He pulls away from me, and we go back to the rest of the group who seem to be a little antsy. “Now that you two lovers have said your goodbyes, are you ready to murder a rotten gash and her friends?” Rurik asks.
“As ready as ever,” I respond with a deep breath. I pull my bow from my shoulder and nock a steel arrow to it.
“There are five figures moving that we’ve been able to see. One Chained is at the top, and one is at the bottom.”
Jorren says, “I’ll try to make the ones in the tower revisit the ones they lost, but I’ll have to be right next to the building to do it for long. I can’t hold the entire clearing for more than a few minutes.”
“I’ll do my best to break open a section of wall,” Isola says. “But I’ll have to be right next to it as well.”
Rurik nods in agreement. “It sounds like we’ll have to get to the tower. Luckily, I’m the last Stormbringer in the trial, so we don’t need to worry about anything but Burning Ones with ranged attacks. We should sprint to the tower. Be as quiet as possible unless they let out a warning. Then, just run like veilrunners are on your heels. The faster Isola and Jorren can get to the tower, the better.”
Then, without waiting for anyone to agree, he takes off. The three of us follow him. As we run, I take the three Infusions I always need. Bear, Cat, and Falcon. Initially, I’m left far behind the Godforged, but only a few seconds later, I’m moving in time with them. Silently, we sprint across the open field.
My heart’s racing in a way I’ve never felt before. I’ve fought battles where I could have died. I robbed Azric and tried to kill myself by jumping out of the Crimson Tower. I fought a dragon. I’ve trained against all the people on our team, and I’ve even passed two trials.
But never have I felt like we’re clinging to hope rather than trusting a plan. Serica’s group is stronger than ours. There’s no denying that. There are too many unanswered questions, too many more powerful enemies, and there’s a god watching who desperately wants me dead. The only reason I’m on board with this plan is that it’s the only one that makes any sense, and Darian is backing it.
Somehow, we make it to the tower without a single call to arms from inside it. Immediately, Jorren raises his hands as he did during our distraction. Screams and shrieks start from inside the tower. Isola presses her hands to the stones blocking the door. Her entire body glows red, and before my eyes, the stones seem to age, if that’s a thing. Tiny cracks appear. Bits of them turn red and crumble to dust. Other pieces just start to dissolve and disappear.
I step back several paces and draw my bow as I look into the tiny windows that were meant for archers at one time. For the first time, I see a real Abomination. Made of grotesquely manipulatedbody parts, it’s as large as a Chained. In the center of it is a single head, its skin pulled taut into a terrifying grin. Around that head are multiple bodies, all stitched together. Thick shoulder and leg bones have been attached like armor all along its massive torso. Four arms on each side hold weapons: two spears as tall as it is, two greataxes, and four longswords. Four legs support the creature’s incredible weight, and it moves like a spider as it walks down the staircase.
I fire the steel arrow through the window, hoping I can hit it in the head. It moves too quickly, and a sword comes up to block the arrow. The face turns toward me, and it screeches a horrible noise. Then it scrabbles down the stairs even faster. The sound is followed by Serica screaming because of whatever Jorren is doing.
“An Abomination is coming!” I shout, hoping Isola won’t be caught unaware if it breaks down the stones as they crumble.
A crash comes from high in the tower. Something hits the wall hard enough for the stones to shake. Jorren’s magic may work well on the people inside the tower, but it doesn’t seem to affect Abominations. What else doesn’t it work on? The thought passes quickly, though, as Rurik turns to me and shouts, “Down!”
I don’t question his command and drop to my stomach as a rush of movement passes within inches of me. Immediately, Rurik’s moving, and I jump to my feet. A seven-foot-tall demon hovers in front of him. Instead of the hound-like ones I’m used to, this is shaped like Darian or Rhion when they’ve grown wings.
Except, instead of feet, it has talons made of pitch-black shadow. They tear at Rurik, but he was ready for them. The same electricglow surrounds his sword as he fends off the talons and keeps the creature away from Jorren and Isola.
I shoulder my bow and pour oil on my daggers, the movement feeling far too slow. It would be so much easier to use my Mark, but people are watching. I flick the fire-starters on my daggers and rush to help Rurik.
Two more arms form from the shadows on the creature’s back, each ending in six-inch claws. They swipe at me, completely functional already. I try to strike at them, hoping that the flames on my dagger will burn away the shadows, but the creature is agile enough to hit my hand rather than the blade.
My dagger goes flying, and instead of worrying about it, I roll under it and drive my other dagger upward. I’d expected to connect with the demon, but it’s gone. I look up and see it hovering twenty feet above us.
There are more screams and shrieks from inside the tower, a reminder of what’s waiting for us even after we deal with the demon and abomination.
Rurik snarls at it. “Damned demon. Too close to use a lightning bolt without risking hitting you. Too far to hit with a sword. The bastard’s just going to wait until we’re not looking, and then it’ll attack.”
I drop my dagger, which is still flaming, and say, “Where do I aim?” as I pull my bow off my shoulder.
The demon stares at us, and I swear I can see a grin in those shadows. “Same place as all of them. The heart. It looks like a man with wings, so shoot where a man’s heart would be.”
I nod, and this time, I pull a flame arrow from my quiver. The demon doesn’t seem bothered at all. There’s an explosion behind me as the stones which had blocked the doorway collapse. Then there’s another shriek from the Abomination. I ignore it. As soon as we turn, this thing will attack.
As if time has slowed, I nock the arrow and draw back the bowstring. I know I’m supposed to be keeping my secrets, but this is one I can explain away as something that the Priest who’d trained me gave me.
I let the arrow loose, and the demon shifts ever so slightly so that the arrow doesn’t fly true. Instead of hitting it squarely in the heart as it would have had the creature stayed stationary, it hits it in the stomach.
An explosion of flames fills the sky as the arrow does exactly what it’s supposed to do. Heat rushes over us, and we’re suddenly light-blinded, but where a demon had once hovered, there’s nothing now.
I turn to Rurik who, though he should be focused on the fact that there’s an Abomination to deal with, is in near shock. “What kind of ploughin’ magic arrows do you have?”
I shrug. “No idea. My Priest friend gave them to me before I left for Dunloch. He said if I ran into demons I should use them.”
“I’d say he was right. I’d believe it if you told me they came straight from Erelith’s twat. Fuckin’ majestic things, they are.”
