CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE #3
Thom gasped. Blood filled his mouth, coating his tongue in the taste of iron. He looked down to find his stomach ripped open by the Shade’s attack. Stumbling, his body trembled. The Shade drove its foot into the side of his knee. He cried out as the joint shattered.
Thom fell to the floor, his head slamming against the glass-like infinity of the floor. His vision grew spotted. Nebulae swirled. Starlight blazed. Vortexes twisted.
Above him, the Shade reared back, and Thom knew he was about to die.
He’d failed his mission, his purpose, his family.
A vibrant violet light rammed into the Shade’s head. It burst into a thousand shards. Then a pair of arms was around Thom’s chest, pulling him back and away from the black hole that opened in the creature’s core.
“You can’t die yet, mi’caro,” Brea said with a fierce growl as she dragged him away. She released him and sprang back into action. With a fury, she fought the Shades. The Warrior was a blur of speed, strength, and power.
But it wouldn’t matter.
Thom lay on the ground, gasping and spluttering for breath. He couldn’t move. He could hardly breathe.
With one hand on his splayed guts, Thom’s body began to shake. He was dying. He knew it. No matter how staunchly Brea defended him, the world was growing ever darker as the battle raged around him.
Thom turned his head, the expansive floor cold against his temple. He saw the Keep’s iron door waiting in the distance.
Fifty yards.
He’d gotten them fifty yards away.
Tears slipped out of Thom’s eyes. They could do it. If Evylin and the others could make it to them, the group could cross the final distance. He might die, but they would live.
Thom turned back to look for Evylin. He couldn’t see her through the fray. But he heard her voice. She was calling for him. He smiled sadly. His death in exchange for her life. It seemed fitting.
His eyes drifted to Deckard then, his brother hanging limply between Rafferty and Vayden.
Desperately, Auden fought around them in weakening flares of golden light.
Thom’s brow furrowed. While Brea was defending him, she’d left Auden alone to protect the others.
Rather than let him die, she’d risked their lives.
A blast of blinding light burst apart several Shades in front of Auden.
The blowback sent hundreds of cuts across his body.
He backed away to escape the reach of their inner collapse.
Then he turned and sent another burst of light to the other side of the men.
The Day magic flared, shielding them. But Auden was wearing down.
His gestures were weak, and his reactions sluggish.
Without a doubt, he was dangerously close to passing out.
Brea continued to defend Thom’s slowly dying form. Auden whirled, prepared to strike at another group of Shades. And neither of them noticed the Shade that leaped forward from the creatures’ ranks.
Thom opened his mouth, prepared to warn them, but only a gurgle of blood slipped free.
“Auden!” Ilain’s scream ripped across the Keep just before the Shade wrapped its cutting arms around his waist, tackling him backward.
As if in slow motion, Thom watched as the weight of the Shade drove Auden back and into the collapsing Shades behind them. It bore him into the very enemy he’d killed to defend Deckard, Rafferty, and Vayden only a second before.
Auden’s vibrant green eyes went wide, contrasting with the vivid crimson streaks of blood marring his face.
His hands were still raised from his last strike, the glow of Day reflecting off his pale palms. Sweat matted his copper hair to his forehead, and he gasped as the Shade’s arms sliced into his gut.
Ilain’s scream burned like fire.
Thom watched in helpless horror while Vayden released Deckard to scramble toward his brother. But it was too late.
Trapped in the gravity of the black hole, Auden began to tremble, the edges of his body and the Shade that tackled him shivering violently. Then both were torn apart, instantly consumed by the blackness of the void.
A guttural cry of agony echoed through the Keep.
Ilain.
Thom’s heart broke for his friend. He sobbed quietly, his own life bleeding out on the floor. They were so close. He’d gotten them so close. Yet, they’d still lost.
With a gut-wrenching scream of agony, a fierce gale slammed through the Keep, ripping through it with desperate fury.
The gust of wind sent their whole troop and the remaining hundreds of Shades crashing to the floor.
Narrowly, Brea avoided landing on top of Thom even as the torrent sent him skidding backward, leaving a streak of blood on the shiny black floor.
The only one left standing was Ilain.
Her arms were raised over her head, and a raging pillar of black fire burned around her, the inferno the color of the onyx infinity around them.
In her hands, the Wind and Space Relics glowed with a blazing brightness.
Thom imagined she must have torn them from Ethenn and Evylin in her grief-empowered fury.
The flaming pillar burned blisteringly hot as Ilain threw her arms to the side. Fire and Wind became a torrent in her hands, burning and slicing through every Shade that remained. They collapsed to ashes all around them.
Then, shaking violently, Ilain collapsed to her knees and screamed in bitter misery.