Chapter 74 Durvla
Durvla
A flock of sheep roams through the winding green valley as we walk in the shadow of the towering mountains.
A monstrous slope of steep, black stone looms ahead of us like a fortified wall, the peak beyond what I can see.
It would take scaling the face of the mountain to make it through without magical means.
A lush forest is somewhere to our right and the ocean is to our left.
“Here we are,” Alys signs.
I stop walking and grip Ghendor’s reins perhaps a bit too tightly. The horse paws the ground restlessly and Kilkenny takes the reins from me. Doom hangs above my head like a guillotine set to fall, and my skin crawls. “Durvla, what is it?” Kilkenny signs.
“I don’t know.”
Chiyo releases Ffion’s reins and turns to fully face me. “If you sense something …” she begins.
Everyone’s attention shifts to me, and I resist the urge to cower. “I’m just anxious,” I admit.
We continue onward, following Alys since she knows the exact point of the entrance to the Verge.
I cannot fathom what lies beyond the wards, because as far as I can see, there are just mountains, pastures, and woodland.
Alys gave us a refresher on the runes and the incantations earlier, before we got in the vicinity of the wards.
There’s a winding path up the mountain that makes my stomach dip with anxiety.
Kilkenny slips his free hand into mine and gives it a small squeeze.
The closer we get to the base of the mountain, the more nervous I become.
Each step makes my pulse quicken and my stomach churns with dread.
We let go of our horses’ reins as we make it to the rocky face of the steep mountain.
We’re so close we can touch it, and I can already feel the energy sizzling before us. I recoil, daunted.
Kilkenny shifts his focus to me. “I feel it, too.”
“Let’s get started,” Alys says.
We all stare up at the rocky mountain as Alys takes a stance, her legs shoulder-width apart. She flexes her fingers a few times as if warming them up, then takes a deep breath. An immense sense of foreboding burrows into my head, and Alys collapses to her knees.
I barely have time to register anything before Kilkenny unsheathes his swords and whirls around.
Chiyo grabs a few daggers, getting into a fighting stance as six figures in black cloaks materialize before us.
Alys is on her hands and knees. An arrow has gone straight through her back, the tip protruding from the right side of her chest. She places a shaky hand against the mountain’s side.
“Alys!” I start to move toward her, but Kilkenny shoves me behind him as his voice fills my mind.
“She can heal herself. You can’t.” He charges toward a figure with spiky white hair and an oddly curved blade in hand.
I force shallow breaths into my lungs as the fight unfolds.
The man doesn’t remain in one place. He disappears and reappears every time Kilkenny’s sword gets close to striking him. Gods, that’s … shocking. Terrifying.
I stand frozen, watching the clash of swords, the whiz of arrows and daggers.
I count six attackers, nearly doubling our small party, and with Alys and myself unskilled in weaponry, that impending sense of doom surges in my chest again.
As if things aren’t dire enough, three others in bright white cloaks appear.
I stare for a moment at the startling contrast.
The horses are uneasy, pawing at the ground and tossing their heads. Ffion rears back on her hind legs before running away, but somehow Ghendor and Mirren stand their ground.
“They’re Dispellers,” Kilkenny says into my mind, his mental voice breathless. “If they get close, use your dagger. Don’t let them touch you—they can vanish you to wherever they desire.”
One of Chiyo’s daggers finds its place in the forehead of one of the white-clad figures and they drop. Another white-cloaked figure faces the same end just as they turn on Chiyo. Seven attackers remain.
The remaining assailant in white takes out one in black. Six.
Then five as Kilkenny’s sword goes straight through another in black.
My back to the mountain, I sidestep toward Alys. She snaps off the arrowhead protruding from beneath her clavicle. “I need you to pull the shaft out,” she says.
What? “Alys, I can’t,” I say, shaking my head firmly.
“Yes, you can. Make it quick, sweetling.”
I scrub my sweaty palms on my trousers and grasp the shaft, closing my eyes before wrenching it free from Alys’s back. I toss the arrow aside, swallowing the bitterness in my mouth. It takes a moment for Alys to gather her composure, but then she struggles to her feet.
“Are you alright?” I ask.
Her smile is almost convincing. “It’ll take more than an arrow to stop me.”
A black-cloaked assailant comes at us, a spear in hand.
Alys shoves a ball of light at him, sending him staggering backward right into the path of Chiyo’s dagger.
But the blade never hits as he disappears and reappears in front of Chiyo.
My heart skips a beat, but she’s quick and dodges each jab of his spear.
She pulls another dagger free from her belt and slams it into the man’s forearm.
His spear rolls a short distance away down a small swell of land behind Chiyo as she ducks and dances out of the man’s reach.
He yanks the blade from his arm, blood spraying, and slashes at her.
She dodges and sinks her fist into his stomach.
When he doubles over, she grabs his hair and shoves his head down, driving her knee into his face.
Blood spurts from his nose, and he grabs at it, falling to the ground.
Chiyo retrieves the spear, twirling it in her hands.
Her foot lands on his chest as she lifts the weapon. I turn away to avoid what happens next.
Four remain. Kilkenny takes it down to three—two in black and one in white.
Wrestling to find some semblance of focus, I turn to Alys. “We can’t breach the wards with them here, right?” I sign quickly. We wouldn’t want them to follow us in somehow.
Sweat beads on her forehead, making her mahogany skin shine. “Even if they follow us, they wouldn’t make it past the stronghold. But we need an uninterrupted moment. Can you summon your powers?”
My stomach dips. “I can’t.” I’ve only done so in times of anger—and it wasn’t even intentional.
I chance a peek over my shoulder to where Kilkenny is locked in combat with the white-haired figure.
The man disappears from in front of Kilkenny, only to appear behind him.
As Kilkenny spins, ready to deal a blow, the lone survivor in white turns her attention his way.
She’s lithe, with dark hair spilling out from her white hood.
Even though she’s still some distance from him, her focus on him is singular—determined. Oh gods …
My lungs seize, but I shake the fear long enough to scream. “Tiernan! Look out!”
He whirls, panning to me before he turns toward the woman who lets two daggers loose. Tiernan deflects one of the daggers with his sword, but the other sinks deep into his stomach. He cries out, his face contorting with shock and agony as he grasps the hilt and drops to his knees.
Icy panic ripples through me.
The man behind Tiernan falls to the ground with an arrow lodged in his throat.
I don’t register that my legs are moving until I’m beside Tiernan.
I fall onto my knees and place a hand on his shoulder.
His chest heaves with effortful breaths, his hand shaking violently as he grapples for a dagger from his vest.
The woman appears before us, drawing a sword from beneath her robes. I throw out my hand to block her.
A wall of translucent black shadows shoots up and arches over Tiernan and me like a dome, plunging us into semi-darkness. The woman’s sword bounces off the shield as though clashing against solid stone.
Tiernan’s jaw drops as he stares up at the dome.
His voice touches my mind: “Solace of dusk …” He’s still clutching the hilt of the dagger protruding from his stomach.
My heart somersaults as my mind grapples for the relevance of his words.
He’s bleeding profusely from a gash across his upper thigh, and I’m not sure what’s worse—the amount of blood leaking from his leg or the dagger currently keeping more blood at bay.
“Can you hold that shield?” he says, nodding toward the shadow dome.
“Not for long.” My arms are already trembling, and I don’t even know how I summoned it.
Beyond the force field, the white-clad woman drops listlessly to the ground, two daggers in her back.
Chiyo has one more figure in a headlock, and I stare through the wavering wall of shadows as she twists the man’s head with one swift motion.
His body crumples to the ground as my arms turn to gelatin, falling to my side. The wall of shadows dissipates.
Tiernan peers up at me, his knuckles white on the hilt of the dagger that he still grips, his face even whiter. But he offers me a pained smile. “You amaze me.”
A despairing laugh escapes me, tears slipping down my cheeks. My joints are too loose, my muscles worn—but Tiernan is worse. “Just don’t die on me, alright?”
He salutes, his smile more brilliant than it should be at a time like this. I turn away from him and discover Alys beginning to draw invisible symbols on the face of the mountain with renewed focus.
When I turn back to Tiernan, he has the crimson coated dagger from his abdomen in his hand. He chucks it aside into the grass, and my heart stops as blood pools through his fingers pressed against the opened wound.
“Have you lost your mind? You’re going to bleed out!”
He shakily shrugs a shoulder. “I’m a Mimic, remember? Thank Ehlach for Alys’s healing powers.” His hand glows with a gentle blue healing light as he presses it to his abdomen then his thigh.
Mimic, Mind Whisperer, Empath … And yet, I still fear for his life. There are bodies around us now. The dark-haired woman whose dagger bested Tiernan is uncomfortably close, her unseeing eyes staring at us.
Tiernan’s breathing is still ragged as he struggles to his feet. “We need to get to the mountain.”
I nod, shifting to stand as well, though it proves to be harder than I imagined.
My legs nearly give out, my body so worn I could lie in the grass and fall right asleep.
With one arm around Tiernan’s back, and his draped over my shoulders, we hurry as best we can toward the mountain … as it begins to fade.
I blink forcefully as my vision wavers and pray that another episode isn’t on the horizon.
There’s no time for my body to rebel right now, for the gods’ sake.
Tiernan slips his hand into mine, his fingers slick with blood.
I push back the nausea that threatens to evacuate my stomach.
“Alys says hold hands,” he tells me. “Sorry about the blood.”
I nod, trying not to think about it.
“Step forward,” Tiernan mind-speaks. My brows knit in confusion. There’s still a mountain before us, though it ripples as if it’s made of water. The hair stands on the back of my neck and the world seems to tilt. I am weightless for a moment. My skin prickles almost painfully, my vision wavering.
When my sight clears, a defensive wall of wooden planks stretches in front of us, and archers aim their weapons scaffolds just beyond the barrier.
We all drop to a knee simultaneously. My head is bent while my heart thunders, and my whole body begins to shake—the aftereffects of the attack.
I dare to glance at Tiernan beside me. Pain ghosts across his too-pale face with every strained breath.
I’m afraid he’ll soon pass out or worse, but to my right Alys collapses in the dirt.