38. Archer
Archer
This time I see it before my very eyes. At my touch, my tether to the Weave tangles with Saige’s thread, pouring my memory down the connection of our bargain, throwing her right into one of the worst moments of my life.
And then, magic surges around us, a swell of power pouring from the Confluence as Saige collapses in my arms.
“I saw it,” she rasps, shivering. “The crater in the Wailing Wilds, the final battle. I saw you.”
“You did.”
“Leo told me of that place, of the crater—a true remnant of the Reckoning,” she sounds faraway and I know she’s fading.
“Morzanmyre is no place for a mortal bookbinder.”
She lifts her chin stubbornly. “I survived it once before. As did you. You were… You are a hero.”
“I am anything but that, Grayson.”
Her knees buckle as she tries to stand. “I’m getting you out of here,” I tell her. I scoop her up and cradle her against my bare chest, shouldering her satchel while the cavern starts to shift and groan. The book is still clutched to her body—
An unnatural warbled note pierces the humid air of the temple.
A bone-chilling sound I would know anywhere.
Saige jolts as the noise intensifies and blinks up at me. “What’s that?”
“Mirudytes.” I’m scanning the temple for any sign of the creatures, and any still bodies of water, for they can travel through reflective surfaces at will.
I can hear their chanting in Eztherian. Eternal praise upon my true king, Malevron. Forever, we shall defend and conquer in your name. Blessed is the one house, blessed is the one family… blessed is the mirror. We were made for war…
“Mira-what?”
“Mirudytes. They were Azkari artisans from the House of Mirrors who were corrupted by Malevron.” I hold her closer as I start back the way we came, wondering how I’m going to haul the both of us and the Confluence back up the vines.
“Now they’re closer to wraiths. One minute they’re alluring, the next they’re they stuff of nightmares.
They’re akin to his foot soldiers now. Where the souldren elite are his personal guard and commanders, these creatures are the disposable pawns, but still deadly. ”
A near-deafening crack sounds from above, and a fissure tears through the ceiling, vines and foliage recoiling from the invasion.
I need to get us to an active portal and get her back to her shop. From what I can feel through her body, the book has stopped humming, but that pulse of power that came from it… that worries me greatly.
A grating hissing noise sweeps through the fracture, vicious and unchecked.
“There’s more than one of them,” I say, more to myself than to Saige. “At least four, I’d wager.”
“Can they be killed?”
“They can—”
“Let me down, you need to be able to use your sword, your fists. And so do I!”
“Not a chance, Grayson. Not with you in your current state. They’ll be shifting between forms. Perfect duplicates with subtle wrongness, you won’t know it’s a mirudyte until it’s too late. We’re getting out of here.”
A portion of the roof caves in, and I duck, shielding Saige with my body as rocks and roots from above rain down. A distorted screech echoes through the cavernous temple, followed by blood-thirsty gurgles.
“They sound closer.”
“They are.”
She sags against me.
“Are you in pain?” I navigate around the rubble and debris, trying to figure out if the path is clear enough to use it to climb up to the next level rather that clambering with the vines.
“Tired,” she mumbles. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be. You got what we came for. Let me do the rest.”
This time when she slumps into me, I know she’s passed out.
The rhythm of her breathing changes, tickling against my bare skin as she exhales.
And though I know now is not the time for such realizations, they hit me all the same—I like having her close, I like holding her.
I just wish I knew she was alright. In the time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen her hit with exhaustion so suddenly, even in the wake of one of her pain episodes.
Having her out cold in my arms is unsettling to say the least. But there’s nothing I can do until I get us to safety, so I run.
I run cradling the mortal bookbinder to my hammering heart.
Holding Saige in one arm, I unsheathe my blade with my other hand.
I can hear the creatures trawling through the wreckage above as I start to climb the piles of rubble from the cave-in.
Malevron’s far more likely to have his minions lying in wait on the other side.
I should have heeded my own damn warning.
I ascend the ruins, black flames racing up the steel of my sword.
Three mirudytes lay in wait for me. It’s been a while since I’ve laid eyes on one of these mutant minions and they’re every bit as disgusting as I remember.
Once beautiful Azkari from the House of Mirrors, they now resemble haunting wraith-like beings whose visages are splintered, reflecting only despair.
Bound to Malevron through anguish, he used these creatures in many a prison to torture his captives, and I am more than familiar with their methods.
Vengeance tastes sweet on my tongue as I summon my flames.
The first lunges from the mist-shrouded left side.
I block and retreat, the clang of metal echoing through the remains of the temple.
I find myself atop the disc, nearly slipping on the symbols as I kick loose stone into the creature’s face before I plunge my sword through its chest, spraying blood.
I track the second and third mirudytes through the rustling foliage and disturbed mist—they’re circling us through the fern undergrowth.
The moss-covered trees provide cover but limited visibility, so I keep to the shadows and wait for their strike, worried for Saige. I adjust her limp body on my shoulder.
In that moment of vulnerability, the two monsters charge.
I side-step at the last moment and bring my flaming blade down on one of their necks, severing its head from its body, setting it alight.
My recovery is impeded by Saige’s unconscious frame, but when the final mirudyte lunges again, I dodge and block its claws, which scrape the stone behind me, creating a shower of sparks.
Herding it into a corner of hanging vines, it gets tangled, shrieking and snarling as it flails and becomes more trapped.
I burn it to ash.
Smoke billows from the monster, and I see where they burrowed their way into the temple. Holding Saige, I charge towards the newfound exit, desperate to find a portal and get her out of here.
Grim, I realize. The damn dog is down those death stairs waiting by the horses.
For a second, I consider leaving him. It’s the path of least resistance, the option that makes the most sense with the Confluence now in play and Saige still passed out in my arms. And it takes all of one second to accept that I can’t leave the mutt behind.
That to the likes of Saige and her friends, it would be abandoning their family.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, trudging through the ruins that the mirudytes left in their wake. I do not lower my sword, I remain alert and on edge, ready for more attacks at any moment.
When at last I burst from the temple, daylight nearly blinds me. In the depths of the sprawling labyrinth, the passage of time became fluid. Now, I’m disorientated and unsure of the hour. I navigate back to where we came from. By some miracle, the stairs don’t try to kill me on the way down.
Behind me, I can hear more mirudytes, their strange sounds increasing to fully realized shrieks in our wake.
A soft bark has my head snapping up to see Grim waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs.
“Don’t make me regret this,” I mutter to him, forging ahead.
In the distance, I can feel the quiet buzz of the active portal I scouted out the night before, and with Grim padding silently at my side, I head towards it, trying not to flinch at the monsters screaming somewhere behind us. Prince Eryx is going to be livid.
Massive wisteria trees surround the portal like silent guards, their trunks as thick as castle towers, disappearing into the canopy above.
An ancient archway rises from the moss-covered forest floor; its dark stone carved with intricate knotwork and twisted vines that seem to pulse with portal energy.
Its frame is wreathed in mist, creating an almost religious atmosphere where shafts of green-tinged light filter through the towering Eldergrove trees.
Fallen logs and moss-covered stones create natural steps leading up to the threshold, as if the forest itself has arranged a pathway for those destined to cross between the House of Reveries and mortal lands.
As we reach it, the air around the portal seems to shimmer with residual magic, where reality grows thin and the veil between time and place can be pierced by those select few.
Through the archway's opening, instead of more forest, a shimmering view reveals the mortal realm beyond—a glimpse of rolling hills and distant city walls bathed in golden sunlight.
“You’re not going to like this,” I tell the mutt at my side.
Otherworldly shrieks echo nearby, and I don’t wait a moment longer.
The first step feels like breaking through the surface of a still, warm pond—a gentle resistance that gives way to liquid weightlessness.
I fucking hate using portals. My body is once again not my own, and the temperature shifts suddenly and dramatically as we cross the threshold—the cool, dream-touched air of the House of Reveries suddenly giving way to the solid warmth of sunlight from the mortal realm.
A tingling sensation races along my skin, every nerve ending awakening as magic recognizes the transition between realms. I grimace as the world briefly tilts and blurs, colors bleeding at the edges of my vision as reality reasserts itself and the ethereal quality of the Eldergrove fades.
The ground beneath my feet transforms from the soft, moss-cushioned earth of the Azkari realm to the firmer, more unforgiving soil of the mortal kingdom of Hanniel.
I force myself to gulp down air as my Azkari senses dull, the whispered voices of trees and wind falling silent, the magical buzz in my blood subsides, leaving behind the strange hollow feeling of being cut off from the realm’s ancient power.
Time seems to catch up with us in a rush—heartbeats suddenly pounding with urgency.
A final backward glance over my shoulder shows the portal already beginning to fade, the intricate archway becoming translucent like morning mist before vanishing entirely.
Grim barks excitedly, rushing ahead.
“We’re not far from Hanniel…” I murmur to Saige, eyeing the city gates on the horizon.
“You should probably put a shirt on between now and then,” Saige sighs against me. “We don’t want you to start a riot.”
A smile tempts my lips, and saying nothing, I veil us both.