As soon as the chariot is on its way, the Watchers circle Flyer, who is lying on the ground. His back is clearly broken, by the look of the unnatural bend of his body.

His head shifts back and forth on the ground, so I assume he’s alive. But as we lean over him, the shifting motion of his head becomes more and more wrong.

His neck tears, bubbling blood.

I jump back.

Teeth gnaw out from the inside of Flyer’s neck, quickly chewing through. A Consumed whip head covered in blood emerges from Flyer’s neck.

I look away, wishing I could wipe out what I just saw. From the edge of my vision, I see Cyclone grab a rock and hoist it above his head. Then I hear a wet crunch.

Everyone’s shoulders seem to slump at the same time.

‘You have to get us out of here, Commander,’ says Hawk with heavy sadness in his voice. ‘This isn’t how we were meant to die.’

Chapter 40

40

We move out of the area before the other Pit lords arrive. Some of us walk, while some of us fly low and scout ahead.

I keep expecting someone to ask about my sword, but no one does. The Watchers seem a little shell-shocked after seeing Flyer die. It’s like tragedy happens too often yet they still can’t accept it.

The broken street we’re on ends abruptly as the town ruins disintegrate into a rocky desert. I keep an eye out for hellions to catch along the way, but I don’t see any. They must have either run off or been recruited to fight for the Pit lords when they were gathering to come at us.

The sky is changing into what I guess is the equivalent of daylight here. Instead of the purple black I’d seen earlier, there’s now a red glow casting a fiendish tint over the desert – not quite night, not quite day.

One of the Watchers sighs beside me. ‘Most of us made it through another night.’

‘Let’s go back into that street tonight,’ says another. ‘Safer there.’

I throw them a sidelong glance. They have fresh gashes across their faces and arms. One of them is limping and bleeding from a missing chunk out of his leg.

‘How long have you guys been here?’ I ask.

The guys give me weary looks as if to say forever.

‘No idea,’ says one. ‘Since before I was born, I think.’

We walk onto an outcropping of rocks. The desert is full of weird rock towers spiraling up to the red sky, twisted and tortured. In the distance, there are ruins of cities. One of them is on fire, with black smoke rising to the sky.

‘What are those?’ I ask. ‘Are they cities?’

‘Once,’ says Thermo. ‘They’re just death traps now. They used to be hellion cities.’