Queen of Poison (The Venatrix Chronicles Book 6) by Sylvia Mercedes

Author:Sylvia Mercedes [Mercedes, Sylvia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FireWyrm Books
Published: 2020-05-19T16:00:00+00:00

Gerard reined in his horse at the top of a rise. The afternoon sun was high above, shedding light but no heat on the winter day. The shadows in the valleys lengthened and deepened, but they were not dark enough to hide what those valleys contained.

They could not hide the field of the dead.

Darkness fell across Gerard’s spirit like a cloud passing over the sun. He sat as though frozen, staring down that slope, unable to tear his gaze away from that grim sight.

There were a dozen or more. Men, women. Children too.

These were his people. Murdered. He didn’t have to guess by whom. The Crimson Devils of Dread Odile had no regard for mortal lives. Not even the lives of their own host bodies. Certainly not the lives of humble village folk. They used them. Killed them. Like a herd of cattle led to the butcher.

At first, Gerard could see nothing but death below him, could feel nothing but horror. But as the first wave of horror passed, he saw something else—a pattern. Most of the bodies lay in the center, piled up on top of each other, while the others formed circles out from the center. As though all of them were engaged in some sort of strange and terrible dance.

Or controlled by a single mind.

“The Corpsewitch,” Gerard whispered.

His horse trembled, snorted, uneasy in the presence of so much death. But an Evanderian horse didn’t spook easily. Gerard adjusted his grip on the reins and turned his gaze east again. To the Witchwood.

It was close now; he could see the fringe forest from here.

His heart pounded in his throat. More than anything, he longed to turn from this path, to give up this wild ride. The urge to hunt the Corpsewitch burned in his breast, the desire to avenge these people—his people. These innocent souls taken and used as tools, then cruelly discarded.

But there was only one way to end this madness.

“May the Mother receive you, who hath called you.” he murmured, raising his right hand in salute to the fallen. “And may the heavenly spirits conduct you to the Gates of Light. GoddessHead have mercy. GoddessHeart have mercy. GoddessSoul have mercy.”

Then he turned his horse’s head east once more and spurred it into a gallop, leaving the valley of the dead behind. He did not see the wind that blew across their still faces, pulling at their hair.

He did not see them open their eyes. Stir. Stretch.

Begin to rise.

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