“How do we get across?” Shea asked, eyeing the grass with trepidation.
“We walk,” Ajari said.
She looked up at him in denial, her shoulders slumping at the implacable expression on his face.
He drew her forward, ignoring her resistance. Her boots wouldn’t protect her.
“It’s the only way,” Ajari murmured.
Shea relented. His feet were even less protected than hers.
The grass crunched under her, the pressure against the sole of her boots making her cringe. Ajari’s face was stony and remote as he moved beside her. She looked down and blanched at the sight of his blood marking his passage.
They were only halfway to the tree before the protection of her boots gave out, and she inhaled sharply when the grass pierced the bottom of her foot.
“This is close enough,” Ajari said after a few more steps.
Shea stopped, grateful she didn’t have to walk any further. Her feet were cut up but weren’t shredded as Ajari’s were. Griffin wandered around the base of the tree, seeming to not even notice the lacerations on the soles of his feet. More evidence of how obsessed and unstable he’d become.
Griffin turned from the tree, removing an item from his pocket. In a smooth move, he aimed it at the beast where it crouched, looking up at the tree.
A harsh sound preceded a pained yelp. The red back tried to run, but Griffin pointed the small device at him again and its head exploded. Its body dropped to the grass, the sharp blades shredding even its tough hide.
Shea started and would have moved away if Ajari hadn’t grabbed her hand and held her in place.
Griffin hummed as he moved toward the red back. He snapped off one of the green spirals from the tree, the slight tinkling sound indicating it was made from the same substance as the grass and likely to be just as sharp.
Griffin knelt by the beast, uncaring as the grass bit into his knees. He hacked at the beast’s stomach, opening up a foot-long slit. He reached into its still warm body, withdrawing a small egg-shaped object. It was a pure white, seemingly untouched by the blood and a milky white substance covering it. The Lux. It had to be, based upon the stories she’d heard.
So, that’s where he’d hidden it. All this time and it had been right next to her. Hidden in the beast’s stomach. Smart. Diabolical, but smart.
The Lux’s glow was brighter than her mother had led her to expect. It looked like a miniature sun in Griffin’s hands.
He held it up to the tree. “Father, I present my offering. At long last, you can take up your mantle of power and be released from any bonds placed on you.”
The branches of the trees rustled and from the darkness came the same laughing hiss heard in Shea’s dream.
An impending sense of doom gripped her. If he handed the Lux to that creature, the Highlands would fall. Some of the Lowlands might survive, but her home, the people she’d known and loved all her life would not.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Shea took a step forward, her hand upraised. “Griffin, wait. Think about what you’re doing. You can’t give that to him.”
Griffin turned to her, confusion on his face. His eyes were feverish and glazed, madness lurking deep inside. Shea was abruptly reminded that this was a man who’d killed his own mother once she’d outlived her use to him. He would think nothing of doing the same to her. In fact, the only surprise was that he hadn’t already.
She moved another inch toward him. She had to at least try.
“I know you’re angry over what happened in the trials, but this is not the way,” she pled.
“I’m past that,” he said, his face serene and calm. “That was fate. I’m thankful for it. It put me on the path that brought me here.”
Shea took another step toward him. “A lot of people will die if the Lux is misused. Do you know what that thing is capable of?”
He shrugged. “That is the fate of those who are weak.”
“You don’t mean that,” Shea denied, even though she knew he did. She needed to keep him talking, at least for a few minutes more.
“I do. The old guard is finished. Their ideals and restrictions are from an era long gone,” he said in a passionate voice. “Our people should have ruled the Broken Lands. They had the power at their fingertips, and what did they do? Nothing. They waited until some barbarian with little more than a sword and arrow took what was ours by right. Instead of ruling, turning our home into the seat of power, they hid and bargained, fading away a piece at a time.”
