by Jus Accardo
Navar said something Kera couldn’t hear, but Lani’s voice rang loud and clear in the clearing. “It’s a good day to die.”
Kera’s heart froze. Why would she say such a thing? Before an answer could be had, the men forced her to bow. In a long, graceful flex of his arm, Navar pulled out his sword, and without hesitating, brought the blade down in a perfect, deadly arc, separating Lani’s head from her shoulders.
Kera’s hands flew to her mouth, muffling her sharp cry. She staggered back, eyes wide with horror. The men holding Lani’s body let go, as if she were nothing but a piece of garbage better left untouched.
“No.” The word stumbled dryly from Kera’s lips. She lurched back, though her eyes were still glued to the gruesome scene. “No, no, no.” Her horror turned into a physical pain she couldn’t control. She clutched her stomach and shook her head, repeating the word more and more loudly.
Her gaze landed on Navar, her anger so hot and so heavy, she felt she would burst if she didn’t release the scream rising in her throat. “Murderer!”
The accusation echoed through the forest. War-hardened horses pranced nervously. The soldiers began to search the area, their swords raised, ready to battle the unseen.
Navar pushed his men into action, hatred contorting his handsome features. “Go! Bring out the hounds. Do whatever it takes to find the others.”
She had to get away. Had to hide. If she didn’t, they’d find her and kill her just like they had Lani.
Something solid halted her retreat. The barrier.
A heavy mist swirled forward, entwining about her like angry vines. It hung thick, swallowing her skin, invading her lungs. She couldn’t breathe. Her head grew light. She closed her eyes and thought of her friend, and when next she opened her eyes, she was standing on the wrong side of the shimmering wall that divided the human realm from hers. She continued to back away from the site of Lani’s death, her stomach roiling, her mind screaming an alarm. How had she crossed through? It couldn’t be done—shouldn’t be done. Everyone knew that.
Her nerves stretched taut. Any minute, one of Navar’s men would rush through and grab her. She turned and ran, tears of sorrow, regret, and helplessness pouring down her cheeks. When the trees grew thinner, she staggered to a stop. The pine needles beneath her feet were brittle, not soft. The air smelled musty, not tinged with the hint of burning coal.
She pushed through the wild undergrowth, cognizant of the differences, yet seeing the familiarity that joined this realm to her own. What kind of danger lurked here? It couldn’t be worse than what was happening in her world.
Kera closed her eyes, shying away from the pain of Lani’s death. Her father had tried to protect her from the dangers that had infiltrated her home, but the horror of what she’d seen etched itself into her mind, blinding her path with misery and the knowledge that even her father was helpless to stop the madness that had invaded their land.
From the expression of absolute hatred on Navar’s face, the madness would continue.
For Lani’s sake, Kera wouldn’t allow herself to succumb to grief. She had to get back to her realm, had to protect those who were at risk of falling into Navar’s hands. God only knew what kind of evil he was planning.
The person she feared for the most was her father. Even now, Navar could be questioning him, ferreting out his involvement with the outcasts, and demanding to see her. Though her father’s blood flowed true, he walked a fine line. If Navar knew he lent resources to those he called the “tainted,” the warlord would have no qualms sentencing her father to death.
She couldn’t stay in this realm.
Rubbing at the gooseflesh covering her arms, Kera surveyed the area. She had no idea how far she’d run or where she’d find the wall. A better view was needed, but she couldn’t move in her clothing. With deft fingers, she unlaced her shoes and struggled out of her dress. The bustle, a contraption of wire, horsehair, and cloth that surrounded her hips, came loose with one tug of the buckle. Lastly, she rolled down her stockings.
When she was done, she stood amid a clutter of garments in her underskirts, shift, and corset. She gathered them, then placed her belongings under a pile of leaves at the base of a tree. Free to move, she was up the tree in no time and moving from branch to branch.
In this realm, her balance was off. Her legs leaden, her movements slower. Her breathing grew heavier. The bond between her and her father was stretched too thin. She floated to the ground and steadied herself.
And then she felt it. A ripple of power. She stopped and turned. Beyond the trees, spread out on a tract of cleared land, was a farmhouse, and within…
Dylan?
2 SHEA BERKLEY
The Marked Son 3
The Marked Son 5
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The Marked Son 7
8 SHEA BERKLEY
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10 SHEA BERKLEY
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16 SHEA BERKLEY
The Marked Son 17
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The Marked Son 21
22 SHEA BERKLEY
The Marked Son 23
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The Marked Son 25
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The Marked Son 27
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The Marked Son 29
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The Marked Son 31
