Tour Stop: Fiery Edge of Steel by Jill Archer Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway

[quote]               Fyrhto, I thought. My mouth went dry and my throat seized up so that swallowing was impossible. If that wasn’t this creature’s name, it should be. Waves of fear and fury pulsed from it. Whatever human shape the thing had possessed fled, leaving a massively horned, thickly tailed and scaled greenish black demon facing the crowd. But this thing’s horns weren’t only on its head. A good half dozen long ridged spirals splayed out from the top of its shoulder blades, each one ending in a tip as sharp as a lance. The thing crouched and suddenly the horn tips that had been harmlessly pointing skyward leveled at the crowd. They were lances, I thought breathlessly, wondering what it would be like to have bones that were built for battle. Behind it, the creature’s wings unfurled like leathery sails rigged with bones and sinew.




               Enraged, Jezebeth clawed deep gashes into the wooden floor of the platform, snapping his jaws and snuffling, the wet sounds in his throat at war with the dry clacking of his teeth. He tossed his head back and roared, some awful combination of hyena laugh and wild boar grunt that caused the crowd to step back even farther from the platform. A few Hyrkes turned and ran. I wanted to do the same.




               “Jezebeth”—my father’s voice boomed through the square—“you have been found guilty of murdering four human Hyrkes. Those sins are punishable by death. The Council has determined, due to the heinous nature of your sins, that your death must not only serve as punishment, but also deterrence. Your death will be needfully painful and prolonged and you will be subjected to all of the moribund degradations and dying humiliations that the traditional Carne Vale method of execution entails.”




               And then, with no more emotion than if he were signaling someone to dim the lights before a theatrical performance, Karanos gave the signal for the stoning to begin—“Exsignare.” Extinguish his signature. He looked right at me when he did it, his face unreadable. Did he regret that I had to participate? Or was he worried I’d make a poor showing and embarrass him?




               The thumping renewed with the stoning. Jezebeth’s woman was trying to reach him again. Her screams and shrieks made it clear she’d stop at nothing—even her own death, which is what approaching him while he was being stoned with waning magic would mean for a human Hyrke—to be by his side. It made me wonder what her real husband was like. It said volumes about the man who’d left her that she’d rather die by the side of this hideous creature than go back to a life with him.




               Jezebeth’s awful porcine roar turned into hoarse braying. To me, it sounded more desperate than determined. Had he even been able to control whether he changed or not?




               Maybe he was just trying to tell the woman good-bye . . .




               Jezebeth fell to his knees and I knew I couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it.




               I ran.[/quote]