CHAPTER THREE
“So,” Rafferty remarked, his voice echoing somewhere to Evylin’s left, “this is the Night Keep, huh? Seems a little on the nose, if you ask me.”
Darkness wholly surrounded Evylin. She felt like she’d had a blanket thrown over her head, engulfing her in black. Then she realized it wasn’t black at all.
The deepest, most saturated purple beamed around her. The shift from unfathomable brightness into the deepest depths of darkness felt like hitting a wall head-on. All her senses were out of order, trying to make sense of this collision.
Evylin tried to gather her bearings, working to form some concept of where she was and what surrounded her, but she struggled to trust her senses.
“I can’t see a damn thing,” Thom grumbled toward the front of the group.
A cautious step sounded to Evylin’s immediate left. “The pedestal should be right before us,” Deckard whispered.
“Don’t move,” Auden hissed. “I can sense the Guardian.”
Ethenn’s bow creaked as he drew it back. “Where?” he whispered.
“I’m not sure,” Auden replied. “Its presence is here, but I can’t pinpoint it.”
Grappling for control of her magic, Evylin tried to reach out and sense the Guardian’s location. Surely if Auden could feel it, she could too. But as she stared into the dark of Night, all she saw was more of that all-encompassing purple pitch.
“You know,” Rafferty murmured, “you’ll have to move at some point. If you want to get that Relic, I mean.”
The lowest, ominous rumble rolled out from the Chamber in response.
Evylin went to raise her blade, but it knocked against something. “Careful,” Deckard whispered, causing her to blanch.
“We have to spread out,” she suggested quietly. “If that thing is about to attack, we can’t fight all bunched up on this dais.”
“Why hasn’t it attacked yet?” Rafferty asked louder than Evylin would like. “Not that I’m complaining. It just seems to be its job.”
As though offended by the suggestion of its lax security, a sudden thundering ricocheted through the room. Heavy impacts shook the floor, vibrating into Evylin’s feet. Whatever the Guardian was, wherever it was coming from, its hesitation was over.
“Move!” Deckard commanded, eliciting an instant flurry of movement from the troop.
The plan was in motion—the Calders would get the Relic, and the Ephrians would defend. However, they hadn’t accounted for doing it all in the dark. She heard the shuffle of her troop moving into defensive positions just before Thom collided with Ilain.
“Now is not the time, darling,” she quipped through gritted teeth.
The Guardian’s hammering steps were almost upon them, and from what Evylin could tell, none of them were any more prepared to defend the Calders than before.
As Evylin shifted to take up the front line, she ran straight into something very hard and very immovable.
It hit her just above the hips, causing her to heave a grunt as she put out a hand to steady herself.
Her palm fell on an unstable object that shifted under her touch.
A sharp tingle sparked up her arm. The object slipped across the smooth surface beneath it, a flash of amethyst light filling her vision.
As Evylin realized what had happened, the object flew off the pedestal, and she rolled her eyes at the darkness. “I found the Relic,” she called.
The roar of the Guardian—a guttural, almost growl-like sound—preceded the blind attacks of Deckard and Rafferty.
“Wonderful,” Auden replied, several steps to her left. “Give it to me.”
Evylin grimaced. “It’s on the floor.”
Before the Mage could respond, the ground under Evylin shook with even greater fury.
The Guardian rammed into the dais, and all of them as a result.
Thrown back, Evylin reached out to catch herself.
Her sword clattered to the marble floor.
Chaos erupted around her as they scrambled away from the beast’s attack.
Senses still fuzzy from being sightless, Evylin closed her eyes.
She had to stop fighting the darkness. When they went through the Day Keep and the Shades burst into blinding flashes of light, she could only rely on senses other than sight.
Night was the mirror of Day. If it worked there, it would work here too.
Absorbing the harried sounds of her teammates around her, the cool marble beneath her hands, and the crisp scent of night, Evylin embraced it. All that Night was, she took into herself.
Terror. Panic. Pain.
Stillness. Rest. Security.
That was the dichotomy of Night. It was horrifying. It was restoring. And Evylin felt it down to her bones.
In the split second it took to tap into her powers, the Guardian—whatever it was—began its second assault.
Evylin sensed it raise its giant feet, and she rolled away on instinct.
The ground trembled as its feet crashed back down, and she was immensely grateful for her magically heightened speed. Someone else hadn’t been so lucky.
One of the men cried out as something snapped.
Fearing it was Deckard, her eyes flew open.
But now, Evylin found herself not wholly encompassed by the dark purple of night.
She could see the rough shape of the Night Chamber, columned and towering.
The marble took on color, a rich amethyst stone with veins of silver and gold like shooting stars.
The shape of the pedestal was several feet from her now, and a hulking, monstrous figure hovered over it.
Evylin blanched, the Guardian taking form.
A hound the size of her family’s home in Whickam Village whipped its ginormous head back and forth, snapping and snarling at her comrades.
Its deep fur looked like a shadow, veins of violet woven through its coat.
Vibrant purple eyes beamed down at them, vicious and calculating.
It was a bloodwolf. A creature of myth that haunted children’s nightmares, no matter their imaginary status. Said to hunt the souls of the damned, the wolves were demons of hell that bled in and out of the shadows. They survived not on flesh, but on blood, sucking it from the veins of their prey.
Ethenn let loose arrow after arrow, striking true yet failing to pierce the Guardian’s impossibly thick hide.
Deckard was on his feet, assuaging her fear of his injury, hacking at the beast’s trunk-like legs.
Rafferty chopped at its hindquarters while Auden was on his hands and knees searching for the Relic.
Ilain pulled Thom to safety off the dais, his leg a misshapen mess.
As her Warrior magic kicked in, Evylin’s mind stilled. Noise reverberated off the walls, helping form the shapes even more. She reached for her sword and rose to her feet. All her senses leaped to the forefront, ready for battle.
Evylin struck out with her sword, dragging it along the side of the Guardian’s body. The blade merely swept past its furred hide, failing to penetrate. She slashed again, to no avail. Yet, at the same time, one of Ethenn’s arrows finally embedded, and the Guardian released a fierce wail.
Evylin remembered how difficult it had been to damage the Day dragon. The Guardians were too well-armored for basic attacks. You had to strike hard and with pointed aim.
Sheathing her sword, Evylin reached for the long-bladed dagger on her belt and pressed closer to the bloodwolf. She sprinted under its belly, slicing up with her dagger. The blade did nothing.
A spurt of flame burst out, heat searing through the air as Ilain called on her magic.
Evylin turned away, closing her eyes to shield them from the sudden flash of light.
Immediately, the hound howled in enraged pain, lashing out in fury.
She heard it make contact with one of her teammates, and her gut twisted at the barely contained grunt of pain.
Sensing the heat from Ilain’s magic dissipating, Evylin returned to her attacks. She fought to keep hold of her focus. She feared for Deckard. What if he were seriously injured again? What if they couldn’t save him this time? How would she manage to go on without him?
The swell of uncertainty made Evylin’s magic surge. She attacked with renewed vigor, slicing at the bloodwolf’s coat. She still couldn’t hit hard enough or precisely enough to cause damage. She needed better leverage.
Another arrow sank into the hound, this one striking high on its leg.
A foolhardy idea came to Evylin, and she bolted forward.
She sprang up, grabbing the arrow’s shaft, letting her momentum carry her.
Though the arrow snapped, it gave her enough leverage to swing up and press her foot against the other arrow embedded in its shoulder, her weight pushing the arrowhead deeper.
The wood snapped, too, but Evylin thrust her knife down before the beast could fling her away.
The knife connected, the hide barely giving enough for the blade to sink in.
The Guardian’s roar shook the room. Evylin struggled to hold on to her knife as the bloodwolf flailed madly, trying to buck her off. She knotted her fingers in its fur with one hand, attempting to pull herself up by the blade with the other.
A bloodcurdling howl split the air as the knife sliced lower under her weight.
Just as she felt she was gaining enough leverage to launch a full-strength attack, Evylin’s sweaty palm slipped on the handle of the blade, the Guardian’s thrashing finally knocking her free.
Tumbling to the marble, Evylin’s lungs lost all their air on impact.
Her vision went spotty, but she had no time to recover as the bloodwolf raised its paw above her.
With the Guardian’s immense size, she knew only one hit could crush her.
Instantly, Evylin rolled away, the paw missing her by a fraction.
Its horrifying claws dug into the marble, causing it to crack.