Mask of Poison (Fall of Under Book 1) by Kathryn Kingsley (great novels to read txt) 📕

Kamira’s laughter ended in a long rush of a sigh, and she shook her head. “This world will never cease to amaze me in the creative ways it comes up with to fuck us over. The Ancients must be bored again.”

“I do not think this was their doing.” Lyon let out a heavy breath. “I believe our world collided with Ember’s, and this is the result of the merger.”

“Fantastic. Well, I’m hungry, and we have a pack of needy mortals who want to stop hiking through the woods.” Kamira grunted in annoyance. “There is a clearing about five miles up the road. We will take the mortals there and set up camp for the night. And then you can tell Dtu and me everything you know.”

Green cat’s eyes found Ember, and that predatory glint returned to Kamira’s gaze. Ember felt her cheeks go warm. “And you. I look forward to talking with you some more.”

“I—um—” Now her cheeks were on fire.

“Feisty and cute.” Kamira sighed wistfully. “Lyon, why do you have all the luck?” Before her husband could respond, the woman took one step toward the woods, crouched, and jumped into the shadows. She moved faster than Ember could track.

I am so very painfully out of my league.

“I apologize. My wife can be a bit…much.” He ran a hand down his shirt and vest, smoothing a crease left over from his fall off his horse.

“That’s one word for it. I’m just glad you weren’t being attacked.”

“Well, I was. But she means me no permanent harm.” He smiled faintly.

“One question, though. Why are all the women around here half naked?” Not that I’m complaining.

Lyon laughed loudly and walked toward his horse. “Think on a world of immortals who cannot die, nor get sick, nor sire lineage. We have many, many idle hours to fill with whatever myriad activities you could possibly imagine.”

“You mean, your kind get very bored and find ways to amuse yourself?”

“Copious ways, yes.” He patted the horse’s neck. “And in Kamira’s case, her nudity is also a matter of comfort when she shifts her form. Changing shape with too much clothing, I am told, is restrictive and uncomfortable.” He said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, like it was something that just happened all the time. Magic and monsters. He climbed onto the back of his horse. “Come. It’s been an eventful day. I think rest is well-deserved.”

The horses both seemed much calmer now that Kamira was gone. Cricket had stopped stomping the dirt. Walking up, she ran her hand over his nose. “She makes me nervous, too,” she whispered to the animal. Cricket puffed air and nudged her with what she might have mistaken for affection.

“She won’t hurt you,” Lyon answered her comment. She glanced over at him, shocked that he had heard her from some twenty feet away. He smiled gently. “My gifts come with heightened senses.”

“No insulting you under my breath. Noted.” She climbed onto Cricket and settled down on the plates of the creature’s back. It was comfortable enough, but they had been riding for hours, and they had another hour to go to get to the clearing.

“It doesn’t stop anyone else. Don’t trouble yourself over it.” He chuckled.

She should have laughed with him. But dread was filling her instead. She should have been excited to see some of her own people. She should be thrilled that more of them survived. And she was. She was thrilled to know there were more refugees from Gioll who might be safe.

She snapped a dead branch off a tree as she rode past. She broke off a few of the smaller twigs until she had a section that looked about right. “Lyon?”

“Hm?”

“Can you set this on fire for me? Just the end of it.” She held out the branch to him.

“You’re assuming I can make fire on command?” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Magic is far more complicated than that.”

“Well…can you?”

He paused. “Yes.”

She smirked at him and waved the stick in his direction. “Please?”

With a shake of his head, he held out his hand and touched the end of the stick. It burst into flame. She laughed. “Oh, that’s incredible.” She pulled the small branch back and watched it burn for a while. “I wish I had magic. I wish I were something more than a guppy in a lake full of much larger hungry fish.” She blew out the fire. The end was appropriately charred. She tapped her finger on it once or twice to make sure it was cool enough.

“What are you doing?”

“The mark across my face signals that I am graedari.” She set the charred point to her cheek under her left eye and began to draw a line across her face, over her nose, and to the other side. “That I am a hunter, and not welcome among them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some hunters are chosen to stay behind as guardians. But those of us who aren’t? When we’re sent out into the wilds to hunt the drengil, we aren’t meant to return. Rejoining a sanctuary town or a citadel is strictly forbidden. Being seen without a mark is considered shameful, and grounds for being outcast. People know me by my strange hair, but this is tradition. And all we have left—had, I guess—is our traditions.”

Ember finished drawing the line and tossed the stick away. “I don’t belong to your world. You have magic, and…can change your shape. And float. And do incredible things. But the ‘mortals’ we’re about to meet? The sad fact is, I don’t really belong in their world either.”

“If I have come to believe in one thing, it is that everyone has a place where they belong. You have simply not found yours yet. I have faith you will.”

“Faith.” She sighed and looked up at the stars. Stars she didn’t recognize, but that were beautiful all the same. “Do you think my old gods are dead?”

“I do not know.”

“But they aren’t here. If they aren’t