CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“We don’t back down,” Zahara quivered through clenched teeth.
It’d be impossible to back out anyway, not that I’d ever leave Calvin in the morose Bound.
We crouched before the Xemaari, blades raised in hand. I bounced on my toes, a cold sweat running down my spine, limbs refusing to obey as we watched the fleshless soldiers march on.
If Jun were serious that receiving the trident pieces from the other Bounds would be more challenging, we definitely wouldn’t survive those missions either.
But a raging storm of fury churned in my chest, threatening to spill over, so I waited with the others and squeezed the daggers in my palms. Every second with the crew taught me a little more about the mechanics of the world, how the gods worked with ill intentions, and even more about myself.
I would fight to keep what little peace and contentment I’d gained with them.
We would work to capture the trident piece, get Calvin back, and hopefully, return the crew all in one back to Zahara’s ship.
Or, I would die trying.
Noctis slumped to his knees, his power drained, sweat soaking through his thin white tunic. His chest heaved, but he quickly regained his composure and pulled both swords from along his back.
The other gods shouldn’t really fault him for his defiance. He was sculpted as the perfect image of a warrior, even staring down dire consequences.
The first line of guards lifted their chipped, rusted swords. Their jaws worked in tandem, yet no sound escaped except the brittle clanking of their bones and the sloshing of their decaying boots as they left divots in the sand.
Noctis and Jun plunged into the line, layered eruptions biting through the simmering air, metallic blades cracking together in harmony, except only haunting dissonance would come from the battle.
They tore into the guards with ease, ripping their bones apart with brutal hits.
The guards swarmed the two men, so Zahara and I sprung into action, attacking from behind.
My dagger’s hilt drove into the back of a Xemaari soldier, splitting it in half as its spine and ribs that connected the two sections shattered. Another marched forward, splinters ripping through its skull, reminding me of the glowing scars that also fractured Noctis’s features.
Chills skittered over my blistering skin, a rushing blast of cool air hovering against me. Even in the midst of battle and exhaustion wracking him, Noctis never dropped the power that swarmed around cooling my frazzled body.
Jun spun his sword above his head and brought it down on a Xemaari, its skull snapping off its spine and rolling across the sand.
He threw himself into another attack, shoving his shoulder into an advancing creature until its bones scattered across the ground.
Zahara advanced toward him, ripping the joints apart of those attacking her in rageful, jerking movements.
Noctis separated himself, taunting a group of Xemaari away from us as he flipped his sword, slashing it through the air. He threw his blade toward the first creature, only to meet air as the soldier flew backwards.
The ground jostled, pulling the scattered bones into a heap and fusing them back into full skeletons. Every strike tore them apart, splitting bone from bone, but it never lasted. The fragments shuttered, dragged back together by something unseen, stitching themselves whole again and again.
This was pointless. I needed to make a call and do something bolder that wouldn’t end in our inevitable downfall. Because fighting the Xemaari would only wear us down until we were killed.
I bolted in the opposite direction toward the shrine, praying that I wasn’t wrong. The cool breeze that drifted around my body fell, Noctis’s power out of reach as I crested the hill again.
Crouching low with a leg extended to slide down the massive drop, I threw my body into the steep decline of sand.
The entrance to the cave yawned from the dune as if carved by ancient hands, welcoming and taunting me to enter.
The same unrecognizable runes covered the hardened walls, etched in jaggedly like they were in a hurry to be placed.
Uneven gritty stonework stretched into the stilled darkness as if charged with quiet magic, each footstep echoing like a sickening whisper. Columns of lithified sand rose from ground to ceiling, a stark contrast to my expectations looking at the temple from outside.
I sprinted, uncontrollably searching for Calvin around each pillar, but the cave stretched for miles. A booming clammer rang through, and I slowed, ears straining to trace the origin of the sound.
“Keep your antique grabbers to yourself!”
Calvin.
My feet crashed into the ground, blades in hand, set to rescue my friend.
I rounded a corner, coming nearly face-to-face with Calvin thrusting against the binds wrapping his body as two Xemaari soldiers dragged him from behind through the cave.
His eyes met mine in the shadows and widened, then softened slightly, as if surprised anyone would come to his defense. As if he believed he didn’t deserve it.
The daggers in my hands flipped, and I sent them soaring through the air simultaneously.
They slammed hilt first into the spines of the creatures, knocking their heads from their shoulders.
Bless Noctis’s training. Their bodies crawled through the sand, inching closer, each grotesque movement rubbing brittle bone.
I sprinted to Calvin and quickly unsheathed the short sword along his thigh, sawing at the ropes feverishly until they broke loose.
When freed, his body fell limp. His shoulders shook as the sobs wracked through him, as he released emotion he bottled up for far too long just like Zahara who fractured at his taking.
Even the happiest of faces bear the deepest wounds.
Tears soaked my shoulder as they dripped down his nose, and I pulled him into a hug, my heart completely shattering more.
“Where’s everyone else?” he hiccuped, his voice quivering to the same beat his body shook in my arms.
“Fighting off the Xemaari until we can get the trident piece and you out of here,” I said softly, working to calm him, but we needed to hurry. I stood, pulled him up, and shoved the blade into his hands.
“I know where it is. They dragged me right past it,” Calvin stammered, tears streaking through the dirt that covered his cheeks.
He struggled to stand, rubbing the scarlet bands around his wrists from the Xemaari’s grasp and took off. I followed closely behind, snatching up my daggers from the ground as we passed.
A thin pedestal stood in the center of the cave’s alcove, fashioned with swirls and runes along its cemented surface. A curved metal laid atop, untarnished from time or use—a silver spike with a sharp ending the size of half my arm. It glistened in the lantern light like a calling for me to take.
The Shadeborne Bound trident piece.
The metal sang before I could reach it, and I answered, sliding it into my grip. My fingers wrapped gingerly around the sharp edges and drew the polished blade to my chest. The runes flashed, slithering across the metal like a surging river.
The first splintering crack rippled through the cave like a warning too late to heed. The ceiling groaned, piercing stalactites crashing around us, thick and choking. Sand beneath our feet shuddered at impact, the sound a deafening roar as the cave worked to collapse in on itself.
“Run!” I bellowed, but it had to have been too late.
We flew through the cavern tunnels, reminding me of the maze we narrowly escaped together in the Myrrwood forest. Together. At least I had him. The crunching of my ankle reverberated in my mind again as the phantom pain shot up my leg.
The exit neared, blazing light erupting across the runed walls. Shadows danced around us, falling stones and our scurrying bodies blocking the luminance.
Cracks raced along the walls, splintering through the rock, until everything gave way at once, collapsing inward and blending into the sand as if it were never a structure that stood.
We made it out. Alive.
Steel sang in answer at our backs over the hill, loud enough to swallow all other noise.
“That’s not good,” Calvin muttered through heavy breaths.
We scaled the nearly vertical slope, our worn bodies slipping through the fine sand as steps became more labored and sloppy.
Below, dozens of Xemaari broke easily at contact, melded back together, and formed their obedient lines over and over as the crew worked to hold them off. The fleshless soldiers pushed them backward toward the Shadeborne Bound doorway.
“Let’s go commit crimes against anatomy,” Calvin quipped, and he took off down the slope toward the clinking blades. My feet sunk deep into the sand as I worked against it to run behind him.
But I was ready, energized even, after retrieving who and what I intended.
Noctis caught my attention, his eyes widening when he realized what I held: the trident fragment. The corners of his lips lifted, but my line of sight was quickly blocked behind an attacking Xemaari.
When Zahara’s eyes met Calvin approaching ahead, I noticed the wobble in her stance as she fought, the air that escaped her lungs in relief.
I attacked single-handedly, shielding the trident piece in my other. The dagger slipped in sweat at each hit to solid bone, the vibrations reverberating through me. The Xemaari pushed forward, and we allowed it.
Very slowly, each step back inched us closer to the tunnel connecting the Bounds, but exhaustion wracked us as the Xemaari trudged on endlessly.
Would the Xemaari follow us into the tunnel and take us out one at a time? No way in hell we could run all those steps.
I shoved my booted foot into the abdomen of the nearest creature, its sternum shattering into pieces. The weight of the trident piece dragged me down, mixing with the overwhelming heat and pain of fighting. And fighting with only one arm.