Free Memories of Ash (The Sunbolt Chronicles Book 2) by Intisar Khanani Page B

The shock of it — the metal-gray sheen, the thwack against stone — sends me stumbling forward, unfreezing my muscles.
    I sprint down the road, putting all I have into running, my lungs burning. Behind me, the noise of the creature’s progress grows into a rumbling, grinding roar. The strange ripples in the pavers I noticed earlier seem not so inexplicable now.
    It growls, a deafening sound that reverberates through my body, like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It may be huge, but it’s fast and, I bet, hungry. The mage clutches his side, a step ahead of me now. Nor will I be able to continue this fast much farther. Neither of us can outrun this thing.
    I do the one thing I can think of — I leap through the window of the building next to me, shouting for the mage to follow. He wheels around and clambers over the sill a moment later, his breath coming in short, pained gasps as he drops to the floor.
    “This way.” I pull a glowstone from my pocket and raise it high enough to bring an exit into focus. We barrel through the room toward the hallway. I barely register the eerie emptiness of the place — no cloth, no furniture, no doors — only the shriveled remains of people scattered here and there like fallen autumn leaves.
    The creature howls, an ear-splitting sound of fury. Its tentacles scrabble through the window behind us, stabbing into corners in search of its prey. Boots skidding over the gritty floor, I plunge into the central corridor and find salvation: stairs.
    I don’t say anything, half hoping the mage will choose a different route, but he follows on my heels. I take the stairs two and three at a time, far more worried about the horrific creature behind us.
    As we reach the landing, the beast finds the front entry and a mass of tentacles fly down the hall toward us, smashing against the walls and scrabbling up the stairs. I continue up the next flight, the mage panting out curses in a language I don’t know. At the end of the hall, I see a window, but it’s already filling with tentacles. What is this creature?
    As I turn to ascend the final set of stairs to the roof, something flashes past the window, bright as the midday sun. Magic. I’m not sure what being could work magic in such a place as this, but the pureness of the light gives me hope. I scramble upwards as the tentacles whip down the hall, talons gouging the staircase.
    The mage behind me falters, boots sliding. He’s barely three steps ahead of the creature. It’ll have him in a heartbeat, and he’ll die.
    And he’s only here because of me.
    I lunge to grab his arm and haul him to the landing. He fastens his fingers around my wrist, pulling himself out of reach of the claws behind him. They scrape blindly at the bottom of the stairs, ripping up chunks of stone, but they can’t get any closer.
    “Up,” I say, releasing him and turning toward the next step.
    He doesn’t let go of me.
    My gaze snaps to his, fear prickling my fingers and making my legs feel strange. “No,” I whisper. “Don’t—”
    “It needs a meal,” the mage says, voice rasping, “and it won’t be me.” He yanks me off balance. I cry out, jerking away from him and lashing out with my glowstone. I manage to smack him hard across the face, but then his boot comes between my feet. For a sickening moment I teeter on the edge of the stairs.
    Get back!
    I barely register the words ringing in my mind before the mage shoves me, hard. I swallow a scream, throwing my arms up to shield my head as I fall. I slam down the stairs, bouncing toward the mass of tentacles.
    Feet first — get your feet first!
    I follow the shouted advice mindlessly, twisting my body as I come to a stop amidst a tangle of three or four great tentacles.
    Don’t move.
    Someone is talking inside my head, and it’s not me. Somehow, that’s almost worse than lying surrounded by the talons of a nightmare monster. Almost.
    I lie still, trying not to give in to panic, to flail my way back up to