Chapter 24 #2
"The primary flow is completely reversed," she said through gritted teeth, studying the mechanism's core while trying to block out the faces watching from just beyond the barrier.
"And there's structural damage to the crystal housing.
I'll have to stabilize the physical components before I can redirect the energy, but when I move this piece. .."
The crystal pulsed violently. Reality rippled around them. She heard Dante's sharp intake of breath as his shadows surged, forming a protective dome just as the ward-lock released a burst of raw magical energy.
The blast slammed into the barrier. For a terrifying instant, she thought it wouldn't hold. The shadows flickered, thinned. Then Dante poured more power into them, and the protection solidified.
Her hands were shaking now, adrenaline flooding her system. "When I realign the primary crystal, the backlash is going to spike."
She took a breath.
"Tension on the secondary array," she said, and his power responded instantly, holding the delicate structure steady. "More. It needs to be completely immobile before I can..."
Another pulse. Stronger this time. The crystal fragments orbited faster, erratic and wild.
"We're running out of time."
"I know!" The snap came out sharper than intended, fear making her voice crack. She steadied herself. Focus.
She repositioned the first fragment through the pain screaming along her nerves. The backlash intensified. Her fingertips were going numb, her vision was tunneling at the edges.
"The flow converter needs to rotate..." But his power was already supporting the mechanism, anticipating her need.
Then the primary crystal cracked with a sound like breaking ice.
Raw force exploded outward. The dead surged forward as the containment weakened. And the entire spire began to shudder, reality folding in on itself around them.
"Hold it!" Dante's voice was a command that resonated with power.
His shadows exploded in every direction.
Some formed a reinforced barrier against the blast; others dove into the collapsing ward-lock to physically support the failing structure; still more swept the encroaching dead back before their presence could destabilize things further.
The strain radiated through their connection. She felt him pouring massive strength into maintaining everything at once.
But she couldn't think about that. Her hands flew across the components, making adjustments she barely registered consciously.
Training and instinct taking over where thought was too slow.
Realigning energy flows. Redirecting the surge.
Sealing the cracks with pure force of will and whatever she could channel into the crystal.
The fragment she was holding cracked further. A shard broke off, slicing across her palm. Blood welled, hot and bright.
She hissed but didn't let go. Couldn't let go.
Then his power flowed more firmly through their connection, supporting her grip, sharing the burden.
That helped more than it should.
Together, they forced the energy required into the mechanism, channeling it back into alignment. Her hands and his power, her instinct and his control, working in perfect synchronization.
The repair took minutes that felt like hours. Every second a battle against the destabilizing forces trying to tear everything apart. Her hand burned where the crystal had cut her. But gradually, painfully, the chaos began to settle.
The sickly yellow light shifted to pure, clean blue. Reality settled. The floating stones touched land, and the water flow straightened into its usual pattern. The crystal fragments locked into place with a resonant chime that echoed across the entire sector.
And the dead, no longer drawn by the destabilizing magic, began to drift back toward their assigned zones. Their forms faded from distinct figures into peripheral shadows, then into nothing more than weight on the air.
Still there. Still suffering. Just contained again.
Her chest ached with more than exhaustion.
When it locked into place, her legs went weak. His shadows caught her before she could stumble, supporting her weight.
"Is it holding?" she managed, the words slurring slightly.
"For now." His shadows carefully wrapped her injured hand, applying pressure through the cloth strips he'd torn from his own sleeve. His hands didn’t shake, but his jaw was clenched. "That was reckless."
She tried for a smile. It probably looked terrible. "But it worked."
His dark eyes flared with silver at the edges for an instant before he looked away. "This was the fourth failure this week. They're accelerating."
Fourth. In one week.
She looked at the now-stable spire, then at the landscape around them. The doorways had stopped flickering. The memorial stones no longer pulsed. The willow branches hung motionless.
But she could still feel them—the Forsaken. Watching from just beyond perception, waiting in their eternal torment, their need a constant weight on the air.
"How much time do we have before they overwhelm our ability to repair them?" she asked, though part of her didn't want to know the answer.
His shadows shifted restlessly at his shoulders. Agitated. Worried in a way she'd rarely seen.
"Not long enough."