Chapter 12
H er eyes widened, and her bottom lip trembled. Breath caught in the back of her throat. “It can’t be.”
Behind Shikra, rows of minotaurs appeared in pairs of threes. They stretched seemingly unending into the distance, but she counted seven rows from her vantage point. That meant twenty-one minotaurs at the very least, but she did not know how far back they went.
Shikra’s back was to her as he faced the sea of minotaurs in front of him.
She could not see his face and did not know what expression he wore.
Was he frightened? Did he face this test with courageous determination?
She knew not. He only called his fire spell to enchant his blade one last time, his voice ragged.
“Stop this! Please!” she cried to the voice above her, but still received no answer.
Shikra started toward the first group of minotaurs in a run, leaning forward with blade out and blazing at his side. He jumped on the minotaur closest to him and worked his way up it with momentum, stabbing it in the throat with his flame dagger.
That was a killing blow, but the minotaur managed to throw him off while it struggled its last. Shikra stumbled when he landed on the ground, and that moment cost him as the other minotaurs became enraged and closed in around him.
She could only watch Shikra’s desperate struggle without being able to help him. “This is cruel!” she continued to yell, helpless to do anything else. “Stop it!”
A minotaur had gotten around Shikra and charged him from behind.
He quickly turned around and called out a fire bolt that struck the minotaur in the shoulder, making it stagger from the blow and ram into the wall.
But another minotaur came from his side and caught Shikra with his horns, knocking him off his feet and throwing him in the air, making him take a hard fall to the ground.
“No! Shikra!” she cried out.
This rose Shikra back onto his feet, but he was limping. Blood streamed down his arm, dripping onto the floor in dark, steady drops. He’d blocked the blow with his forearm, sparing his life but paying dearly for it. The wound left him vulnerable in a battle he was already losing.
As Shikra was injured, his movements became slower. The minotaurs converged on him and forced him against the wall, the worst possible place for him to be. And to make matters worse, even more minotaurs gathered from behind them in a sea of never-ending monsters.
He enchanted his blade in one last effort to kill and started for the minotaur closest to him with his blade in his left hand, using his shadow magic to get behind it.
He stabbed the blade into the minotaur’s back, but it didn’t go deep enough, and the minotaur shrugged him off.
Shikra landed on the ground in an ungraceful manner after that, right on his back.
The minotaur was still alive, and more came behind him. Shikra’s actions were sloppier now, and blood was continuing to drip from his arm. His tactics had changed from mostly defense and evasion to only attack.
This was his final stand.
He struggled to stand back up.
There was nothing she could do. Shikra would die before her eyes. She needed to do something. But what? What could she do?
She could think.
Think of a plan, a solid plan to save him. Think godsdammit, think! The gods. That was right. Prayer. Pray to the gods. It was the only thing left for her to do and hope, somehow, a miracle … that her prayer would be answered.
She dropped to her knees and prayed to the gods, but most specifically the God of all Elves.
It didn’t matter that she had vowed to kill Shikra, and he was about to die as she had wanted.
It didn’t matter that he was her enemy. It didn’t matter that he killed Lindana. All she wanted now was to save him.
“Please, give me the strength to save him. Please, hear my prayer.”
Her eyes closed as she repeated these words, focusing on her prayer, trying to drown the rest of it all out even through her falling tears as she heard the otherworldly snorts and howls from the minotaurs and felt the pounding of their charges through the vibrations beneath her.
But a loud, piercing cry from Shikra made her eyes reopen instantly .
Everything turned black. She didn’t have time to wonder what had happened as she saw a sliver of burning white light appear from the darkness, starting off small at first. But it grew until her vision was flooded with white, fiery light.
It wasn’t just her eyes, for her body filled with this same light.
It flowed and coursed through her veins.
The power was ancient, omnipotent. It was too much for her to hold onto.
She screamed and released all that she bore. And, with this, her vision returned to her.
Every minotaur surrounding Shikra and beyond combusted instantly in a burst of holy fire. At the same time, a shimmering white light washed over him as he lay on the ground, unmoving. The soothing light healed him and cured his wounds.
Shikra stood back up, staring at first as she had at the death that littered the labyrinth floor. All the minotaurs were dead, burned through from within by holy fire. Shikra had stopped bleeding, and he stood tall amongst the charred corpses.
When it was over, her eyes met his, her breath fast and her heart racing. Traces of still lingering holy fire burned with a fiery warmth inside her body. All of her senses were doubled, intensified.
Shikra stood on the other side of the barrier. His reaction was a concoction of excitement from his brush with death and awe at what she’d just done.
What happened?
She didn’t … couldn’t explain it, but felt an irresistible tug, pulling her closer to Shikra.
Without a word or signal, they ran to each other and began clawing at one another.