Chapter 3 #2
In the distance, shouts rang out, hoots and hollers and the clang of weapons.
The Andreilians, it seemed, were joining the hunt, alerted by her footsteps as she crashed through branches and brambles to escape the beast. The wolf-like creature bared its fangs in a snarl, saliva dripping from its sharp, jagged teeth like it had already tasted her and lusted for more.
Then it let out a blaring howl, as if calling for backup, and the shouts of the Andreilians grew louder, more euphoric in the thrill of the hunt.
The forest shifted, trees groaning in the whistling wind, a low, haunting tune in her ears.
A branch lashed out in front of her, and Adara barely had time to duck so it wouldn’t smack her in the face.
Another reached out, spindly wooden fingers latching onto her cloak.
It yanked at the fabric at the back of her neck, tossing her to the ground.
The beast closed the distance behind her.
Adara drew her dagger, slashing its eye.
Silver blood spilled down its snout. It reared back and she took the opportunity to scramble away from the teeth that snapped at her neck.
She veered left. Tree limbs wove together before her, an impenetrable gate blocking her path. She tried another direction, only to find the same twisted wooden barrier. She cursed and sprinted through the only path left open.
She was running right into a trap. Dominic Nite’s magic was intertwined with the island, Damon had said, and he was commanding the earth to do his bidding. The whole bloody island was his trap, and she’d been ensnared the second she set foot on shore.
Her magic might have been strong enough to defeat his, to burn away the earthen gates that walled her in on either side, but she did not want to expose herself—her magic—to the King of Keys. Helpless, she followed the path set out before her, vicious snarls still trailing behind.
Light pierced through the trees up ahead. That Andreilian had told her to stay along the outskirts of the island, that the beach was the safest. Hope fluttered in Adara’s chest—
Then crumbled away like the rocks at the edge of the jagged cliff as she skidded to a halt.
She gasped, precariously balancing at the edge, nearly tumbling into the violent waves crashing below.
Jagged rocks lined the bottom, peeking out from the water.
Adara swore under her breath, turning back toward the forest, only to be met by slitted yellow eyes and a low guttural growl.
She could draw her sword, fight the beast with Ignatian steel, but she saw how it had reacted to her knife. Impassive. Unfaltering. She needed the creature to be long gone.
The beast stalked closer, the tips of its antlers coated with dried blood. Barbs on its tail glinted in the sun. Its lips curled back in a snarl, baring its teeth at her. The beast licked its lips and lunged.
Itryla al rone yi mon taka, Adara thought and leaped off the cliff.
For a moment, wind whipped at her clothes as she plummeted, weightless.
Then her arm lashed out, grasping firmly onto a root hanging from the side of the cliff.
She bit back a scream, pain shooting through her arm threatening to rip from its socket.
Bits of rock rained down from above, scraping her face as the thick root lurched beneath her weight.
The wolf-like figure was a blur overhead, plunging after her.
It snarled as it fell. Claws latched onto her ankle, sinking deep into her skin. Adara let out a muffled noise of pain. Her blood spilled down its forelimb. She bit her tongue, the tang of copper filling her mouth as it sank its claws deeper, clutching onto her like a lifeline.
The root trembled under their weight. She reached up with her other hand, clinging to it. Blinking against the dust and pain, her grip did not falter, and she prayed the root wouldn’t either as she kicked at the creature’s snout with her good leg.
Her breath came in spurts, heaving through the pain, palms burning, wood splintering beneath her grip, blood pooling in her boot.
She risked a glance down at the jagged rocks far below, at the roiling ocean waves, and couldn’t help but think of what a painless death this would be compared to anything Moira had in store for her.
Adara loathed the Goddess of Fate. She often tried to find ways to defy the deity that supposedly controlled her life.
In turn, the goddess only invoked her wrath upon Adara’s destiny even more.
But it seemed Moira was saving her rampage for another day, because with one final blow to the creature’s head, its claws slipped from her skin. Its body crashed onto the rocks below in a mangled heap, drifting away with the tide.
She stuffed her boots into narrow cracks between rocks and roots, blinking through the haze of agony that shot through her ankle. Her arms strained. Her fingers clutched at grass, nails digging into dirt as she hauled herself up over the ledge.
Adara hissed as she peeled away her bloodied boot to reveal her mangled ankle. Thankfully, the blood was already slowing, clotting before her eyes, the unnatural healing abilities she possessed slowly kicking in.
Tearing off a strip from the hem of her shirt, Adara tied it around her ankle, shoved her foot back into her boot, and started off into the jungle once more.
Adara’s muscles burned as she clawed her way up the last sweeping slope of the mountain, brimming its summit. Her lungs ached with each heaving breath she sucked in, trying to ignore the sting shooting through her ankle.
When she finally hauled herself up the steep rocks, she lay upon a plateau, catching her breath. The faint sound of rippling water was ethereal music to her ears.
Slowly, she rose on aching feet. A dark, cavernous opening was carved into the side of the mountain, an unearthly glow rippling in the darkness. Vines snaked over the stone around the opening. Adara gently pushed them aside as she entered, blood rushing in her ears.
Her jaw dropped at the beauty before her.
The large cave was studded with dozens of crystals embedded into the rocks all around.
They glimmered in the light that shone through the mouth of the cave, reflecting off the shimmering water, creating a picture of a night sky full of twinkling, bright stars.
Walking into the cave, she stopped before the pond of enchanted water, turning slowly in a circle, taking in every one of the colorful gems that illuminated even the darkest shadows.
It felt like she’d been transported to another world.
Taking a deep, shaking breath, she kneeled before the pond, its luminous glow illuminating her features in an azure hue.
Adara pressed two fingers to her wrist, felt her heart beat twice.
Then she pressed them to her chest, over the black flame-shaped mark of her power, and finally to her head.
The simple motion was a reminder of what the gods had given her: life, power, and soul.
A life that was a gift of adventure from the Goddess of Life, Elysian.
Power that was hers to take by Adara, the Goddess of Fire and Courage, whom she was named after.
And a soul of which her own mind could choose who to be.
A quick prayer to the gods that she didn’t follow some myth or fairytale that only led to disaster and death in this otherworldly cavern.
Cupping her hands, she dipped them into the pond.
She stared at the glittering, vibrant water, imagining the limits of time slipping through her fingers as easily as the droplets of water.
“I am eternal,” Adara murmured. Then she eagerly brought the water to her parted lips.
Its taste was cool, refreshing, but nothing about it felt magical.
Dropping her hands to her side to dry them on her pants, her shoulders slumped. Disappointment and hopelessness washed over her. Why didn’t it work? Damon had witnessed the power of these waters himself. Dominic Nite had been alive for far longer than anyone should live. So why didn’t it work for—
All at once, everything came rushing back to her. Images of the past flooded her mind. Looming stone castles with shadows lurking in every corner. Old friends who were now long gone. Burning villages. Bloodied hands holding even bloodier weapons. Poison. Carnage.
Torture, so much torture. Crimson clouded her vision.
Adara fell to her knees in agony as memories continued their assault on her mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut as if it would stop the images from flashing before her eyes.
Gritting her teeth through the pain, she let out a groan at the ache growing stronger in her head.
She wanted to scream, to let the pain escape her in some way—
As suddenly as it came, the feeling stopped. All the pain vanished like it was never there, nothing more than an illusion.
Brows furrowed, she sat back on her heels and peeled away the vambrace on her left forearm.
Adara gasped in shock at the sight of her skin.
It worked, she thought, astonished. It actually worked!
She bit back the smile threatening to grace her features, feeling as if it would all wash away if she acknowledged it.
She stared at the mark for a second.
Ten seconds.
Thirty.
A minute.
Nothing changed.
A radiant grin broke out on her face. Adara Rhyes had crossed the Plagued Sea and drank from Andreilia’s enchanted water.
After nineteen years of living, time halted for her.
She no longer had to count down the days, anxiously awaiting her doom.
She no longer had to glance over her shoulder for the monsters creeping in the shadows.
She no longer had to lie in wait while others watched her fall apart.
She had been saved. She had been reborn.
Something slammed into the back of her skull.
Her mouth opened in a scream, silenced as her head was shoved underwater.