Chapter 31
I should’ve chosen better shoes for this hike. I definitely would have if I’d known a dozen assassins would be chasing us. Again.
My rucksack, full of food, water, my satchel, and a bag of candies, slams into my back as I book it. With lungs that feel like they’re about to burst, I run down the sloping side of the mountain; however, it’s much steeper than I anticipated.
“Shit, shit, shit!” I leap over a large rock, but another comes into view, and the tip of my boot catches on it before I can jump again.
I careen forward, sliding downward on my palms. I can feel the skin on my hands rip open as the gravel and dust cloud around me, invading my mouth and nostrils.
I cough as I look back to see four assassins a short distance away.
I push up on scraped, stinging hands and stumble forward. “Rynthea! Algar!” I scream. They’re ahead, nearing the bridge. They turn, along with Kelrean and the guards, and their eyes widen when they realize I’m being chased.
Something flies past me—another four-sided blade—and aims straight for Kelrean’s head.
He catches it between his fingers with a bored scowl before it can hit him.
Chucking it aside, he swoops his ax in the air, unleashes a lion’s roar, and sprints forward.
Rynthea follows suit with her scythesword, and the guards storm after their prince.
They all zoom past me to take on the assassins.
“Where the shadows did they come from?!” Algar shouts when I approach him.
“I don’t know!”
We hurry toward the bridge with Zephra flying behind us, but as we near it, I throw my hands out and come to an abrupt stop.
No one told us the bridge would be an ancient, unstable rope suspension bridge, or that there are rapids beneath it roaring so hard and swift, they’ll surely drown us in seconds if we fall.
“Oh Orvena,” I breathe.
“We have to cross,” Algar insists.
“It’s missing so many slats!” I yell over the thundering water.
“Then be light on your feet! Let’s go!”
“Why don’t you just teleport us over?!” I ask.
Algar’s eyes widen before he gives me a sheepish smile. “Oh, yeah. Spot on.”
I feel the energy coursing through him when he takes my hand, ready to send us across the bridge to safety. But that energy instantly seeps away, and his hand falls out of mine when he cries out in pain.
“Algar?” I call as he falls to his knees.
He drops to the ground, curling into the fetal position, still screaming like someone is stabbing him.
“What’s happening? What is it?” My voice is borderline hysterical.
Gods, I feel borderline hysterical. His screams come to a rapid halt, and his eyes widen as veins bulge on his forehead and throat.
He tugs at my shirt, struggling to breathe, looking at me to help him.
But I don’t know what’s wrong. I don’t know how to stop his struggle—the pain.
Panicked, I look for help, but Rynthea, Kelrean, and the guards are fighting off assassins. However, standing in the middle of the sloping mountain trail is Maliek with an arm raised and his hand balled into a fist. He squeezes his fist so tight his knuckles are the color of snow.
Algar wheezes, grabbing at his throat. Zephra squeaks as she lands next to Algar’s head with big eyes full of worry.
That blue-eyed fucker is doing this.
“Stop it!” I shout. I hate how useless I feel.
Thane appears at the top of the mountain, stumbling as he takes in the scene. Someone materializes behind him, swinging a sword. He twists around and cuts them down before charging down the mountain and tackling Maliek.
The grip on Algar breaks, and he sucks in a sharp breath, clinging to his neck.
“Algar? Oh my gods. Are you okay?”
“Fuck. No,” he croaks between several coughs. He rolls onto his side to drag in a few more breaths.
“Can you still teleport us over?” I ask, helping him stand up.
He swipes a hand over his nose. “I—I don’t think I can. He nearly crushed my insides.”
“Damn it.”
Anxiety swells in my chest as three more assassins appear at the top of the mountain.
Thane and Maliek have tumbled down to where Rynthea and the others are battling.
Maliek is on top of Thane, punching him repeatedly with wisps of black shadows surrounding his fists.
Thane shoots a hand up and blasts him toward the wall of the mountain.
Maliek’s back slams into the jagged rock face before he falls on his stomach.
Struggling to a stand, Thane throws up a hand and sends a wave of gold flames up the mountain. It engulfs the three assassins running toward him. I hear their wails of agony all the way from the bridge.
Thane is pissed.
I can see it on his face, the deep furrow in his brow, the bright flare of his eyes, his tightly clenched fist. All hallmarks of a very angry and very deadly Thane.
Another assassin darts for him, but he twists around, and in one swift motion, he slices all the way up until he’s nearly split them in half.
Two more are fighting Kelrean, who’s now lost both his guards. Kelrean swings his ax and chops one of them clear in half, while Rynthea gives her scythesword a twist and takes the other one’s head off.
All of them are down, Maliek included. Thane is on his way to Maliek again, his sword ready, but he flies backward out of nowhere, flopping on the ground…and that’s when I see more assassins at the top of the mountain. There has to be at least a dozen more of them.
Shit. Maliek came prepared this time.
They storm down the mountain, dodging Thane’s flames and leaping over bulky rocks.
“Zaira! Get across the bridge!” Thane shouts, climbing to his feet.
His voice finally pulls me back to the present. I assist Algar, throwing his arm over my shoulder so we can get moving.
The first step causes the whole bridge to tilt and sway. My heart drops into my stomach. The wood feels brittle beneath my feet. There is no way this thing is going to hold us.
“How fast can you move?” I ask Algar.
“Probably a bit faster.”
“Good.” I pick up the pace.
Algar groans but keeps himself steady. About halfway, I feel the bridge shift like someone else has come on board.
Of course, it’s fucking Maliek.
He grips one side of the rope railing with one hand and uses his other to send a blue beam of light toward us.
“Duck!” I yell, bringing Algar down to a squat with me.
The light sails across, slicing through the nearest boulder at the end of the bridge. That squat alone sends one of my feet plummeting through a soggy plank.
I shriek, trying to yank my foot back up, but my legging gets caught on one of the splinters.
“Come on, sleeping princess,” Algar says in the most serious tone I’ve heard from him. He grabs me by the elbow and pulls, trying to assist.
Maliek closes in on us, lifting his hand again with his palm glowing a bright blue. Before he can shoot another beam, he hollers in pain. Behind him, Rynthea pierces through his arm with her scythesword. She grunts as she rips the scythesword out, causing Maliek to yell at the top of his lungs.
“You minotaur bitch!” Livid, Maliek whirls around and throws up both hands, sending her soaring off the bridge in a blast of light.
“No!” I scream. “Rynthea!”
She lands on a narrow, flat-topped stone jutting out from the wall of the gorge, close to the rapids.
Her scythesword plunges into the rushing water, and my heart aches.
One wrong move, one wrong turn, and she’ll fall right in with her weapon.
She’s unconscious, completely still, but once she wakes up…
“Where were we?” Maliek taunts, running a hand over his shoulder and healing himself with a whisper of shadows.
Gods damn. How powerful is his magic?
Zephra pops up behind him, blowing a large stream of fire at his face. He yells and throws up his arms to block the flames with his gauntlets.
This is the distraction I need to finally free my leg. Hauling myself up, I wrap an arm around Algar again and guide us to the other side. But Zephra, as amazing as she is, is no match for Maliek.
Over my shoulder, I see him cross his wrists and grunt, shoving them forward and blowing Zephra away with a powerful surge of magic. She sails past us in a flurry of pink, landing on the other side of the bridge with a pained squeak. She tumbles a few times but recovers quickly.
“Stay there, Zephra!” Algar’s voice is hoarse. “Don’t you move, girl!”
Panicked, I cling to Algar and walk faster. There has to be at least twenty more slats before we reach the other side, not to mention some are missing.
“Don’t look back,” Algar pants. He uses the back of his free arm to swipe blood from his upper lip.
“You just keep breathing,” I order, nearly breathless myself. We skip over a shattered piece of wood. Then the bridge sways and wobbles twice as much, causing us to clash into each other.
I don’t want to, but I look back to see what’s caused the commotion. I’d have been more relieved to see Thane walking onto the bridge if it weren’t about to collapse. The more weight on board, the worse off we are. We really need to reach the other side.
Maliek freezes in place when Thane throws a hand up with his fingers spread wide. With a swift yank, Maliek is reeled backward. He slides off the bridge but catches the edge with one hand, using the other to shoot a fiery ball of blue at Thane. Thane deflects it with a glowing gold shield.
“Hurry, Zaira!” Thane calls. He steps on Maliek’s fingers, raising his sword higher in the air. Maliek kicks his legs forward and backward in a swinging motion, rocking the bridge from side to side. Thane stumbles, tilting left and then right.
Then a loud crack sounds a short distance away. Ahead, the post at the end of the bridge is now tilting forward.
Shit. Not good.
“There’s too much weight!” Algar winces as our backs slam into the thick rope. Maliek keeps swinging until he effortlessly flies up. His landing makes the wood beneath our feet rattle. The post tilts farther, now starting to split down the middle.
I hustle ahead with Algar while Thane faces off with his relentless nemesis. We’re so close. I’ve never wanted to touch land so badly before. Only five more steps will do it.
I press my hand to Algar’s back and force him to go in front of me. The post splinters more as he dives forward and makes it to land safely.
I’m ready to take my leap, but it’s just my luck that the post gives out at this very moment, and with a quick snap and a jerk, it drags toward the rapids.
The bridge splinters apart.
I scream.
Algar calls my name as he tries to catch me.
But he’s too late.
I’m falling.