Chapter 12 #3
He sets his dark eyes on me again, points the staff, and sends his pernicious blast. I raise my hands—and the magic never hits me.
Instead, it turns back in his direction, and a wave of his arm rebounds it.
This time, it’s coming straight at me, and I keep my hands ready.
The blast stops barely inches from my skin, then goes in all directions, branding the walls with tiny carvings, as if the energy had become thousands of arrows.
The rider narrows his eyes, then steps in my direction, carrying his staff, but no longer pointing it at me. Considering he’s much taller and stronger than I am, there’s no doubt that he has no need of magic to defeat me.
His enormous hand shoves me aside, and I stumble into the wall, my shoulder scraping the stone. But as he steps past me, I shoot an arm out—and push the staff.
The mysterious object clatters on the floor behind him. He spins while I drop low and scramble for the artifact on hands and knees.
“Don’t!” he roars, a hint of fear in his voice.
My fingers close around the shaft. It’s warm, almost feverish, and faintly humming. I get up and point the artifact at him—then realize I have no idea what to do next.
Well, that was great.
Too late anyway, as he’s already reached me and is now grabbing the staff, pulling it from me.
My grip holds, and we are suddenly locked together like two children fighting over a stick.
My knuckles ache, my fingers burn, and still I hold on to the object, even if all odds are against me, even if his strength is ten times greater than mine. My hands might be white and trembling, and yet I refuse to let go.
As I’m trying as hard as I can to pull the staff, its tip becomes brilliant. He lets go of the object and takes a step back. A second later, a surge of energy heads in his direction, but he waves a hand and pushes the energy back—straight toward me.
The impact is so strong that it pushes my body back and I almost fall. Almost. I keep standing, my breath heavy, the staff still pointed at the villain—who has just reached the door of the room with the hatchlings.
Still facing me, he steps back and points a hand at the lock. I run toward him, wielding the staff as if it was a lance, ready to impale his body if needed, but he raises his other hand, palm out, and I slam to a stop against nothing, as if the air itself had gone solid in front of me.
I cannot let him steal the little dragons, so I yell from the top of my lungs, “Help!”
He points both arms to the door, but then the invisible wall in front of me disappears. As he’s distracted, trying to break into the room, I run to him and jump, tackling him and dropping us both to the floor.
For a second, the impact gives me the advantage, but then his body shifts under me, pure power unleashing all at once.
Using my own momentum against me, he rolls us over before I can react, and I find my back against the stone floor, his weight pinning me.
The staff clatters away as he captures my wrists, holding them in an iron grip above my head.
With his face close to mine, his features contorted in disgust, he asks, “Why? Why are you doing this?”
“Help!” I yell. “Someone!”
In one brief movement, he catches the staff and stands. At least now I’m the one in front of the door. Intent on wasting his time, I scramble to my feet. This close, the rider towers over me, and I know I have no chance.
He frowns and stares at me as if I was the most disgusting insect that has ever existed. “You think you’re protecting them?”
“Help!” I yell again.
He looks back at the ruined door at the entrance of the corridor, then turns to me, and swallows, something shifting in his stare.
“Then protect them.” His voice cuts like the sharpest knife, and he lets go of his magical object.
The staff clanks on the stone floor as the rider turns around and disappears through the hole where a door existed only a few minutes ago.
My heart hammers and my breath hitches as I wait for him to return, to bring another magical artifact, to change his mind and kill me. Then I stare at the staff, wondering if it has some deadly magic about to go off at any second.
He can’t simply have run, can he? It makes no sense. Tears prickle my eyes, and I don’t know if it’s fear, relief, anger, or what. My entire body trembles, and I don’t understand what happened.
But he’s gone. I sense his absence, but the feeling I get is not victory, but some strange, painful emptiness. Maybe it’s fear that he’ll return. Return with reinforcements.
It can’t have been that easy.
And what just happened? What was that magic? How could I… rebound it? Block it? Nothing makes sense.
But Ava and Vos are safe. For now, at least. The rider never reached them. A strangled breath leaves my lips. Somehow, despite all odds, I saved them.
The staff on the floor catches my eye again. Why did he leave it behind? Protect them, he said, but I don’t know if he was goading me, being sarcastic, or what.
As I try to make sense of my thoughts, steps echo beyond the hallway. I should be relieved that a group of people is finally coming, and yet my breath stills, bracing for danger.
Four guards enter the hallway, then halt when they see me. I wonder if anything in my appearance hints at what just happened. My hair’s probably a mess, and this dress looks ludicrous in this place.
“What happened here?” a guard asks.
“An intruder.” I hear my own voice as if from a distance. “He ran away.”
The guard’s eyes take in the scorched walls, the ruined door, the staff on the floor. He stiffens and barks at the others, “Intruder procedure! Alert everyone!”
Two guards are gone before I can blink. The guard who shouted crouches near the staff, examining it.
When he reaches for it, I want to stop him, as if the object was mine, but I keep my mouth shut.
His fingers barely brush the winged tip and he yanks his hand back with a pained grunt, as if he had touched hot oil.
He turns to his colleague. “Take her to the probe room.”
Ominous.