40
“Are we trying to be subtle?” Eira asked as they neared the bottom of the Archives. The Pillars were too busy rushing about that none had noticed them yet.
“I think the time for subtlety has long passed,” Taavin said over his shoulder, nearly drowned out by shouts and distant explosions.
“Good.” With a dramatic sweep of her arm, ice coated the bottom of the Archives. It rose in jagged points, like a frozen wave crashing against the archways that led into the different halls of the complex. Before any of the Pillars had time to react, they were completely frozen solid.
“Improvement in your magic, indeed,” he said under his breath.
“Careful, or you’ll sound like you’re impressed by the Pirate Queen’s heir.” Eira took the final steps two at a time, breezing past Taavin. When she landed on the floor below, the ice shivered away from her, carving a path so Taavin wouldn’t slip.
“I am capable of both considering someone an enemy and being impressed by their abilities.” He was a step behind as they crossed under the opening of the Archives.
“Am I your enemy?” Eira asked as the Pillars outside charged toward them, drawn by the magic.
“Not today.” Taavin smirked and turned to the oncoming men and women. He lifted his hands and Eira mirrored the motion.
Magic exploded from them both. Taavin had been complimenting her skill, but his was just as stunning. He’d made an effort to keep his abilities somewhat under wraps, because Eira had consumed every rumor and word of the Voice of Yargen that she could in her younger years. But none of the stories had painted him as shining, golden death.
His movements were a blur, arms and utterances weaving an intricate tapestry of glyphs through the air. She gathered ambient moisture under her fingertips. With flicks of her wrists, she sent barrages of ice shards hurtling away from her. They whistled a deadly lullaby as they soared before sinking into the advancing zealots.
Risen unfurled before them, a bloody canvas already in the early hours. The walls that had protected the path to the Archives now had hollows carved from them, the farthest one a shadowy void swirling and snapping into place at its center. Apparently, flash beads and ancient shift magic that tore at reality didn’t blend well.
They carved their path down the main road. Most of the Pillars were either focusing on running up to the Archives—that batch Eira and Taavin continued to deftly dispatch—or running down to the primary force that marched in the distance toward the wharf where vessels were moving cannons into position.
At the last wall, Eira caught sight of a familiar set of shoulders. Ducot stood at the edge of the living shadow, hands out, sweat dripping down his face.
“This is a mess!” he shouted as she approached. “Why did I let you talk me into trying to blow up a shift rift?”
“Because there was no other way.”
As they spoke, Taavin pushed a man using a glowing glyph into the void that lingered beyond the edge of the cobblestones. The Pillar fell back with a cry that was cut short as the shadow consumed him. Eira wondered if he landed in the maze of whispers they’d traversed earlier…or if he had suffered a worse fate.
She hoped it was the latter.
“Do you have this under control?” Eira asked.
“It’s only well beyond my expertise,” Ducot forced through clenched teeth. “But don’t worry, I’ll just stay with this unwieldy, writhing, barely controllable ball of fragmented reality and fractured magic!”
“Is Risen at risk?”
“No. Shouldn’t be. I don’t know!” Ducot’s exasperation was cut short by a series of deafeningboomsthat rattled the foundation of the city. Eira’s attention was instantly drawn in the direction of the sound, but she couldn’t see past the living wall of shadow.
“She’s here,” Ducot whispered, voicing what they were simultaneously thinking. They both knew the sounds of those cannons in their bones.
“I’m going to get him.” Eira clasped Ducot’s shoulder.
He knew what she was asking. “I have this.”
“I have faith in you.” Eira chased after Taavin.
He continued to display impressive finesse as he traced luminescent glyphs into the air, carving a path forward. Eira worked to move in harmony with him, as much as she could. But, for the most part, they fought on their own, battling side by side.
“There!” Taavin pointed and Eira’s focus followed his finger.
Slowly bumbling down the main road of Risen was a massive cannon. It was pulled by several horses and was followed by twometal carriages. Pillars packed tightly around it, guarding the weapon and ammunition…and the man who rode between the two.
Even from her vantage, Eira could make out Ulvarth perfectly from among them. He was atop a massive white steed, silver plate glinting in the daylight. The sun’s rays seemed to bounce and swirl around it, giving him a protective, golden haze. A white cape with the symbol of the Pillars emblazoned in gold draped over the horse’s haunches. He exuded calm confidence, as if he truly was ordained by the goddess herself.
