I turned in the direction the bloodsucker would’ve looked if it were still alive. It made sense.
Two vampires tore out of the woods and galloped across the pasture, both so old, no sign of upright locomotion remained. They ran on all fours, grotesque ugly creatures, so warped nobody would’ve guessed they’d started out as human. Their sunblock, a deep crimson, looked like fresh blood.
“She isn’t here,” the undead said in unison in Ghastek’s voice, his words sharp enough to cut.
“What’s Rowena’s effective range?”
“Four point six seven miles.”
I pushed through the vegetation to the other side.
“Kate!” he snapped.
The underbrush ended. We stood on the apex of a low hill, fields and woods rolling to the horizon. A column of black smoke stabbed at the sky due southeast.
“Kings Row,” I told Ghastek.
The distant roar of water engines came from the northwest—Curran and the mercs were catching up.
Ghastek’s bloodsuckers streaked down the hill. Christopher took a running start, swept me up, and flew into the sky.
* * *
• • •
KING’S ROW, POPULATION around a thousand, was born from the remnants of a fracturing Decatur. Most of the people gave up trying to fight nature fueled by magic steroids and pulled into the city proper, but a few neighborhoods remained, turning into small towns: Chapel Hill, Sterling Forest, and Kings Row. They set up their own post offices and water and guard towers and held on to their land.
Christopher circled the settlement. Kings Row was no more. Nothing remained except for a charred ruin. Black ash hid the ground. Smoke billowed from half a dozen places, greasy and acrid, joining together into a single massive cloud above. Here and there remnants of the fire smoldered, red veins in the black crust. With a fire, some structures would’ve been left standing: fireplaces, brick walls, ruined appliances, burned-out cars . . . There was nothing. Not even the outline of the streets. Only black ash.
He’d taken a thousand people. I didn’t know if they’d died in the fire or if he’d kidnapped them, but they were gone and Neig was to blame.
No more. I needed to get my hands on him now.
And what would I do when I did? I didn’t even know if a blood ward would hold against that.
Christopher took another turn. Something shone through the smoke, a smudged orange glow.
“There!” I pointed, but he had already seen it. We dropped through the smoke and landed on the ash. Heat scoured my face.
A twelve-foot-tall pillar rose in the middle of the ravaged field, a translucent column dusted with ash. Within it, an orange glowing liquid flowed. Glass, I realized. The pillar was glass, its outer crust solid, but inside it was molten.
Christopher made a choking sound.
I looked up.
There was a human being in the pillar.
Oh dear God.
The body was encased in glass up to the shoulders. The head and neck were free, smudged with soot, all the hair burned off, but the body itself floated, submerged in the molten glass. It wasn’t burned. The molten glass should’ve boiled the flesh off the bones, but I could see pale legs dangling in the glowing liquid.
What the bloody fuck?
The head opened its eyes.
Still alive. How?
The dry cracked lips moved. “He . . .”
Ghastek’s vampires slid to a stop next to me and froze.
“He . . .” the person in the glass said. “Help.”
Rowena.
Every hair on my arms stood on end.
I concentrated on the pillar, pulling magic inside me to shine at it like a light. I couldn’t see it the way Julie did, but I felt the veins of glowing power twisting into the pillar in a complicated web. Inside, Rowena was coated in it as if she wore a skintight bodysuit. The web cradled her, winding through every inch of the pillar. The whole thing was bound together. Shit.
Ghastek’s left vamp charged to the glass column.
“No!” I yelled.
It turned to me.
“If you break the glass, she’ll burn to death.”
“Are you sure?” Ghastek asked, his voice clipped.
“Yes.”
A Jeep rounded the bend of the road. Julie and Derek jumped out and ran toward us.
“Can we drain it from the bottom?” Christopher asked.
“She’s wrapped in a spell. It’s clinging to her like a second skin. The skin is connected to the pillar. We break any part of it, she’ll die instantly.”
The vampire spun around. “Get her out of there.” Ghastek’s voice vibrated with steel. “Kate!”
“Quiet.”
If we broke the pillar, she died. If we tried to lift her out of it, she died. If tech hit, she died.
Vampires dashed out of the woods on the northern edge of the town. The People catching up with Ghastek.
Julie reached me, looked up at the pillar, and clamped her hand over her mouth.
What do I do?
The awful sound of groaning wood rolled through the air. I turned. On the south side, the trees shuddered. Green branches twisted and dropped. Something had snapped the decades-old pines like toothpicks.
Something huge. The druid carving flashed before me. I pulled Sarrat from its sheath.
“Form on In-Shinar!” Ghastek snapped.
The undead lined up into a wedge behind me.
An oak split, spun on its trunk, and plummeted down. A massive snout emerged into the light, six feet across. An enormous head followed, shaggy with brown fur. Two curved tusks big enough to skewer a car flanked the snout, followed by three pairs of shorter tusks. Short spiked horns protruded from the beast’s skull.
Well, of course. That’s what this party was missing. An enormous, pissed-off pig. Fuck me.
Behind me the Guild Jeeps tore around the bend of the road and sped across the burned ground, raising a cloud of ash.
The colossal boar took a step forward. Ragged gashes crossed its hide, cutting through a network of faded scars. Here and there, spiked balls punctured its hide, half-sunken into its flesh. Someone had tortured this boar.
The beast swung its head toward me. A broken chain dangled around its neck, as thick as a lighting pole. At its end hung a huge metal symbol, Neig’s shackles.
“It’s a god.” Julie took a step back. “Its magic is silver.”
I hold gods prisoner, tormenting them for my pleasure.
Neig had captured a god, kept him prisoner for a thousand years, tortured him, and now he’d loosed him on us. There would have been only one boar god on the British Isles for Neig to capture.
“It’s Moccus,” I said. The Celtic Boar, guardian of hunters and warriors, the Caledonian Monster. A god, or rather its manifestation. Killing it wouldn’t kill the deity, but it would banish it from our reality. A tech shift would rip him out of existence instantly. It would also kill Rowena.
“Does it have any weaknesses?” Ghastek asked.
“No.”
The boar opened its mouth and roared. The bellow slapped my eardrums, a mad blast of rage. It reverberated through the burned-out town. Ash trembled.
Just what we needed.
Moccus pawed the ground. Another bellow smashed into us.
The bloodsuckers waited, unmoving.
Nothing I had would deliver a punch strong enough to one-shot him. We’d have to bleed Moccus. It would take hours. We didn’t have time to fight him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw three Guild Jeeps barreling down the road toward us. They went off the pavement and tore through the scarred town, raising clouds of ash.
“We have to kill it fast,” I said.
“Fast isn’t an option,” Christopher answered, his voice detached. “He’s too large and he’s a god. He will regenerate.”
“We have to try. Rowena doesn’t have time.”
Moccus sighted us. His deep-set eyes ignited with fury. The boar was finally free from confinement. Free to punish. Neig had driven him mad.
“Protocol Giant,” Ghastek said, his voice calm. “Prioritize damage over undead casualties.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” Rowena whispered from the pillar. “Go. Leave.”
Moccus started forward.
Here we go. I pulled magic to myself.
The leading Jeep slid to a halt. A single man jumped out and sprinted to the boar. I would know that sprint anywhere.