Chapter 28
Therefore, do not forsake the Thirteen. But pray that they would guide you. For only with the acceptance of all the Constellations can you truly be whole.
The Empyrean Scrolls (Remnants of the holy text)
THE FOREST BLURRED AS ORION sped through the trees, branches catching on Astraia’s hair and twigs snapping under thundering hooves. Her heartbeat drummed in sync with his hooves, quickening with every passing moment they fled from the wraiths.
Caelan raced beside her, winding through the trees as a hawk would glide through the air. She dared a glance back, praying to the Stars they could outrun the demons and their wicked steeds.
But red eyes bore into hers, black shadow and unnatural flames licking the forest as they moved in tandem. The wraiths glided over the earth, like water over rocks in a stream, leaving only fire and ash in their wake.
Whipping her head back around, Astraia lowered her body closer to Orion’s, shouting in earnest. “Faster, Orion!”
Orion’s nostrils flared, and he neighed back at her, then his pace quickened.
Faster and faster, her black stallion soared.
Her cloak gave way, and her hair billowed in the wind, eyes watering as they flew.
Orion overtook Caelan’s horse, leading their retreat southwest, out of the woods and closer to Volpes.
But even Orion could not outrun the undead Nyrekh forever. They had to find a way to lose them.
Astraia’s bonds heated, thrumming under her skin, as if in response to her question, but fear clouded her thoughts. She nearly succumbed to burnout before—nearly died. Now, there were two wraiths. Two stewards of Dominion bent on destruction.
A low, rough voice cut through her fear, slamming it out of her mind.
You are stronger than your bonds.
Her pulse slowed, the loud heartbeat in her ears softened, and her bonds heated at the sound of his voice.
For years she had been running, fleeing from heartache, accepting condemnation.
But the time of running was over. Scars had been forged in the darkness, but now it was time to fight shadows with light.
Ahead, the trees thinned, opening up into rolling grassland.
The sun was low in the sky, casting a warm orange glow over the terrain as they galloped onward.
She breathed deeply, welcoming the reprieve from the suffocating woods, then glanced sideways at Caelan, who had managed to keep pace with them.
As if sensing her stare, he peered over at her, his dark hair ruffled in the wind. Just as they blew past the last of the trees into the open field, she smiled at him. His eyes went wide as she turned Orion to the right, then came around in a wide circle.
She yanked on the reins, Orion’s hooves skidding to a stop.
He reared, but she remained mounted, glaring at the advancing wraiths.
Shadows poured out of the trees, crashing onto the green grass like waves on the beaches of her home.
Sparks flew as the Nyrekh’s hooves pounded the earth, blazing through the trees until the wraiths spotted the lone rider and halted.
Their steeds shrieked, breathing black smoke as the wraiths assessed her.
Astraia breathed deeply, then dove straight down into the depths of her mind.
She wasted no time, extending her hand and compelled her tether to appear.
The golden thread glowed, falling into her hand and extending into the expanse above her mind.
She pulled, and the thread held fast to the glowing light in her mind—the Stars.
Anchored, she opened the gates to her bonds, letting Power and Sacrifice flood into her hands. White and blue light flared from her fingertips, her face, her eyes—her entire body was aflame in the bonds of the Constellations. Her body pulsed with warmth, aching to be unleashed onto the demons.
Leaping from Orion’s saddle, she grabbed her Celestial bow and drew an arrow, aiming directly at a pair of glowing red eyes.
She channeled Power, forcing it to flow into the bow and her arrow, from fletching to tip.
Holding her breath, she steadied her hands.
Sounds muffled, her vision cleared until she could see the molten cracks in the wraith’s ashen skin, fire bubbling from beneath.
Time slowed.
Exhaling, her fingers flexed and released. White light crackled, trailing the arrow as it cleaved the air, hungry to meet its mark. A loud snap, followed by a flash of brilliant light, and time lurched back.
Astraia inhaled sharply, blinking as the brilliance faded, and an ear-splitting wail rattled the trees.
Her arrow was lodged in the red eye of a wraith, white light drilling into his skull.
A black armored hand reached up in a feeble attempt to remove the arrow, only to wrench it back again when more light exploded with the slightest touch.
Her Power bond had sunk its claws into the demon and would not relent.
Unable to pluck out the arrow, the wraith convulsed, shrieking in agony until it collapsed and fell from his shadow steed with a crash. Smoke fanned out on impact, and the ground vibrated as the demon met earth, writhing in pain.
The other wraith bellowed, screeching and spewing words in its demonic language toward Astraia. It drew its boardsword, glowing red and sparking, then kicked the Nyrekh into a gallop, straight for her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Caelan turn his horse around and speed toward her, sword drawn, but she did not break focus from the fight before her.
Seconds blurred as the steward of Dominion charged.
Astraia’s core tightened, her stance wide and grounded.
Grabbing another arrow from her quiver, she took aim, steadying her breath.
She tugged tighter on her golden tether, allowing it to strengthen and opened her bond gates wider, letting the warmth spread through her ligaments and sinew.
Her scalp prickled with the surge of her bond, and her eyes glowed white.
A wave of control washed over her as she willed her bond into the arrow tip, pulling her bow taut, and with an exhale, released.
Another blaze of light, and her arrow was soaring toward the wraith, defying the winds as it wove through the sky.
The wraith roared, raising its sword acting as a shield, but it was too late.
The arrow slid past the iron and straight into the side of the demon’s ashen neck.
Thick black liquid exploded from the wound as white light bore into smoking flesh.
The wraith screamed, its roar garbled, gore filling its mouth. It clawed at the arrow, but Power flared even stronger with every attempt.
Unable to maintain control of the undead steed, the Nyrekh veered off course, and the wraith careened off its back, falling in a heap on the grassy field only a few steps from Astraia. The grass singed where the wraith collapsed, black smoke unfurling from around the monster.
She gasped, finally able to draw breath again, and began to step toward the wraith.
“Astraia, stop! What are you doing?” Caelan shouted, bringing his horse up behind her.
“They must be stopped, Caelan, no matter the cost.” She kept walking toward the fallen wraith, slinging her bow on her back.
It lay on its side, head covered in a tattered black cloak. It did not stir, did not draw breath. A pool of tar-like blood seeped into the earth around its head, killing the grass instantly. Wisps of black smoke still rose from the body, as though it still burned even in death.
She stepped beside the demon, and smoke filled her lungs. Diving into her mind, she grasped her tether again firmly in one hand and stretched her bond further, willing it to yield. White light flared around her entire body.
The field around her was bathed in brilliant light, overtaking the sun’s setting rays. Channeling her bond, she focused on the image of a blade in her mind and felt the hilt form in her grasp. A crackling sound reverberated in her ears as the sword took shape.
Grasping it firmly in both hands, she held it over her head, ready to deliver the final definitive blow—
Just as a gloved hand, draped in shadow, shot to the sky and grabbed her throat.
Gasping, she tried to pry the wraith’s hand off her neck, but it was no use. He turned his head to face her, red eyes ablaze and black blood oozing from its mouth. Despite his wounds, the wraith’s grip did not loosen.
She tried to kick the demon, but she could not feel her toes. She was suffocating at the hand of the wraith, spots dancing before her eyes. Her bonds zipped through her spine, Sacrifice attempting to heal her crushed windpipe and Power trying to escape and destroy.
But she could not focus on channeling her bonds, and her glowing blade winked out.
Just as the world began to fade to black, a giant tree root burst from the ground and curled around the wraith’s arm. Tighter and tighter it curled until the wraith could no longer hold its grip on her, and it screamed, releasing her neck.
She fell to her knees, struggling to draw breath, her vision slowly clearing.
“Move, Astraia!” Caelan roared. He was standing beside her, his hands outstretched. His body was alight with a green glow, pulsing into the earth around them—his green eyes alight with his Desire bond.
He clenched both of his outstretched hands into fists, and the root around the wraith’s arm squeezed violently, crushing the arm into pieces.
The wraith screamed again, but Caelan did not relent. With another flick of his hand, a second root slammed up through the back of the wraith’s head, straight through its open mouth. More black ooze burst from the wraith, dripping down the root.