Dorian sighed. “He’s not a warrior either, but fair enough. Let’s see if he can manage to live through this.”
Releasing me, I ran for the shield where the twins, Vitas and Carolee were, watching Argo approach the invisible barrier of wind and air Maurielle was weaving.
“He’s crazy,” Vitas mumbled.
My leg twinged, knowing what was on the other side of the Chasm. I rubbed the still-healing scar and backed to the side a bit. I had no desire to be hit again.
“Fool,” Mistress Neves whispered.
Carolee agreed. “What does he want to accomplish with this?”
“To prove that none of us are very good at being druids or negotiators or leaders for the people of S'Kir,” Dorian answered, folding his arms and leaning against a nearby rock. “Fool wants the crown.”
I gave Dorian a quick, sidelong glance.
The crown?
There was no time to ask before Argo was next to Maurielle, pushing through the barrier of wind and air.
“What are you doing?” she snapped at him.
“Negotiating.”
“They’ll kill you!”
“We have not even tried,” Argo stated, still pushing.
“They shot the Breaker! They’ll shoot you.”
No one heard his answer because he popped through the barrier to the other side. I was sure whatever he said was horrible and aimed at me.
We all watched as he walked slowly forward, one step at a time, his arms out wide and in a position of submission.
At the other end of the Chasm, a man stepped out. He wore a crown made of black metal with red and white stones that glinted in the midday sun. His blond hair was dirty with light brown, and his green eyes were snapping with energy and…something else. Something I couldn’t identify. It was clear, though, even across the distance of nearly a hundred strides.
Sucking in a shocked breath, I realized I could feel him. More than that, I could feel him through the magic.
The magic didn’t like him.
It didn’t feel right around him.
There was some warping and twisting that was nothing like the Triium magic. It was bent, broken.
Dorian gasped. He stood from the rock and dropped his disinterested posture, staring across the Chasm. A look of absolute loathing crossed his face, twisting his normally handsome visage, and the magic bent around his anger.
Rilen and Roran also stared at him, as a moment later the rest of the masters at the shield were staring and backing up.
Tightening his fists, Dorian moved toward the shield. Quietly, he mumbled a name.
“Savion.”
Then, he screamed at the temple master moving toward the man on the other side. His voice was loud enough to nearly shake the rocks.
“Get back here, Argo!Get back!”
His magic started to whip around manically, pushing the edge of Mistress Maurielle’s shield forward. He was trying to catch up to Argo who hadn’t heard Dorian’s yell.
Rilen and Roran joined him, pushing the bubble toward Argo.
