32. Chapter 32
By the time Isla had awoken the next morning, Vaelin had already collected the scant amount of gear and supplies he had managed to salvage from the wreckage of the market. An extra canteen now sat beside each bag — water soon to be a precious commodity in the sands.
“Get everything?” Evric had asked.
“No,” Vaelin had clipped, irritably. “But it will have to do.”
He had turned his head then, as though sensing Isla’s gaze on his back, but stopped short of turning to face her. “Pack up,” was all he’d said over his shoulder.
Less than an hour later, they were hiking again, leaving the ruins of the market behind them.
Isla swallowed the ache she felt for the people she and Aurelia had worked to heal yesterday, knowing she couldn’t follow up with them the way she would like.
They were running out of time. The flash flood, the landslide, and of course, the illness, were ominous warnings that things were escalating.
They hiked all day, following the winding mountain Pass as the mountains began to shrink in stature the closer they crept to the edge of the desert realm.
The pines here were more sparse than ever, the rocky earth appearing more barren, as though the rock was crumbling to sand before their eyes.
And it grew hotter. Isla hadn’t expected to miss the brisk, biting winds of the mountains, but the closer they marched to the edge of the Pass, the hotter the sun seemed to shine, its rays beating down on Isla’s neck and shoulders.
After a brief break for rations at midday, they’d continued, Vaelin insisting they not waste the daylight.
Now early evening, the path narrowed where the mountains on either side seemed to blend from grey to gold, almost smooth to the touch.
“It’s from the sands,” Evric said, grimacing.
“We’re close to the border now. There’s nothing to block the wind in the desert, so the sandstorms kick up sands that beat on the mountains this far west — it smooths the rock and makes it look more like sandstone.
“ He rolled his shoulders as though he was uncomfortable.
“You okay?” Isla asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Fine,” he clipped. “I just hate the fucking sands.”
Aurelia stopped suddenly before her, and Isla narrowly avoided walking into her back.
In the lead, Vaelin’s face was a mask of shadow as he took on that eerie stillness that made every inch of Isla’s body tense up.
He scanned the sky, as if searching for some unseen threat.
Aurelia laid a hand on the rock face beside them, the same way Isla might feel for a pulse.
The two exchanged a meaningful look and Isla’s unease deepened.
“What is it?” she asked.
Neither of them answered.
“Let’s keep moving,” Vaelin said, his voice gruff.
He moved briskly, the sharp edge of his discomfort nipping at Isla as she struggled to keep up, Evric at her back.
Their footfalls echoed off the rock walls that climbed on either side of them as the narrow path descended onto a plateau, revealing a sparse pine grove nestled against the southward rock face, and a jagged cliff to the north yawning into open skies.
Vaelin paused again, tilting his head as if listening for something. Aurelia watched him, waiting. Isla’s eyes flicked between them, irritation needling her skin. What the hell was going on?
Evric sauntered up behind her, raising an eyebrow at Aurelia and Vaelin’s tense postures.
“What are we—” He broke off suddenly, the smile sliding off his face, instantly replaced with a seriousness that looked completely wrong on him.
Isla’s pulse thrummed in her neck. “We have to move,” Evric said, low and urgent to Vaelin. “Maybe it’s still far enough away—”
He was cut off abruptly by a low growl that ripped through the plateau from within the shadows of the pines, so deep Isla felt it rumble through her own body.
The air thickened, sharp with the copper tang of blood and something rancid.
Vaelin’s face had gone ashen. His eyes slid to Isla’s, locking on to them with a sudden intensity that made her blink.
It was the first time he’d met her eyes since the bridge.
And it was that, more than anything, that sent a stab of fear through her gut. But then she turned.
A massive black wolf prowled into view, its fur rippling like smoke, its edges strangely blurred.
Its unearthly red eyes gleamed as shadow trailed behind it, writhing like a thick smoke.
It curled around the enormous paws, tendrils of shadow leaking from each vicious, hooked claw.
Claws that could no doubt carve easily through several inches of ancient tree bark.
Isla felt a shiver coil its way up her spine.
The creature bared its teeth, gleaming with red-black blood, and shadows pouring from its maw.
Isla’s blood turned to ice. A blanket of fear smothered her, rooting her to where she stood.
Vaguely, she was aware of Vaelin stepping in front of her, gently pushing her back, blocking her from the beast’s view.
Evric was beside him, flames kindling in his bare hands.
The wolf let loose a snarl at the sight of the fire, tossing its head.
“Evric…” Vaelin murmured.
“I know,” Evric replied grimly.
Vaelin set his jaw and drew his sword in one smooth, sweeping motion. Time seemed to slow to a crawl, a terrible tableau of the moments before certain death. Isla watched the wolf sink back on its haunches, preparing to spring.
And then the air was on fire.
Flames crackled in Evric’s palms, winding up his arms. He wielded flame the way a bird took to the winds, natural and effortless.
He sent arrows of flame sailing for the wolf, guided by the tempest that was Vaelin’s wind.
Heat surged in the clearing, the dry air licking eagerly at the flames.
The beast snarled, shadows twisting away as the heat bit into its hide, and Evric laughed, low and threatening.
The embers that always lay in wait behind his eyes sparked as flames slowly replaced blood, the veins on his arms glowing faintly.
Vaelin moved like a storm. He swung his weapon with deadly precision, as if it were an extension of his arm.
A rope of flame now wound around the blade, crackling as it settled into the sword’s grooves.
Isla’s throat closed as the wolf’s jaws clanged against steel, sending a jarring, metallic ring echoing off the mountains.
Around them all, the wind raged. It scattered smoke and shadow, sending waves of fire crashing toward the wolf with astonishing force.
Vaelin’s pale blue eyes took on that ethereal glow, his magic twisting effortlessly with Evric’s as it had a hundred times before.
And then there was Aurelia, moving like a shadow at Vaelin and Evric’s backs.
Isla watched as Aurelia weaved through the chaos, ducking as Vaelin swung his sword overhead, pressing a hand to his upper back where blood bloomed.
Vaelin straightened, renewing his advances, now free of pain.
Aurelia dodged a furious swipe of the beast’s claws, reaching through flames to grasp Evric’s wrist. Isla’s breath caught — it was torn open nearly to the bone.
She watched as the flesh knitted together, Aurelia’s healing magic rolling over his arm, the wound closing like a tide retreating.
The wolf sank low, dodging Evric’s flames and leaping from a boulder. Then, turning faster than a creature its size should have been able, it aimed a swipe at Vaelin’s exposed left side, tearing its hooked claws clean through his leather jerkin and sword arm.
Blood sprayed as Vaelin grunted in pain, dropping to one knee, the sound slicing through Isla like a blade. Panic threaded its way through her veins like the fire in Evric’s, and she reached over her shoulder for her sword.
Vaelin stepped back into the brief, healing touch he knew would be there to meet him, Aurelia’s magic spreading through him.
Sweat dripped from his brow. As he regained his footing, Aurelia spun back to Evric’s side in the space of a breath — it was a dance the three of them knew well, honed through years spent together on the battlefield.
Steel sang as it was drawn from a scabbard, and Vaelin’s head whipped around so fast his neck cracked. His eyes widened in fear as they locked on Isla, her blade drawn, hair whipping behind her in the gale force of his wind.
A snarl tore from the beast, snapping Vaelin’s attention back to where it should have been. He stepped back, sloppily parrying a deadly swipe of claws with his sword. Flesh tore open on his forearm, blood spraying the rocks. He cursed under his breath.
Sloppy. Careless.
Worse, the beast had marked Vaelin’s distraction.
It bounded for Isla with renewed purpose, inky black shadows swirling in its wake.
Vaelin loosed a snarl of his own, panic and fury clawing at his throat as he raced after the creature.
His lungs burned with effort as he pushed his body to its limit, watching as Isla set her jaw and took up a fighting stance.
But he couldn’t close the distance, couldn’t move fast enough.
Desperately, he hurled a shield of wind around her, ignoring the taste of burnout.
And then a tidal wave of fire blasted through the clearing, forcing the beast to turn. Evric met its jaws with his blade, tearing his sword through the air with a vicious slice. The wolf recoiled, howling its rage, black blood and shadow alike leaking from the deep wound Evric had dealt it.
Vaelin leapt, swinging his own engulfed blade at the creature’s hind legs, severing tendons. Blood sprayed - both from the beast and from Vaelin’s torn sword arm - as he spun away, avoiding the creature’s enraged swipe as it struggled to turn on injured legs.
The heat on the plateau had reached nearly unbearable levels as Evric sent a storm of fire raging through the plateau, flames licking up the trunks of the pines.
A brief touch at his shoulder — Aurelia.
Vaelin advanced, strength renewed, forcing the wolf back with vicious swipes of his flame-imbued steel.
He closed a fist, and ropes of wind wound their way around the beast’s hind legs, hobbling it.
It snarled, gnashing its deadly jaws at him. Vaelin growled back.
He risked a glance at Isla, only to spin back at Evric’s snarl of pain. Even hobbled, the wolf had managed to land a blow across Evric’s shoulder, his arm now hanging limp, the elbow at a stomach-churning angle.
A flash of blonde, and Vaelin knew Aurelia was moving. But they couldn’t last much longer.
A streak of brown sent his head snapping as Isla sprinted along the edge of the plateau, sword in hand.
No.
As if in slow motion, he watched the wolf jump, loosing a guttural noise as it swiped, its claws tearing through the flesh of Isla’s leg. She screamed and Vaelin roared, his chest burning with panicked fury.
Somewhere, he was aware of Evric’s strangled yell mingling with his own, as a wave of flame bore down on the beast. Vaelin met Evric’s flames with a spinning storm of wind and the elements danced, winding into a tornado of death that barrelled toward the wolf.
It shrieked in fury as the flame enveloped it, forcing it back from Isla as Vaelin pressed the beast backward, the strikes of his flaming steel coming faster, harder.
The edge of the cliff loomed and the beast began to attack more frantically, sensing that it had been cornered.
“Aurelia,” he bellowed, and she dropped to the earth, both palms flat on the rock, her eyes glowing.
She loosed a furious scream, and the earth shuddered at her power, a fissure forming beneath the wolf’s hind legs.
A deafening crack sounded, echoing off the mountains as the earth crumbled, the wolf losing its balance.
One of Evric’s blades whistled through the air, sailing end-over-end to find its mark in the beast’s side — staggering, it slipped over the edge of the cliff, claws scraping for purchase, its final snarl ripping through the mountain range.
Vaelin stared at the spot where the beast had fallen, gasping for air in the stillness, adrenaline charging through his veins.
“Have you ever seen one before?” Evric asked from beside him, his voice uncharacteristically tight.
“No,” he replied, voice low.
And then he was moving, seeking Isla. In a single breath, he closed the space between them.
His hands found her cheeks, sliding to her shoulders, down her arms. His eyes raked her body, searching for injuries.
His heart pounded urgently against his chest. The leg of her trousers hung in tatters where the beast’s claws had slashed at her.
His eyes snagged on the ruined fabric, nostrils flaring at the metallic scent of blood.
Dried blood - Aurelia had already healed her.
“I’m good. I’m okay,” Isla said, and his eyes snapped to hers, his will shattering. His breath came hard and laboured, and her pulse feathered in her throat.
“Hell of a throw,” Evric said and Isla dragged her eyes from Vaelin’s.
“Sorry about that. Guess I owe you a sword,” she said to him, and Vaelin stared at her, not realizing it had been Isla who had launched the sword that had finally tipped the beast over the cliff.
He drew his hands away from her as if pulling a limb from his own body, and spoke, his voice raspy.
“We need to move. Now.”