In unskilled hands, it’s incredibly dangerous.
But this powdered form of it… And a whole tube of it…
It glimmers at me now from all of the bolts littering the ground around me.
My heart plummets.
Up on the monolith, the eighth man is already hurling the burning brand toward the bolts before he turns and disappears, presumably to slide down the wolf’s back.
The brand sails through the air toward me.
My survival instincts tell me to run as far and as fast as I can. Out into the wasteland. Let the force of the explosion knock me away from the center of the blast.
Instead, I turn toward the Vandawolf.
All I have to do is reach him and get behind the stretcher. I can use my last medallion to form a greater shield around us.
I can guarantee our survival. Mine and his.
Ican.
These thoughts race through my mind as my legs pump and I fly across the sodden earth, pushing myself to run as fast as I can.
Behind me, the fire hits the earth.
There’s a moment of silence.
A moment where I’m conscious of the breaths rushing through my mouth, of the ashen earth racing past beneath my feet, of the scent of magic in the air, and of the way the rain is finally evaporating, leaving my surroundings as pure as snow again.
The Vandawolf’s location is still five steps away, and in that moment, I know I won’t make it to him in time.
Then the world explodes.
Chapter4
Atornado of ash and flames rushes at my back, filling my field of view on both sides.
I throw myself across the remaining space between me and the Vandawolf—the final few steps—my back arching with the speed of my leap.
I hurtle into the stone monolith, attempting to turn my right shoulder to take the impact, sensing the crunch of my own bones.
The fire follows me, an unstoppable force that blows me even harder against the rock.
Instead of falling, the intensity of the explosion pins me there, my back to the stone, for an excruciating moment.
A moment of burning pain that fills my entire body.
I’m trying to send a signal to my medallion, trying to turn my left palm outward, trying to scream for a shield to protect me from the billowing flames.
Form a shield! Please!
Even if I could slide down the stone surface I’m pinned against, it’s too late to seek shelter behind the stretcher. I would have to force its edge away from the stone and that would expose the Vandawolf to the fire. Right now, the stretcher is sheltering his body, and I pray that the flames won’t lick around the openings at his head and feet.
Somehow, my left arm is extended into the blaze. My hair flies around me like molten strands of silver. The skin on my outstretched arm gleams like forged metal.
The honeyed scent of crimson coal glides down my throat, as if the air has become syrup.
I’m screaming.
