CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT #3
“Thom!” Deckard screamed, fear and panic lancing through him. He was useless to help, with Evylin and Rafferty standing between him and his brother.
With a deep, throaty bellow, Ilain raised her arms. Her face screwed up in concentration and effort.
She caught both men with her magic, carrying them back to the platform.
Her arms shook as Wind whirled around her, making her fiery hair dance like a flame.
Auden defended his sister as she rescued the men, while Deckard, Evylin, and Rafferty took care of the final few Shades.
As soon as Thom and Ethenn’s feet hit the stone bridge, she whirled around to follow her brother into the stone tower. The Ephrians all hurried along behind them, piling into the obelisk’s staircase. Deckard shut the door behind him and took his first easy breath since they’d entered the Keep.
“Everyone’s safe?” Ilain asked.
“Yes,” Deckard confirmed.
“Good,” she said, then whirled to face Ethenn, stepping up onto the stair in front of her. She grabbed hold of his collar and jerked him until his nose was within inches of hers. “If you fall one more time,” she snapped, “I will let you go, do you understand?”
Ethenn’s swallow was audible as he nodded. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“You’re not forgiven,” she said, then released him roughly.
Something in her expression made Deckard acutely aware of her fear.
A fear he felt within himself. His heart felt perpetually lodged in his throat.
His eyes caught on Evylin’s windswept hair, her braid nearly undone. Twice, he’d almost lost her out there.
And they’d have to traverse that perilous path again.
With Auden and Ilain in the lead, they descended the long, spiral stairs.
At the base, it widened into a massive Chamber like the others.
But this was worse—far, far worse than the rest. The space held the same design, stretching hundreds of feet between the entrance and the dais on the far side, yet there was no floor.
The columns hung in midair, going on forever into the clouds above and below them.
The dais hovered as a floating island. Nothing lay between it and the short, arching platform they stood on at the base of the stairs.
There was no path, no bridge, only sky and fog for miles.
Rafferty gestured flippantly at the dais. “How are we supposed to get over there?” he asked, incredulous.
Ilain pursed her lips in agitation. She scanned the Chamber, then shrugged. “Maybe we’re not supposed to,” she said, then raised her hands. With a flick of her wrists, a swirl of Wind rushed toward them.
Nothing happened.
Thom frowned at her. “Was that supposed to accomplish something?”
Ilain gave him a bored glare. “I thought maybe I could summon the Wind to carry the Relic to me,” she said. “I suppose that would have been too easy.”
An earsplitting cry pierced the air, causing them all to jump in alarm.
They raised their weapons. The sound was entirely foreign to Deckard, somewhere between the roar of a bear and the screech of a hawk.
His heart thundered as a giant beast descended over the dais, swooping through the air toward them.
“Shoot it, Loxley!” Rafferty shrieked, though they all knew an arrow would do little good against this creature.
The Chamber Guardian flew in on feathered wings that spanned the room’s length.
Deckard had never seen such a beast. It was a fearsome blend of bird, bull, and bear.
Its four giant paws held claws the size of a man.
Large horns rested atop its head like a half-moon.
Its muscular limbs flexed as it neared, ready to pounce.
Ethenn let loose a torrent of arrows as Auden threw arcs of light at its razor-sharp beak.
“How are we going to get across?” Evylin asked, hands tight on the Night sword and eyes locked on the Guardian.
Thom turned to Ilain. “Can you make a path?”
“Out of what?” Ilain asked skeptically.
Thom floundered, looking around the room. “The columns,” he said at last. “You could tear out chunks of stone and make a path with them.”
Ilain frowned, her green eyes worried. “I’d have to use Terrae to do that.”
“Then do it,” he insisted.
“I told you,” she set her hands to her chest, “Terrae is my worst resource. It’ll use up too much energy—”
“Do you want us to get this Relic or not?” Thom demanded.
Ilain scrunched her nose, a small wrinkle appearing on its bridge. She growled—actually growled—at him. “If we die,” she said, “I’m blaming you.”
“If we die,” Thom retorted, “I won’t care.”
Ignoring his quip, Ilain turned, her dark skirts swirling around her.
She pressed her lips together and stepped to the edge of the platform.
The Guardian screeched its rage as more arrows and Day hit its gray hide.
Closing her eyes, Ilain raised her hands.
The wrinkle on her nose deepened as she concentrated.
Deckard, Evylin, Thom, and Rafferty stood by helplessly, only able to watch. Deckard wanted to do something, but he worried about tapping into his magic. What if Ilain used too much power now, and they relied on him to get out?
A sharp crack echoed through the Chamber.
The columns trembled. Ilain groaned and crumpled her hands into fists.
Chunks of stone ripped free of the columns.
Slowly drawing her hands together, Ilain arranged the large stones into a gaping path that stretched from the entrance platform to the floating dais.
Before they’d even fully locked in place, Evylin leaped onto the first rock. Deckard called her name worriedly, but she didn’t hesitate or look back. She hurried forward, jumping from rock to rock.
Deckard prepared to go after her, but the Guardian flapped its enormous wings furiously, sending a fierce gale through the group. It drove Deckard and the others back as Evylin stumbled on the rocks. She caught herself easily, continuing on her path.
“Jonn,” Auden called from the far side of the platform, “we need your help.”
Deckard stared after Evylin, afraid to take his eyes off of her. He wasn’t ready to access his magic, to feel that overwhelming sensation once more. But if he wanted to ensure Evylin’s safety, this was his best means of doing that.
Deckard curled his hands into fists, feeling for the heat that simmered under his skin.
It prickled, subtle yet attentive—waiting.
He tried to grasp hold of it, urging Day magic forward, visualizing the bursts of Day as Ilain had coached.
He thought of the sun, glowing and golden, life-giving and warm.
He worked to channel it into a flare of light, bright and luminous.
His fingers flexed, willing the power to surface.
Instead, the heat receded, the magic pulling away from his grasp.
“No,” he muttered. Desperation drove him to release the image of Day.
The tingle returned, an almost intrigued sensation across his flesh.
He let the magic guide his connection, forming a link to the first resource it found.
It crawled over his scalp, tingling and whispering in his head.
At last, he could almost hear it murmuring.
When he raised his hands, the crystalline shadows were there, dark and glittering.
Despite himself and all of Auden and Ilain’s training, Deckard gave in to the darkness. He released the shadows, sending the black shards toward the Guardian. It connected with the creature’s left wing, causing it to roar in pain.
Out of the corner of his eye, Deckard saw Thom and Rafferty run for the path of rocks.
They followed Evylin, hurrying from stone to stone.
His fear spiked, seeing his brother risking his life too.
But he kept his focus on the Guardian with Auden and Ethenn.
Ilain stood at the head of the platform, concentrating on the floating path.