Chapter 58
Chapter fifty-eight
A plume of fire rose on the northern horizon, blooming like a wound in the sky.
Rynna turned her gaze toward it, her heartbeat skipping. Even from this distance, she could feel the heat of it. The wall extended north and south for as far as the eye could see in an unbroken spine of stone and earth woven through the landscape, piercing toward the heavens. But it wouldn’t last.
“We need to get to the other side of the wall.” Fenn was already scanning the forest below for a path.
“Can you land us over it?” Kaelith followed the line of fire with a grimace. “Or whatever you call it.”
The question hung in the air for half a moment before Rynna answered. “It’s too far to carry you both in one jump, even if I knew what was on the other side.” She raised a finger, expression flat. “And I’m not leaving either of you in the middle of a corpse swarm.”
She glanced toward the forest floor, where the horde groaned and shuffled in a tangle of limbs and bone. The dead pressed in every direction, so packed they obscured the ground. She could feel the beat of wrongness rolling off them, thick as smoke, and just as suffocating.
But…
A twitch sparked in her fingers. There was a way, but it would take precision. Timing. Risk.
“We could do it in steps,” she said slowly, her thoughts aligning with her pulse. “Short range. Blink, reset. Blink again.” A sideways glance flicked toward Kaelith. Her lips twitched into a faint smile. “We jump. Then, fall a bit. Then jump again.”
Kaelith’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. When he found his voice, it was dry. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
Neither did she, really, but there weren’t better options.
A strangled scream tore through the rising wind. All three turned.
A Hollow-born clung to the top of the barrier, his uniform slashed, blood spraying from his chest. He kicked at the horde scrambling up toward him—zombies climbing over one another, their rotten fingers digging into the bodies beneath as they scrabbled higher.
One caught his ankle. Another his sleeve.
He shouted again, voice hoarse with terror, before he was pulled down into the tide.
Then came the blast. A burst of wind hit the wall like a hammer, sending the uppermost layer of the pile tumbling backward. Limbs flew. Bones cracked. The momentum broke just long enough for the other guard to catch his footing, scrambling to safety.
Rynna tracked the movement upward.
A figure hovered just above the wall, balanced on a wide shard of jagged stone that floated beneath his feet like an obedient pet.
A short, square-built Hollow-born stood with arms outstretched, directing lashing gusts of air that exploded into the swarm below.
Each burst bought a few seconds. Each second, a little less blood.
“Neither of you can do the floating rock thing?” she asked without looking away.
Kaelith sighed. “No. I’ve never seen it before. But there’ve been rumors that Stone Reach has been experimenting in flight.”
Fenn cut him off. “It doesn’t matter. Rynna, get us there. Now. We’re out of time.”
“Right,” she muttered, raising her eyes to the air above them as she gathered herself, drawing everything inward.
Just her Will. Singular, absolute, and set free as the world approached its final heartbeat.
Pushing down the ache in her arm and the tremble in her legs, she reached for both their hands.
Then, heat surged through her veins as she summoned the fold between spaces, the invisible thread she could tug to slip between where and when.
And a soundless yank echoed inside her chest as the air inverted, and then the world dropped out from beneath them.
They reappeared fifty feet in the air.
Wind tore past her face as gravity caught them. The wall stood ahead, closer now, its top swarming with defenders. Her eyes scanned the space ahead, calculating angles, range, and visibility.
A rain of fire exploded from the western rampart.
A Hollow-born screamed as he fell from the parapets, limbs caught in clamping maws.
And still, the dead climbed—one hundred deep, one hundred high, the wall swelling with bodies like a wound refusing to clot.
She began to fall.
Rynna narrowed her focus, catching the flicker of movement below as the flying rock-Hollow-born glanced up. His eyes widened, but she was already jumping again.
The world snapped, and they were over the wall, the dead surging just behind them.
To either side, the earthworks stretched in all directions, walls rimmed with spikes and uneven battlements.
Hollow-born moved in fast intervals, posted every fifty feet, launching volleys of fire and stone into the ever-growing ramp at the base.
Beside her, there was a strangled inhale as she paused mid-air—just long enough to locate a safe place to land.
Below, she spotted it. A half-collapsed supply station, long since abandoned.
Rynna exhaled, refocused.
One final blink, and…
They hit open air again, just above the sagging shell of the old station, nothing but broken beams beneath them.
The roof gave way first.
A split-second of sound—wood splintering, tile shattering—then her boots struck empty space where the rafters had already fallen through.
Dropping together, the collapse caught them mid-fall like a trap sprung too late.
Kaelith’s arm hooked around her waist, yanking her in as they fell.
On the other side, Fenn shifted, twisting his body beneath hers just before the floor rushed up to meet them.
Rynna barely registered the impact before Fenn’s body crashed to a stop. Beneath her, he let out a rough, involuntary “hnnhf—” as the second impact of her body slammed into him. Still, his arms wrapped around her without hesitation, holding tight.
An instant later, Kaelith hit beside them, his body curling around her right side, one arm thrown over her head just as the rafters gave way completely.
A shelf broke loose above and came down in a rain of debris over Kaelith’s shoulders and back with a hollow crunch, then scattered across the ground in splinters.
Dust settled in the silence that followed.
Pinned between them, Rynna froze, blood roaring in her ears, as her fingers dug reflexively into Fenn’s chest. To her side, Kaelith let out a sound—half a groan, half a laugh—as he rolled clear of them.
“I’m getting better at your insane jumping.” He paused, then scrambled to his hands and knees just as a dry heave wracked through him.
Raising one hand to his mouth, he swayed slightly. “No. Never mind. Still awful.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t accidentally drop you during the first jump with all your twitching.” Rynna pushed herself upright, then settled back on her heels.
She coughed once—half laugh, half leftover dust—then glanced over at him.
“Accidentally?” Fenn’s voice came from the ground.
He was still flat on his back, staring up through the jagged tear in the roof. Then, after a long release of air, he sat up slowly, a grimace tugging at one side of his mouth.
Kaelith gave a half-hearted grumble and rolled his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the worst of the splinters.
He reached a hand down toward Rynna. “Yes, you two are hysterical. I absolutely cannot wait for more of your humor.”
She took it, rising unsteadily, knees protesting, and bumped his shoulder with hers as she steadied. Then she turned, extending a hand toward Fenn. He clasped it, pulling himself upright in one fluid motion, his other hand skimming the small of her back.
“We did something funny?” he asked, deadpan, expression unreadable.
Rynna and Kaelith exchanged a look. No words passed between them, just a shared Are you hearing this? glance—dry, exasperated, perfectly in sync.
“Unbelievable.” Kaelith groaned and tipped his head back.
“Perhaps the joke was before my time?” Fenn blinked once, as if genuinely confused.
There was no change in his voice, no smile. But Rynna caught the flicker at the corner of his mouth, in the way his eyes didn’t quite stay blank. A glint. Quick and feral.
She saw it a second before Kaelith did.
He froze, mouth opening slightly. “Wait—”
But before he could continue, a voice cut through the space.
“So glad you all could make it.”
They turned in unison.
Lady Takara stepped through the fractured doorway as if it were carved for her alone. Fire licked at her heels, both real and Source-born, while the silk of her robes hissed like embers. Behind her, the air distorted, shimmering with power. And in her eyes, there was no mercy, only purpose.
They didn’t speak, and Rynna straightened as the Ember Warden stepped fully into the ruined room, fire and dust trailing in her wake.
Outside, the groan of the dead rose into a crescendo. Inside, silence pressed close. Dust drifted in lazy arcs through the broken light filtering from the gap in the roof above them.
They had made it. But the wall was already failing.