She bounced lightly on her feet as Trenton made his careful way down the side of the monolith he’d been crouched on and across to the mirror. Time was of the essence, and every second he took felt like grains of sand sliding through an hourglass—inevitably bringing doom closer with every breath.
“Come on, come on,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t want to distract him or cause him to fall, but he was taking so long.
“I’m here. What do I do?” he asked, not looking back at her.
“You need the mirror to catch the light and shine it down here.”
He nodded and reached over to tilt the mirror to catch the sun that shined down at an angle, the beam never touching the pillar on which Shea stood.
“It’s stuck,” Trenton grunted, wrestling with the mirror. He moved over, finding grips in the rock face for his hands and using a leg to kick at the mirror.
“We need that mirror, so don’t break it,” Shea warned.
“I’ve almost got it. Almost there.” With one last kick, the mirror turned with a screech to rival the eagles’ cries.
It glittered as the sun caught it, rotating and reflecting down into the crevasse. Its beam dragged across the rock, closer and closer to where Shea stood.
“There! Keep it right there.” It was pointed directly at the middle of the circle. Shea saw why they’d called it the eye of fire in the story. From this angle, with the mirror reflecting the light it looked like an eye had caught fire.
“Time for my part,” she said in a soft voice. She pulled out a knife and looked at her hand.
“Shea, what are you doing?” Trenton asked in a calm voice. He’d paused in his descent when Shea withdrew the knife.
“It needs sun and blood to work. Don’t worry; I know what I’m doing.” Sort of. She hoped.
“The Warlord is not going to be happy about this,” Trenton muttered.
He was right. Fallon was going to be very upset if he got in here and found Shea bleeding, even if it was from a self-inflicted wound. That was to say, if he survived the eagles and whatever black cloud Trenton had spotted.
She set the knife against the palm of her left hand. Hesitation stayed her hand. She moved the knife to her forearm. She might have need of her hands before this journey was through, and a cut on the palm was an absolute bitch to heal when you used it constantly. Not to mention painful.
“Here goes nothing.”
Shea drew the knife across her skin, biting down to keep the sound of pain inside. Cutting yourself on purpose was totally different than a wound you received while going about your life.
She knelt and held her arm over the eye. The story hadn’t said where the blood needed to fall, so she figured the eye was as good a place as any.
“Work.” She willed the thing. If it didn’t, she didn’t know what else to try.
For a long moment, the cavern was silent. Nothing happened. Then there was a rumble—one that was felt more than heard. The ground under her started to shake.
Trenton cried out as the wall he’d been descending started moving. He lost his grip and tumbled off, missing the monolith Shea stood on and falling to the ground below.
“Trenton!” Shea cried, throwing herself to her knees on the side of the platform. The area he had fallen was shadowed, and she couldn’t see his form to know if he was alright. That was all the attention she could spare for him as the rock around her began to move. She clung to her perch as it shook and quaked.
Perhaps this hadn’t been her best idea.
Rock and dust cascaded from above, the monoliths closing in on each other and sealing out the sun, leaving Shea alone and in darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE EAGLE swooped for another pass. Fallon leaned close to his horse, its legs pumping as it ran for all its worth. The eagle grew larger and larger, falling from the sky faster than anything Fallon had ever seen. At the last second its wings snapped out, catching the wind as it sailed over Fallon’s head.
Fallon reined in his horse, slowing its gallop and watching as the eagle bypassed his men and headed to the cliffs. It was joined by a second eagle, both preoccupied by something tucked away and out of sight.
Shea. They were going after Shea. She’d been climbing near there before they appeared. Fallon didn’t want to think a beast could be that smart—to bypass easy prey in favor of a much more difficult quarry—but he didn’t know how else to explain why the golden eagles were acting so counter to their nature.
He saw Reece up ahead, looking at the eagles the same way Fallon had.
