Chapter 40 A Panicked Escape of Explosions and Wings
Em’s Subtitle: Shit Blows Up
How did you know he was there?” Em staggered onto her feet as her stomach churned at the gory sight.
The limp, impaled orc stared lifelessly at her past its bleeding eyes before she shoved it off the edge of the stairs into the depths of the tower below.
The pop of flesh and guts sent a waft of rotten meat throughout the entire chamber.
She gagged, choking both on disgust and panic as she took in the grisly sight ahead.
Another handful of orcs were howling and clamoring down the stairs from Kriqir’s lair overhead, cleavers drawn and yellow eyes reflecting in their torchlight.
Roden swept through the orc ranks, swinging his short sword and using his broad wingspan to knock the unfortunate monsters over the ledge.
More screeches of doomed, falling orcs echoed throughout the tower before being cut off with a slap of body-on-ground.
The stench of blood and smoke slowly seeped through the frigid air.
“I have night vision,” Roden grunted as he struggled with a particularly stubborn orc.
With a snap and whiz, Gair shot an arrow over Em’s head up straight into its neck.
The orc dropped uselessly at Roden’s feet, spluttering on blood as it seized to death, and for a brief second, both guys shot each other a relieved grin.
“Hurry, Em, we can’t wait around,” her best friend said.
An explosion.
The whole tower shook, loose shards of rock spraying off the walls, dead orc armor clattering as the bodies of Roden’s victims rolled down the stairs, taking the smoldering torches with them as darkness swept over reality again.
Em’s teeth chattered inside her skull, every bone and joint in her body trembling as a massive force quaked through reality. All sense of sound was shredded from her ears except for ringing tinnitus. Searing aching pain spread through her skull.
From the nearest thin windows, bright colors, smoke, and fireworks burst through the skies. Ming’s distraction.
Em felt herself screaming her throat raw, but pressure held her down despite her best efforts to stand on her agonizing legs. Her knees were bleeding, stars flickered in the edges of her blinded vision, and everything hurt.
A steady hand braced her.
She met Gair’s aquamarine gaze and nearly melted into his hold as they fought to stay upright together.
Blast after blast exploded outside the tower as Novella quelled under the havoc Ming had caused. Stray sparks spit through the windows and bit into her skin. Stinging pain sweltered on her arms. She slapped at herself to put the fire out before it burned through her clothes.
In a rush of wind, Roden swooped down and shielded them both with his wings. They all clung to each other, sheltered in the half-elf’s bat wings.
I need you to blow up the whole damn forest, Em had told the mentor in training while Polo applied an endless layer of blush to her cheeks.
Everything? A pyromaniac glint caught in the Tiefling girl’s eye.
Everything. If there’s a chance Kriqir has backup soldiers hiding in those woods, they need to be burnt to a fucking crisp, Em had said. But I need you to create the explosion so specific that it doesn’t hurt or even singe any of our own troops.
I’ll try my best. Ming had saluted her.
Polo’s giggling attempt at an innuendo joke she’d ignored echoed in the depths of the memory.
“EM!” Gair’s scream snapped her back into reality.
All around her, the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower was burning.
Shit shit shit. Em smeared smoky tears from her eyes and coughed as her sense of hearing drowned her in a deafening, chaotic roar of howling, burning orcs and snapping timber. Scorching, rotting flesh smelt worse than just leaked orc guts.
Gair tugged at her arm, leading her toward the upper rafters of the stairs, while Roden circled through the smoke on his wings, searching for another way out. Behind them, where they sent orcs toppling down the stairs, beams had fallen, blocking their path.
They were trapped.
Fuck.
“Is our army okay?” she shouted at Roden over the blazing roar of crackling flames.
“There’s no time, princess!” he yelled back.
“If the tower is burning, I need to know Sasha and Polo are okay!” Em screamed at the half-elf as he glided about the burning rubble, shoving against the stone walls for a weak point. He hesitated, his violet eyes meeting hers, wide with panic.
“If I leave you behind, I might not be able to get back in,” Roden said.
“Please, I have to know they’re okay and that Ming didn’t just accidentally kill half of Novella!” Em begged.
“I’ve got her, Trislee,” Gair added. “I can’t burn. I can shield her with my body until you get back if need be.”
Roden’s grimace only twisted more as he glanced between the best friends, clearly more annoyed at the idea of Gair covering Em physically with his body than the fact they were trapped in a burning tower.
“Fuck, Roden, go!” Em screamed.
Without another word, the half-elf swept away into the smoky abyss, vanishing higher into the Cursed-But-Once-Uncursed-Tower. No doubt, he’d found a hole in the roof somewhere to escape. At least the rupture would help filter out the thick, black smoke.
Sparks and flames closed in quickly. Heat sucked sweat off her body, and Em had to tear her cloak off as the hem began to burn.
“C’mon, Em!” Gair yanked at her arm again.
They ran, guiding and bracing each other as the burning tower tried to swallow them alive.
Dodging falling rock or burning splinters, they fled up the spiral staircase.
Distant orc howls haunted the chaos, adding tension to the panic, but none of the monsters showed face.
It was just Em stumbling over her torn skirts with an arm hooked over her best friend’s shoulder, escaping a fiery death.
She tried to squeeze her eyes and block out the reeking scent of burnt flesh, but nothing stopped the raging nightmare of flames around her. This wasn’t the plan—shit, Ming, what did you do?
Finally, her feet found flat ground.
The top of the tower.
Em peered over her shoulder as the roaring flames snaked up the stairs behind her.
Heat licked at her from all sides, sweltering and awakening blisters along any of her exposed skin.
She looked ahead at the unfortunate, locked door to Kriqir’s lair.
They pulled and yanked and shoved against it a few times, all element of surprise long gone, but the door wouldn’t budge.
Gair pulled her into a hug, his warm cedarwood scent comforting, despite how soaked with sweat they both were. “Do you trust me?” he shouted into her ear over the crack of burning beams and howls of orcs being burnt alive to a crisp.
“Why?” Em took in the unusual sureness in his gaze. His hand cupped against her cheek, and in the face of death, she leaned into the comfort of his callused touch.
“The tower is stone!” Gair pulled her closer, physically shielding her as the flames around them grew higher and more intense.
She tucked her head into the crook of his neck to shield her face from the growing heat.
The burning sear of the licking fire bit at her skin, and she could smell the stink of her singed hair.
“Once everything flammable burns, it will all smother out,” her best friend said into her ear, his body trembling against her like he was using every ounce of strength to keep her pressed into him.
Despite the heat, none of the fire reached her skin.
Nothing but Gair surrounded her, close and tight and safe.
She pressed further into his hold. For once, her trope of being short was in her favor—he was bigger than her, fully shielding her from the flames with his body.
“The door is made of wood; it will eventually burn too!” Gair went on.
Her mind clicked. They could wait the fires out.
She nestled closer to him in the relief of his safety.
In a whirlwind of furious commotion, the last spark eventually simmered out. The fires became mere embers, and the final ashy remains of the door lair crumpled into mere dust. The incinerated entrance to Kriqir’s lair sat as a gawking hole behind them, waiting for their next move.
Gair and Em untangled from each other, shivering from the shock, taking in the smoking scenery. The dim glow of live coals flickered throughout the tower, winds shrieked in the desolate rafters overhead, and the night sky peered at them through the veil of fumes.
“You okay?” Em asked.
“Just fine.” Gair patted himself down; not even his clothing had burned.
Maybe it was the previous life-threatening hysteria, but his golden hair was ruffled just so, and the way soot smeared along his extenuated muscles enhanced him.
Em had never seen her best friend look so hot before.
That inner heat filled her belly, and she swallowed back the urge to kiss him.
Not now.
Diving down in a whoosh, Roden returned, also streaked in ash. Except, his bat wings had been crisped along the edges, and his bare chest was welting in red blotches. He glanced between them both, gasping and heaving as he leaned on the doorway to catch his breath.
“They’re alive,” the half-elf wheezed, somehow still shooting Em a relieved smirk at the sight of her unsinged. “No one but us and the orcs were hurt. That crazy intern somehow controlled most of the explosion.”
“Thank Novella,” Em slumped onto the floor, raking her fingers through her frazzled hair. She clutched at the relic in her pocket again. All wasn’t lost.
The growl of an orc sent goosebumps along her neck. She jerked upright in time to see the wrinkly monsters prowl from the burnt lair doorway, cleavers in hand.
Shit.
Of course, Kriqir had backups.
“Roden…” she barely had time to warn.
In a flash, the orcs pounced at them with howling roars.
Em screamed, rolling away.
Gair drew his knives and blocked the orcs from reaching her, and with a swoop of his wings, Roden charged from the other side. The spray of blood and clamor of grinding metal flooded the scene.
A stray spear slammed into the wall beside her, quivering.
All she could do was nervously laugh, crawling away.
Em yanked Destiny’s Song from her belt, the blue glow of the prophecy blade almost comforting.
She barely had a chance to test the balanced weight of the blade before an orc launched itself at her.
With a yelp, she twisted away and jerked her sword into its side.
The squish of stabbed flesh yanked through her arm as she pulled away, and the gored orc collapsed at her feet.
Blood soaked into her boots, and Em dry-heaved again as viscera leaked from where she’d stabbed.
“Well, look who found her courage,” Roden shouted over the chaos as he slammed his sword through an orc’s throat. Blood splattered across his bare chest, but the half-elf barely flinched.
“I’m literally trying not to barf,” Em gagged again. Her innards churned in agreement.
“You can do it, princess!” Roden laughed, whirling onto his next victim. “Just don’t swing overhead like you did during the Heir Trials. It’ll leave an opening for you to be stabbed.”
“Stabbed?” Nausea spun her head.
“If you can steal your entire story from a Great Author and out-dual Sasha, you can kill an orc,” the half-elf went on.
Fuck this shit. Holding her breath, she joined in the fight. Slashing, hacking, and stabbing, Destiny’s Song guided her hands to kill any orcs who dared come too close. Warm stickiness slickened her fingers, but she clung to the sword hilt like her life depended on it and fought on.
“How many of these suckers are there?” Gair grunted from the center of the struggle, trying to fend off the incoming waves of orcs pouring through the lair’s doorway. His knives screeched against the orc armor or thrust into soft flesh.
“I don’t know, but I need to get inside as soon as possible!” Em shouted. She tried to hack her way past the orcs charging her, jumping between swings or jabs to try to see over the sea of monster heads. She was running out of time.
Hurry.
Em charged with a battle cry and lunged at an orc attacking Gair.
She drove her heavy blade into its back, grunting as she pushed.
The orc gargled, spitting blood, and she shrieked in disgust, before pulling her sword free.
The creature collapsed with a crunch underfoot, only to be trampled by her next opponent.
Em shuddered, her arms aching as she allowed Destiny’s Song to guide her hand and hack through orc after orc.
Blood oozed between her fingers, soaking the front of her dress, and her stomach stirred to call her dinner back up.
But she swallowed the bile down, tightened her stance, and swung at another orc charging her.
It carelessly sliced its dagger through the air, giving her the advantage.
She ducked under its muscular arm and sent the orc toppling with a large hole in its chest.
“I need a clearing!” she shouted to her companions. “Before Kriqir gets away!”
“Trying our best here, princess!” Roden retorted between grunts.
“He’s going to fucking escape!” She screamed over the howls and splatter of shredded flesh. “A cliché villain always flees! Kriqir knows I have the relic, so he’s going to run while we’re distracted.”
“Well, unless you can magically explode these orcs like last time, we’re fairly encumbered!” Roden yelled back.
Stephanie, save me. Em swore under her breath, risked her plot armor, and lunged headfirst into the throngs of orcs.
Their crammed bodies, dense armor, and stench swallowed her whole as she wriggled to slip through the tightly packed ranks.
Something jabbed into her back, and she yelped, only to have her shoulder cut by a passing cleaver.
Her lungs screamed for air, pressure squeezing her from all sides.
She tottered and tumbled forward, the echoes of her friends’ shouts muffled in the ear-piercing howl of angry orcs.
Eventually, she staggered free. Right into Kriqir’s lair.
Em collapsed across the stony ground, any remaining air knocked clear out of her. Chimes rang through her skull, and whiteness blinded her vision as she moaned, rolling onto her back. The dragon relic ground into her hip, sending agony through her pelvis.
As everything blurred back into focus, a pair of pale eyes beneath a silvery mask leered down over her.
“Fool,” Kriqir cackled.
Em’s heart skipped a beat.
His drawn sword pricked at her throat.
Fuck.