Chapter Eighteen
The heads were the first things I saw, rotted away on poles surrounding the base of the fort like discarded fruit in the summer sun. What was left of our lost group of young would-be heroes barely looked human, their decomposition made even more by violent by the henbane flowing through my veins. Worms crawled out of sockets where eyes had once been. Jowls hung, torn and desiccated like badly butchered meat. Ravens pecked at hair, at tongues or skin, leaving deep divots into which flies gratefully buzzed.
Then their jaws shook as though the skulls would speak.
“Save us,” one screeched.
I whirled around, seeking the source of the voice.
Just as quickly, another echoed, “Save yourself.”
“No, save him!”
“Who?” I turned again and ran smack into Kiara. “Save who?”
S
