Chapter 16 #2
He was at the third building now, scaling the wall one deliberate step after the other.
His hands found crevices on the smooth stone that Lory couldn’t make out from this distance, but it gave her comfort that he could do it.
If he could, it meant there was a way. She only needed to consider her shorter frame and, therefore, shorter reach.
“What’s behind that building?” Tabi asked from a few steps away, leaning over the banister to get a clearer view of the tallest of the houses Frost had mastered and which blocked the view of a good portion of the path.
“You’ll need to wait until you get there to find out,” Dunveil responded, stalking closer between students shuffling aside to make way for the Knowledge Hand crossing the threshold onto the balcony. “But I can assure you, it’s the place most ashlings fail.”
Lory didn’t imagine the way Dunveil’s eyes landed on her at the word fail, like he expected her to do just that, and for a moment, she was tempted to hold on to Thal, but no matter what he knew about her magic—if Dunveil hadn’t executed her yet, she might as well show him what she was capable of when it came to overcoming obstacles.
Her entire life had been one long path riddled with traps and walls blocking her from advancing, with fear and dependency—and she was done with it.
Forcing calm into her veins, she dropped her arm from Thal’s waist, stepping toward the edge of the balcony to take a closer look.
“We’ll see about that,” she murmured, waiting for Aiden to show up from behind said building and nearly shouting out loud when he emerged at the wall below the roof where Falcrest stood like a statue, the sun reflecting off the blades sheathed at his back and hip the only proof of his occasional movement.
“Next!” Nefetari Brunn waved the ashlings forward one by one the moment Aiden stood beside Falcrest on the roof, and they all leaped off the balcony as if it was nothing. As if there weren’t stone and packed earth waiting to split their skulls and break their necks.
“Jarek Grivor, Thalric Heener.”
Lory’s stomach lurched as she watched two of the few people in the world who meant something to her step toward the edge, climbing the banister with moments telling a tale of both their training and their nerves.
“Please don’t die,” Lory whispered after them, and Thal, who turned his head just long enough to give her a tight smile. “If I do, I’ll be with Ariel. See you on the other side.” And he let himself drop over the edge, catching the steel bar forged into the wall at least twenty feet below.
Jarek was already climbing up, reaching for the flat roof and cursing violently as he touched the frame of metal at the edges.
“How, by Eroth, did Frost get over that without melting his skin off?” Tabi joined Lory by the banister, her features for once showing that her elite upbringing and years of training before joining Ashthorn hadn’t made her immune to fearing pain.
“Might have something to do with his particular abilities,” Lory suggested, remembering she’d read in the book about the different types of magic that ice was almost as rare as dreamweavers.
Usually, they manifested as low-key partial abilities like cooling down items at the touch of your fingers and palm.
Power such as Aiden’s was rare and dangerous.
No wonder they’d wanted him at Ashthorn.
He was a weapon, not only against usual enemies but against the sun itself when it baked the city—or the thing Ulder seemed to fear even more than weapons made of steel: fire magic.
“Unfair advantage,” someone murmured behind them.
Lory didn’t bother to turn around to tell them she couldn’t care less if it was unfair as long as Aiden made it to the other side alive; she was too busy following Thal and Jarek’s attempt at crossing the narrow bridge, which seemed to tremble at every step they took.
“Careful!” Lory’s scream echoed between the limestone walls as rocks crumbled from the side of the bridge.
Beside her, Tabi twitched as if ready to jump over the railing and reach for the two young men who were fighting not to slip off the bridge as it wobbled, ready to collapse at a wrong step.
“Come on, you can do it.” Lory wasn’t screaming. Even if she had, the pounding of her heart would have drowned out any noise as the path detonated beneath their feet, each step one closer to safety, yet one closer to death. If they didn’t hurry up, they’d fall with the bridge. “Run!”
She didn’t care about the others’ murmurs and Brunn and Dunveil’s commands to stop as she leaped over the balcony rail, grabbing not for the iron bar beneath but for the wall across the gap the others had avoided due to its distance.
Hurry up, Lory. No matter how much she rushed herself, scaling a wall took its time, as did a sprint above a roof full of treacherous gravel.
She didn’t think as she ran, didn’t consider the thirty, forty, fifty feet below that would mean her certain death if she faltered once.
Only Thal and Jarek were important now, and the bridge was within reach.
If only she could make it past the last roof—
“Stop!” Falcrest’s booming shout almost brought her to a halt, but it didn’t matter what would happen to her as long as she saved Thal and Jarek. She hadn’t been able to save Evven—
Just a few more steps and… leap.
Sweat beaded her neck and forehead, fingers throbbing as if she’d dipped them into a bowl of glowing embers, and her arms and legs were protesting with every step as she pushed herself harder, faster.
“Stop, Lory!”
This time, it was Frost who objected to her mad attempt at rescue, but the bridge was swaying, and stones were falling—as were Jarek and Thal.
Fuck—
“Hold on!” Someone was shouting now, but she no longer heard it.
The only thing she could see was a memory of Evven’s face as he sent a knife flying for the man about to kill her—and the light leaving his eyes.
She’d lose them. She’d lose Thal and Jarek like she’d lost Evven if she didn’t do anything.
And she wasn’t ready to let them die. She couldn’t.
They were both clutching the ragged stone where the bridge had broken apart, their legs dangling and kicking at the air as they fought for leverage. From the corner of her eye, Lory could make out a tall, dark figure pacing the edge of the roof by the other end of the bridge.
“Do not interfere, Vednis.” Falcrest’s warning wasn’t optional, and she knew it. If she failed to obey, she’d be the next to die.
With shaking hands, she stood there, watching Thal slide lower and lower with every second, Jarek’s grasp slightly more secure on the other side of the gap, right at Falcrest’s feet.
“Don’t even think about it, Lory,” Thal called from where he was hanging too far away for Lory to reach, even if she dared. “I’ll be fine.”
Fighting the panic rising in her chest, she waited, a hundred ideas of how she could try to help them—and fail—crossing her mind, yet she remained still, frozen to the spot by Falcrest’s command.
In her chest, something else was coming to life: Like a beast with a will of its own, her magic opened an eye, observing, rallying, readying.
She’d go up in flames right here if she didn’t do anything about it, and then, there would be no going back. It would be her certain death.
“Stay calm, Lory.” Her whisper was meant only for herself, but from across the roof, Falcrest’s gaze hit her like a physical blow, summoning hers until she faced him.
The message was clear in his eyes: Keep your shit together.
How he knew she was about to become a living torch, Lory didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. None of it mattered as a gust of wind raced through the space between buildings, and Thal screamed as he was shaken like a leaf from his handhold.
“No!” Lory was about to sprint onto what was left of the bridge on her side of the gap, but her body froze on the spot as if encapsulated by a layer of ice, and when she glanced down, she sure found ice crystals on her boots and the fabric of her pants.
Frost.
The ashling had joined Falcrest on the other side, a frown on his features as he seemed to will Lory to remain where she was.
“Thal?” Perhaps she couldn’t run to him, but she could reassure herself the absence of a bone-crunching thud meant he hadn’t yet fallen to his death.
“Stay the fuck out of it, Lory.” The strain in Thal’s voice meant he was still fighting, and as long as he hadn’t given up, there was hope.
Hope for both Thal and Jarek. The second ashling was holding on to the stump of the bridge with only one hand while, with the other one, he was weaving patterns in the air—patterns that, Lory realized, were summoning air toward him.
Another gust of wind ran through the gap separating Lory’s side from Falcrest’s and Aiden’s, and she knew it had been Jarek’s doing that Thal had slid farther down, where Lory could no longer see him.
Jarek’s feet went still, knees bent and soles flat like he was standing on solid ground, and when he jumped up and swung his leg over the bridge, Lory recognized the invisible floor for a spot of hardened air he’d formed with his power.
“Are you all right down there, Thal?” Instead of creeping to safety, Jarek leaned down, making those patterns with his hand again while he held onto the bridge with the other, and Thal’s curse echoed from below as rocks and dust flew up in a spray.
Lory covered her eyes with her forearm just in time to prevent splinters from taking her sight, but a sharp pain on her cheek told her a rock had made it past.
This was bad. If Thal got something in his eyes and lost his hold down there—
“Fucking Veiled test.” Lory only lowered her arm when Thal’s voice sounded from beside her feet and the dirt and gravel stopped assaulting her. “Really, Lory, what were you thinking?”
She hadn’t been. So fast not even Frost’s ice magic could contain her, she dropped to her knees and grabbed Thal’s wrists, helping him the final few feet over the edge until he rolled onto his back and groaned and sighed all at once.
“You shouldn’t have interfered,” he panted, patting his chest and his stomach down in a search for injuries. “Falcrest will have your head.”
“Jarek interfered.” It was a lame excuse, but enough to allow her to push potential punishments aside for the moment.
Whipping her head around, she searched the bridge for Jarek, who was crawling along the unstable stump of rock that remained of the bridge.
Neither Falcrest nor Aiden reached down to help Jarek onto the roof as he dragged himself forward, obviously drained from using so much of his magic.
Inch by inch, he made progress while all Lory could do was watch and wish her own powers were as useful as his or Frost’s or even Thal’s.
Perhaps, the water wielder could summon the humidity from the air and sling a rope of fluid to secure Jarek if he wasn’t so exhausted right now.
But her own magic—all her damned fucking flames could do was burn and hurt and destroy.
No wonder Ulder wanted all Flame-born dead.
From across the gap, Falcrest’s eyes found hers, wide and full of an emotion she had never seen on him before, and she would have let herself believe it was an illusion, had Thal’s voice not penetrated the haze in her mind, shaking her awake.
“You’re burning, Lory.”