediately growled at him, gnashing its teeth and struggling against its bindings. The others stirred. Kieran knew the ropes wouldn’t contain them for long. Not once the drug wore off and they were no longer under its effects.
Not wanting to be anywhere near them when they managed to escape, Kieran dropped their ropes and slammed the door shut. His other pets should already be free by now. It was time to see how they were faring.
As he moved deeper into the citadel, he started to hear the screams.
Satisfaction settled deep in his belly. Excellent.
Turning the corner, Kieran came to a sudden halt. Where there had once been a spiraling staircase leading up to a series of bedrooms and meditation suites, there was now nothing. The entire section of the citadel was gutted, stone and wood piled in a series of tiny mountains, blocking his way. Weak afternoon light shone down and illuminated the tiny dust motes that continued to rain down from the area above.
“Elder’s sagging sack,” he murmured. How in the hell had a handful of Shadow-touched managed this?
Tingling started in the base of his spine, and Kieran glanced around, suddenly uneasy.
Doubling back, Kieran raced through a separate hallway, this one leading him to a courtyard that jutted off from one of the main archives. The deeper into the building he went, the more frequent the pile of bodies became.
He lost count after thirty.
Surely the Guardians should have been able to make short work of the Shadow-touched. It wasn’t like they had the power of . . .
Kieran wasn’t able to complete the thought as his eyes landed on two lumbering figures standing in the courtyard.
Shadows.
Where the fuck did they come from?
Kieran froze, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
As more Shadows joined their brethren in the courtyard, everything clicked into place. It all made sense. The destruction. The body count.
There was only one way this was possible.
The Shadows had been hiding in the jungle this whole time.
Watching.
Waiting.
These new sentient creatures were much more terrifying than their predecessors. Ever since shaking off the hold of their maker, they’d regained the ability to think and rationalize. As a result, they were now able to strategize and avoid detection by the Guardians—something that had never been possible before when their wills had been bound to another.
Kieran’s thoughts were coming faster now. Each sickening puzzle piece falling into place as his blood turned to ice.
The only way any Shadow could have made it into the citadel, let alone a group of this magnitude, was if they’d followed Kieran through one of the portals. Portals they never would have been able to find, let alone access, without him showing them the way.
As he watched, one of the Shadows leaned down and bit into a fallen Keeper. The man let out a pathetic scream as he struggled weakly against the creatures hold. Around him, the other Shadows let out victorious cheer as they followed suit, tearing into as many of the fallen as they could get their hands on.
It was then that Kieran knew. Khouman’s frantic story converged with what he was seeing before him. The Caederan scouting party had been attacked by Shadows. Even though they’d been healed, no one could save them in the end. One by one, the scouts had turned, irrevocably changed until nothing of the people they’d been remained.
Kieran had never been the one building an army. It had been them the whole time. The Shadows. They had found a way to turn others.
For weeks they’d been traveling throughout Elysia spreading their fucking plague, while the Chosen scratched their arses trying to figure out what was happening. And now it was too late.
How many more would turn before anyone was the wiser?
Kieran’s stomach rolled, guilt and panic warring inside of him. He’d known his actions would have casualties, but he hadn’t cared. He’d wanted to teach the smug bastards a lesson. But never, never had he meant for this to happen.
Not that anyone would believe him.
They would condemn him first and ask questions later.
He couldn’t be here when they figured out what he’d done.
Heart pounding like a death knell, Kieran rushed back to the portal room. The screams of the dying chasing him the entire way.
The citadel was the only home he’d had left, and now it was little less than ruins. Soon it wouldn’t be more than a pile of rubble.
Because of him.
He had nothing left. No home. No love. No future.
Heart heavy, Kieran raced through a portal, not caring where it led him and never once looking back.
Chapter 31
Ronan grabbed Effie beneath her arm and heaved her up from the floor.
“Come, Effie. We need to help the others.”
Wiping her face on her forearm, Effie adjusted her grasp on her weapon and turned away from the corpse below her.
“Let’s go,” she said, oddly calm despite the world falling down around them.
The walls continued to shake every few seconds, large cracks snaking down the walls and ceiling.
Screams continued to surround them as they pushed through the citadel. Closing her eyes, Effie let the sounds fuel her rage. So long as she stayed angry, she would be strong enough to do what needed to be done.
Ronan led the way, Reyna beside him. Effie trailed behind them, stepping carefully as the building continued to shake. It wasn’t long before they started to see the bodies of the fallen, like gruesome mile markers leading them to the heart of the battle. Gritting her teeth, Effie stepped over them, trying not to let herself think about the fact that she couldn’t recall their names.
“Ronan, look,” Reyna said, pointing to a particularly grizzly mound of bodies. “Weapons.”
Effie watched Reyna lift a quiver and bow from a puddle of thick blood and sling them over her shoulder. As her eyes roved over the desecrated remains of her peers, Effie should have been disgusted. As it was, she couldn’t manage more than idle curiosity. Body parts that should have never seen the light of day were strewn across the floor, the bodies that once contained them no longer recognizable as anything but meat. What would a Shadow have to do to turn someone into that?
Still kneeling, Reyna grabbed two swords and a mace.
Ronan accepted all three, holding the shorter of the swords out to Effie. Without a word, she took it from him and wiped the blade clean on her pants.
“Ah, look, it’s my favorite mousie.”
The voice was barely human, but Effie recognized it all the same, her body going completely still as a surge of anticipation worked its way through her.
“Tess,” she growled, twisting to the left to find the Shadow-touched woman flanked by two others.
“Keepers, retreat!”
The part of Effie that was still her, registered shock at the Triumvirate’s order. The new, primal part of her ignored it, wholly intent on revenge. She stepped forward, both her blades raised.
“Effie! Effie, fall back, you heard the order,” Ronan shouted, already turning to obey.
“No! This bitch is the reason for the attack. I’m not letting her get away again.”
A manic cackle bounced off the walls at her words. “Is that what you believe? You didn’t let me do anything, little mouse.”