Change of Darkness (The Change Series Book 3) by Jacinta Jade (best new books to read txt) 📕

loudly across the sand as Siray’s blood pumped quickly in her veins. She looked back at Herrin and saw what she had guessed in his cold eyes.

‘You don’t have a choice if you want to save them.’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

UP ON THE platforms, Siray’s friends had ceased struggling against their bonds, tied tightly as they now were to the posts.

She wondered desperately for a moment why they did not Change and fight or flee but swiftly realised that there must be something stopping them, as Baindan’s and Zale’s furious expressions told her that they would have ripped apart their platforms and the guards who had bound them there had they been able to.

She was still looking at her friends, desperately thinking how she might save them without giving up her secret, when Herrin spoke again.

‘Proceed.’

Siray spun towards him, staring at him half in rage, half in shock, but Herrin only nodded back towards the soldiers, as if saying, they don’t have much time.

Siray whirled again and froze—the soldiers were advancing on her friends in quick order, some of them Changing along the way, while others kept their usual forms. A number of predator shapes emerged, while others shifted into larger beasts that began to gather speed, their long legs covering large lengths of sandy ground with every stride.

Siray gritted her teeth but didn’t hesitate a fraction longer as she threw herself forwards into a sprint, chasing after the soldiers. Once she had reached her top speed, she Changed mid-stride, something she had never done before, but which she did now without even thinking.

Four hooves hit the sandy ground in a quick but muted beat, the sand spraying up behind her as her speed increased further still.

Siray’s fear for her friends drove her forwards, faster and faster. It was a race now, a dash for the platforms, that she had to win. Because coming in second …

The soldiers could hear her coming and also increased their speed, obviously under orders to give no quarter, but Siray had gained on the ones to the rear of the spread-out formation who, still being in their usual two-legged forms, were slower than the rest. Without mercy—as they surely would show none to her friends—Siray used her horns efficiently and viciously, slashing her head from side to side as she drew even with their shoulders, her horns catching and ripping through their clothing and flesh, the soldiers falling screaming to the ground or being thrown sideways by the violence of her attack.

Oddly, the screams had no effect on Siray—she didn’t feel remorse or have any doubts about what she had to do. She felt anger, but without the drug the Faction had used on them previously, it was a cold anger, making her all the more deadly. She didn’t pause to consider the question that popped into her mind: if her lack of feeling was just the need to save her friends or if something in this place had fundamentally altered who she was. She turned that brief moment of inward focus outwards on her enemies—two down, twenty-four to go.

Siray tracked the bodies of the advancing group of soldiers, urging her body forwards in great surges of effort, her muscles straining for each and every extra handspan she could gain.

But the soldiers, aware of the threat behind them, had now split into smaller groups and were approaching the platforms from different angles. Siray didn’t think about it but kept on straight, aiming for the group that had decided to make straight for the platforms rather than veer off from her attack.

It was a bad choice.

She swept up behind them like a storm and lowered her head towards the centre of their arrangement, where three soldiers in their normal forms were running on the inside of two larger beasts, their normal legs leaving them slightly behind the rest of the group.

The first soldier Siray hit cried out in agony as one of her sharp horns went straight through his shoulder, but barely had his screams caused the others to turn towards her when she had tossed her head, throwing the soldier off her horns and to the sand a few body lengths away.

She didn’t still for an instant but pirouetted in a tight circle, tossing her head as she moved so that her horns slashed open the face of a female soldier on her right side just before another step and a strong upwards jerk of her head ripped open a red line on the torso of a third, blood quickly soaking his black shirt and then the sand as he fell to the ground. The female soldier also fell, but Siray couldn’t tell if she was just stunned or mortally wounded. She didn’t care, as long as the female would be no further threat.

‘Siray!’

The desperate shout reached her ears, and Siray twisted, her feet churning up the sand that was turning red beneath her hooves as she identified Kovi’s voice.

Of different heights, the high platforms were spread out so that you couldn’t walk from the top of one to another, but would have to climb down and travel across the sand before reaching the side of another and ascending again. Off to Siray’s left, she spotted Kovi on a platform, his lean form straining at his bonds, muscles standing out in his neck and arms as he desperately tried to free himself.

But he wasn’t looking at her—instead he was staring wildly at the platform to his right, which several soldiers had started to climb after resuming their usual Kaslonian forms, and on which a restrained Genlie was becoming pale as darkly chuckling soldiers climbed towards her.

The moment of inattention cost Siray, and a huge form collided with her at speed, throwing her into the air before she crashed down hard on her side—on the same shoulder that had been injured in the pit.

The impact stunned her for an instant, but Siray was dimly aware that the sandy floor had also just saved her life—hitting any other