He ran for Dario just as I launched myself forward. I’d kill this akadim on my own.
The beast swayed, blood flowing freely from his severed shoulder. I bent my knees and jumped, lifting higher than I ever had. And with a thrust, I drove my blade into its heart. He howled, his remaining arm scrambling to grip the hilt. Gritting my teeth, I pushed and shoved until I felt my sword meet the barrier of muscle on his chest, tough and thick. My boots found purchase against his thighs, and I pushed the blade in even further, forcing it past the beast’s muscle and bone.
On the other side of the cavern, I caught Rhyan launching himself onto the akadim’s back. He wrapped his arm around its neck from behind, and withdrew his sword. Rhyan drove the blade through his back. He grunted, until the blade burst through the front of the akadim’s chest. Dario fell from its claws, hitting the ground with a sharp thud.
I jumped back from the akadim before me, my blade still embedded in its chest. Rhyan yelled at Dario to get out of the way, but he just lay on the floor.
“Dario!” he yelled.
His chest rose and fell—he was alive—but otherwise, he wasn’t moving.
The giant swayed and tipped forward. His eyes going blank as he began to fall, the blade’s point positioned right where Dario lay.
I bit back a scream as Rhyan yelled out.
“DARIO!”
The akadim fell. Dario was going to be impaled. Rhyan leapt from its back, his feet barely touching the ground before he dove forward, wrapping his arms around his friend. They rolled off to the side, their legs tangled, just as the sword and beast smashed to the cave’s floor.
I raced forward again. My beast was still alive—and my sword was in its chest. I needed to pull it out and strike again.
“Maraak Moriel,”it growled, its collar shining in the firelight.
King Moriel. Aemon.
It grinned as it grabbed hold of the hilt of my sword, swatting my hands away. I fell back.
The akadim roared, spitting blood laced with its putrid breath against my face. Its red eyes narrowed to slits, fangs protruding from its mouth as it pushed my sword deeper into his chest, mocking me, making sure I knew that I’d missed his heart.
My chest heaved, as I prepared for my next move.
“Maraaka Ereshya,” it said, licking its lips.
Queen Ereshya. Morgana …
I stumbled back.
My eyes burned. Aemon’s betrayal was one thing. But Morgana’s? Was it possible? Could it be that she hadn’t just taken the shard, but that she was being worshiped by these monsters, too? That she was ruling over them? Commanding them?
No, no. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.
But she was.
“You fail,” it growled. “Lost your sword. Can’t kill me now.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” I said, unsheathing my dagger. My name flashed across the steel in the firelight.
The akadim laughed, mocking the size of my weapon. But a second later, I’d launched myself forward. While it protected its heart, I shoved my dagger through its hand.
The akadim screeched, arm flailing, giving me the few seconds I needed to unsheathe my sword from its chest. I struck again. And this time, I didn’t miss the heart.
Some animalistic sound echoed against the walls as the akadim’s eyes widened, then went dark. It seemed to be still, suspended in movement for several agonizing seconds, before it toppled forward, my sword crashing onto the floor beneath it as I stepped aside.
Across the cave, Rhyan still held Dario in his arms, trembling with shock. His face was red, like he was still trying to breathe after being choked. But Rhyan’s eyes, puffy, dark and swollen, were on me, looking me up and down, assessing that I wasn’t hurt. That I was safe.
He lifted one arm, his palm outstretched to me, and I ran, dropping to my knees to hug his side. My arms tightened around him like I needed him to breathe, and for a second, I let myself sink into him, my face buried in the warmth of his neck.
Rhyan crushed me to him, his hand a steadying presence on my back, pulling me somehow closer. I lifted my head, our foreheads pressed together, and he let out a sigh of relief. He moved, his lips brushing softly against my forehead before he pulled back, his eyes heavy as they met mine. “Lyr,” he said, his voice choking up. “Are you hurt?”
