38. Harper
38
HARPER
A edon swore, only to be drowned out by Erika’s screech of rage. Brand landed beside her, slamming into the ground, and bodily held her back to prevent her from leaping toward the elf. Everything around them ceased. Even goblins cowed before Saradon. Bedraggled, injured dwarves flinched away. Their battle-weary brethren gripped weapons tighter, but grave faces poorly masked their apprehension.
Harper stilled, captivated by Saradon, whose penetrating gaze swept the cave. Part of her felt fear, just as the rest of them did, but it was different for her. He is my kin . It felt strange, abhorrent. Shadows moved beside him. A figure emerged. And time stopped for Harper. Harper’s jaw slipped open, and her eyes widened. She knew that silhouette before he stepped into the light.
No.
The clean cut of his dark, fitted robes.
No, no, no.
The dark, disdainful frown.
It cannot be!
Her fragmented attention collided full force with Dimitrius, as though he pulled her in, as though he were the centre of her world. The very individual she knew that she ought to never see again—but the one individual she had secretly wanted to cross paths with more than anything. But not like this. Not there. Idle magic danced in Dimitrius’s palms as he stood beside Saradon and beheld them all—but the blood drained from his face as he found her in the chaos, as though his attention too had been magnetised to her by some force greater than either of them. Without a doubt, it was him. Even if he had a twin, she would have known him by the way he so clearly recognised her.
Korrin’s horn sounded the retreat, and the wave of dwarves turned, running toward the tunnel. Aedon, Harper, and Erika followed suit, swept along by the tide. Saradon attacked. Magic arced toward them, blasting aside goblins and dwarves alike. They were hurled into rocks, smashed into pits, or smote where they stood, falling to the ground in a jumbled tangle of blackened limbs.
It broke the spell. Harper wrenched her gaze from Dimitrius’s and turned, even though every part of her wanted to move towards him, not away. The area became a stampede as dwarves lowered their heads and sprinted toward the tunnel. The thunder of their charge jarred until Harper could hear nothing else. The injured were dragged along, held upright by the crush; otherwise, they would not have made it out alive.
Aedon pushed through the bodies to one side, resisting the flow. When his hand ripped from hers, Harper turned back, swept forward inexorably. What is he doing? With a determined look, he forged back down the passage and flattened himself against the wall, holding out of everyone’s way. With a great rumble, the mountain shuddered beneath their feet. Aedon’s complexion whitened, and every muscle coiled in his body as he fought to channel enough magic. He attempted to break the stone—to bring the mountain down upon them! She paled. He could not face it alone.
“Erika!” she screamed. The woman turned, and Harper jabbed her pointed finger back at the elf.
Erika immediately understood. “I will defend you! Go!”
Harper pushed through the throng of dwarves with Erika on her heels, and rushed to Aedon’s side, grasping his blood and dirt covered hand to lend her magic to him. He drew from her hungrily, slowly pulling at the very energy of the rock and worming himself between every crack he could find. She wove with him, prising open fissures deep in the rock, weakening, pulling, as the last dwarves cleared the doorway and her vision blurred.
The stone cracked and split around them, the sound jarring their ears. Aedon started running, pulling her along with one hand as he snagged Erika with the other. The magic snapped free, and the rumble grew.
“Run!” he bellowed, as the tunnel collapsed behind them.
Harper ran as fast as her burning legs could carry her, while the thundering stone avalanche chased them toward the thirl door. The rumbling slowed as the cave diminished behind them, but Aedon did not reduce his speed.
“We’re the last!” he shouted as they broke into the fresh air, a cloud of dirt and rocks puffing out behind them. Harper breathed deeply, coughing on the choking dust.
The thirl door slammed shut behind them, and Korrin sealed it once more with his touch. “Come. We must flee at once,” he growled. “We will only be safe when we return to Keldheim.”
Long into the night they ran, without stopping, knowing Saradon would not be far behind. Harper staggered until her muscles were numb, her feet blocks of stone, and her chest burned. It was not only Saradon’s eyes chasing her in the waking nightmare they endured, but Dimitrius’s.
Why is he here? Why is he with Saradon? What is he plotting?
She had no answers. But the depths of Dimitrius’s betrayal—of the person she thought she had known—sheared through her chest.