Voracia the Insatiable's Arc

Chapter 3 of 3

Voracia stopped two strides from the palace doors. Her stomach pulled at her like a fist closing on rope. She had not eaten since the dining hall, and the fight on the path had burned through what was left. Her hands shook against the spiked armor. If she walked through those doors hungry, her magic would sputter when she needed it most. Behind her, Belinda Burpwell wiped her mouth and waited. Sara Socalong stood with her arms crossed and watched the sigils burn. A voice called from the slope below. Dylan came up the path in his black polo and grey cargo pants, out of breath. He stopped in front of her and looked at the blood on her arm. "Not yet," he said. "You need to eat first. I built you something." He pointed back down the slope. A hall stood at the foot of the ridge that had not been there an hour before. Stone pillars. Long tables of glowing crystal. He had set it up while she fought. She wanted to argue. Her belly argued for her. She turned from the doors and followed him down. Inside, the table ran the length of the hall. Grotesque alien meat sat piled on platters that glowed from underneath. Dark roasts. Sliced cuts stacked like books. Bowls of fruit she did not know. Dylan pulled out the chair at the head of the table. "All yours," he said. "I'll bring more when it's gone." Voracia sat down and started with the closest roast. She ate with both hands. She did not pace herself. She tore through one platter, dragged the next one over, and kept going. Belinda watched with open respect. Sara turned away. Grease ran down Voracia's chin and onto the spikes of her armor. She finished a stack of meat, leaned back, and let out a burp that rattled the crystal tabletops and shook dust from the pillars. The air above her chest lit up. A pendant of light bloomed there, hanging from nothing, soft and bright and slow-turning. Her hands stopped shaking. The shake in her legs went too. She felt the floor of her power settle back under her, deep and full. She wiped her mouth on the back of her wrist and stood. "Better," she said. Dylan nodded once. He did not say anything else. She walked back up the slope with Belinda and Sara behind her. The palace doors were where she had left them. So was the thing inside. At the tree line to her left, a shape moved in the rocks. Black armor. Wide antlers. Malachar Bonecrusher had not gone home. He had circled back and waited for her to come out fed. He stepped onto the path with his sword in both hands and started toward her.