Free The Labyrinth of the Dead by Sara M. Harvey Page A

muscular bodies. Spikes of bone
protruded from their forearms and hands, each one tipped with a barbed point.
    Two of them pushed through the stinging
vines as if they were honeysuckle and leaned into the gate. The metal groaned
and gave way in minutes, and the reapers came through two abreast. The
moonflower fell to the ground and was crushed underfoot.
    Portia scaled the bridge, surveying
them from the top. "They are going through an awful lot of trouble just for
me."
    "What can I say, Portia sweet? You’re one
of a kind."
    "What happens if one dies here?"
    "I have no idea, since you’re still
alive."
    Portia nodded. "Best not to risk it,
then." She crouched down and readied the axe. Closing her eyes, Portia called
on the deepest recesses of power that she usually kept divided, lest she lose
control entirely. It flowed into her waiting soul, lighting her flesh as it
came, traveling across her belly and down her legs and up her arms and out
across her wings. Her skin began to tingle, and then to glow. Her muscles twitched,
and her wings stretched wide and flexed nearly of their own accord. The
sensation was strange, as if she was not the only one whose command her body
now answered.
    I am here , spoke the voice within that Portia thought she
had merged wholly with her own.
    Are we two once more?
    No. But you have never called for all
of me before now.
    Are you ready to fight?
    She felt the angel’s soul stretch
against the bindings that tethered them together, testing and pushing. The
sensation subsided and Portia felt its satisfaction. Yes. Let them come. I
am ready.
    When Portia opened her eyes to gaze down at the
creatures below, the demon denizens began to quail before her light.

     
    —6—
     
    PORTIA WOULD hold the bridge.
    She had shed the short silk coat and left
the satchel with it on the far side. Nothing in there would afford her any help
in the fight. Dressed in only her corset and wide trousers, she could maneuver
much more easily. The air within the sanctuary was pleasant, neither cold nor
warm, but Portia could feel the chilled breeze that blew in from Salus, pouring
through the rent in the ward along with the foot soldiers of the queen.
Gooseflesh rippled down both arms.
    Invigorated by the barking commands of
their captain, the reapers lifted their sickles and advanced several steps
toward her, spoiling the ground beneath their feet as they came. She waited,
breathing deeply, storing up the power building within her. She could see their
eyes gleaming with dark mirth beneath the visors of clumsy metal helmets. The
chin straps were not even fastened. Overconfidence exuded from them as strongly
as the odor of their acetic sweat, but they did not break ranks and engage her.
    One of them
finally came forward from the rest of the group, swaggering toward the foot of
the bridge. He leaned one meaty elbow on the railing, sending a creak of
protest through the whole structure. Portia met his stare, glimpsing his
lidless eyes and reptilian mouth in the low light. He was different from the
others, his armor more elaborate and his stance radiating leadership. He
smirked, showing rows of black, needle-like teeth, every other one curved to a
fine hook at the end. These were not killers, Portia realized, they were
collectors—reapers in the true sense of the word. They brought in the harvest
of souls to their queen. And she was their prize tonight.
    "It won’t be easy," Portia told them.
"I am not so soft as I might look."
    The leader swung a fist, and two of his
fellows came at the bridge, their heavy footfalls shaking the entire thing.
They were crushed together hip to hip, barely able to fit. Portia dropped down,
tucking her wings tightly to her body and making a sweep to their ankles. The
axe blade bit deeply, divorcing one foot cleanly from its owner and eating a
gash through the other three legs. The leftmost reaper howled in pain and
lurched toward its companion, pushing them both off balance. Portia tucked