Chapter 14 The Bridge #2
Octavian didn’t argue. But the next look he cast our way was as dark as I’d ever seen on him. He gave a single reserved nod to Alastor, then turned to slice the end off of a Tendril—which released a final, shrill shriek and dissolved—before turning his attention to me.
“Marigold,” he rumbled in that deep, beautiful tone of his. “Thank you. For everything.”
And then he ran toward the light.
That left only Alastor and me, and the Tendrils were closing in.
He still had his hand around mine, holding my fist closed, but he’d also pulled out his sword and was trying to keep the shadowy tentacles from getting any closer to us.
It was a losing battle, though, and more Tendrils seemed to appear every passing second, closing in on all sides.
Pain seared across my back, my skin burning. Alastor twisted and cut through the Tendril behind me before it could strike me again, and then he tugged me closer to him.
Footsteps pounded down the steps, and three terrified faces appeared in the doorway.
I could only guess that these were the servants the brothers had mentioned, the ones that had been cursed along with them.
They were all three armed with makeshift weapons—everything from a butcher knife to an umbrella—but they hesitated when they saw the sea of Tendrils in front of them.
“Your Highness!” called the young man holding the umbrella. “What’s happening?”
Wait—did he just refer to Alastor as ‘Your Highness’?!
Alastor arced his sword through the air, his other hand digging into mine with the effort to keep holding on. “The curse is breaking. Go through the light.”
The three servants tentatively moved into the room together, and immediately one of the tentacles whipped toward them, whipping the young man’s arm. He yelped, swinging his umbrella wildly.
“The curse is trying to stop us,” Alastor said. He twisted around again, pulling me toward the servants. “I’ll help cut you a path.”
Up until that point, I’d assumed Octavian and Radven were the fighters in the group.
But it was clear that Alastor had some skills of his own.
Radven had been quick as a snake and Octavian was pure strength, but Alastor was all technique.
Not that I knew much about fighting technique, honestly—but I’d done some research for my Thrones and Kings fanfic, and Alastor slashed with the sort of perfect, expert movements that suggested he’d practiced these motions hundreds of times before.
He carved his way through the Tendrils, pulling me along with him. The brothers had claimed that the shadowy tentacles weren’t sapient, but even they seemed to fear him, cringing away from his blade and shriveling back into the ground whenever he got too close.
“Come on!” he commanded the huddled servants when we’d nearly reached them. “Quick!”
They ran across the room, swinging their makeshift weapons around them, before finally leaping into the light like the others.
Alastor dragged me along after them, and I nearly tripped as I tried to avoid a chair that was flying through the air toward the pulsing glow. A Tendril snapped toward me, whipping along my side before twisting around my wrist.
I cried out as it yanked my arm, digging into my skin like a sharp, molten manacle.
Immediately Alastor swung his sword, severing the Tendril just past where it gripped me. It shriveled and fell away, leaving raw, open welts behind.
“There’s no more time.” Alastor yanked me the rest of the way to the glowing circle. We had to dodge a wooden chest that was flying into the golden light. The ground wobbled under our feet, like the whole house was pulling itself apart around us.
Alastor twisted me around to face him, his hand still closed over mine. This close to the glowing portal, the pull on the amulet was so powerful that his strong grip was the only thing keeping it here. My own fingers were barely holding on.
For the first time, I saw something like true gratitude, even kindness in his eyes. It softened his face considerably, and it made me wonder how someone who had such tenderness inside him had come to be so brooding and angry.
“Ahsto alare’in tothla cla.”
I had no idea what those words meant, but it was clear from his tone that their meaning was significant. And then he leaned forward, and before I knew what was happening his lips were pressed against my brow.
It was so tender, so unexpected, that for a moment time seemed to slow. I never would have expected this man capable of such gentleness, but here he was, treating me like some sort of beloved, precious thing.
And when he straightened, breaking the contact, it felt like I’d lost something.
He didn’t say another word. But slowly, his eyes never leaving me, he uncurled his hand from around mine, grasped the amulet firmly in his own grip, then stepped backwards into the light.
Sadness fluttered in my chest. I’d only known these men a couple of days—and I wasn’t even sure I knew them now—but they’d introduced me to a world of mystery and wonder that I didn’t want to lose just yet.
In helping them return home, I’d sent them away from me forever. It felt silly to mourn them, but I did—it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and pulled into the portal alongside them. It was like—
Pain slashed across my back, knocking me to my hands and knees.
I gasped, then gasped again as more burning pain sliced up the back of my left arm. Then my right calf muscle. Something wrapped itself around my ankle, hssssssing through my jeans and into my skin.
The Tendrils were still here.
I’d assumed they would disappear once the brothers had escaped through the light. But they hadn’t—and now there were no blades to cut them back.
Another Tendril wrapped around my left elbow, tugging me off balance as it raised welts on my skin. I screamed in pain and rage and panic, clawing at it with my other hand. It seared my fingers and my palm, but I was able to tear it free.
All around me, the Tendrils kept coming, burning and whipping, trying to catch me wherever they could. The one around my ankle tightened while another twisted around my opposite thigh. The tentacle I’d just pulled off my elbow found another grip around my upper arm.
This is it. I’m going to die after all.
And then, out of the corner of my eye, something flashed.
I twisted my head. There was a piece of broken glass on the ground—possibly from the huge window, which was no longer visible behind the huge glowing circle of light. It wasn’t much, but it was sharp, and that’s what mattered.
With my free arm, I reached out and grabbed the shard of glass. It was just large enough to serve as a small blade, and I curled my fingers around the end of it, grinding my teeth against the pain as it dug into the welt-covered skin of my palm.
And then I slashed.
First I cut through the one on my arm. Then I twisted around and severed the ones gripping my legs. Once those had fallen away, shrieking as they dissolved, I slashed wildly through the air, trying to force back any others that came near.
But I’d only earned myself a temporary reprieve. When I managed to get myself into a crouch so I could plan my escape, I found the room overrun.
Where before there’d been dozens, there were now at least a hundred Tendrils, and they completely blocked my path to the door. Even with a real weapon I’d never have been able to make it through.
Once again, the certainty of death set in. I didn’t even have the presence of mind to dodge the boot that came flying through the air toward the golden light. It struck me on the side of the head before bouncing off and disappearing through the portal.
Wait—the portal.
Slicing through a couple of Tendrils who reached for me, I turned back to look at the circle of light. That light led out of here. To another world, yes, but away from certain death.
…toward still-likely death, my mind finished.
I wasn’t from Therador, so there was no guarantee that the light would let me through.
Or that I would survive being magically transported to another world.
Hell, there was a chance I’d simply go right through the window and plummet to my death on the rocks in the bay below.
While I was considering this, a Tendril I hadn’t noticed whipped down from the ceiling and coiled around my throat.
Immediately, my vision went blurry. The skin of my neck burned as my breath cut off and panic set in. I gasped for air, but the end of the Tendril curled up around my jaw and into my mouth, blocking what remained of my airway.
It’s your silence I fear.
With every second that passed, my vision went darker and my pulse grew louder in my ears, until it felt like I was in the middle of a rushing maelstrom. I writhed, clawing at the Tendril with my fingers before I remembered the glass in my other hand.
I jabbed recklessly with the shard of glass, even grazing myself once or twice, as darkness closed in around me.
And then—so suddenly I almost stabbed myself right in the jugular—the Tendril fell away, letting out an ear-splitting shriek as it dissolved into nothingness.
I gasped, but there was no time to catch my breath. There was no time to even think. There was only one choice.
I closed my eyes and jumped through the portal.