His hesitation gave me the time I needed to call on my power, gathering it in the palm of my left hand, that arm outstretched so I won’t hurt the Oracle while I support her weight with my lower body.
I risk another heartbeat as my power pools in my palm.
Just as the Iron King would reach me, I blast my power outward.
Two attacks in quick sequence.
An icy spear shoots outward, right through the Iron King’s chest.
It should explode through him, shattering his body, but it barely slows him down before his flesh heals around the wound.
I was prepared for that possibility, employing my second move. More defensive than I’d like, but it’s my best chance of escaping with the Oracle.
As I backpedal, I let loose the full power pooling in my palm, pouring ice across the tunnel’s opening.
I catch the Iron King’s frustrated shout before he’s knocked backward.
I don’t stop moving, pulling the Oracle with me, continuing to pour my power outward, my ice exploding across the entrance, freezing and filling every gap, creating a thick wall between us and the Iron King. I doubt he’ll be able to get through it, no matter how strong he is.
Neither will the other vampyrs. Not without losing their lives to the frost.
As for the Iron King, it’s clear he doesn’t have the same weaknesses other vampyrs do. It’s already apparent he can tolerate light. Now, it seems he can survive frost. More concerning might be the absence of blood flowing from the slashes across his chest. Even regular vampyrs bleed black ooze.
I don’t have time to ponder it. I have to plan for the worst: that the Iron King will get through the ice wall or, more likely, that he’ll simply abandon it and come at us from the other end of the tunnel.
We have to get out of here before we’reblocked in.
Scooping the unconscious Oracle up into my arms, my left arm beneath her legs, my right hand supporting her head against my shoulder, I race back to my wolf.
Nara crouches fifty paces away, backing as fast as she dares toward me while keeping guard of the giant eagle collapsed on the tunnel floor.
The Iron King’s bird barely stirs, the wound next to its left wing gaping so wide that any other bird would have perished already.
But, like its master, the bird isn’t bleeding from its wounds.
This creature isn’t like any other bird I’ve encountered, although I’m not sure what sorcery made it this way.
Its gleaming, red eyes crack open at my hurried approach, its head rising as its focus pins to the Oracle.
A low, sorrowful croon reaches my ears, and I detect the sorrow within the eagle’s voice as it struggles to drag itself toward the Oracle—despite Nara’s snarls and her slashing teeth.
Brave bird.
At the back of my mind, I calculate the chances of manipulating the eagle’s apparent loyalty to the Oracle and using the bird to help us escape this place.
But the wretched creature’s heartbeat is shallow and weak.
It’s close to death, and there’s nothing I can do for it.
I have no choice but to leave it here.
Behind us, the loudcracksandthumpsof the Iron King’s fists on the ice wall cease.
Silence falls.
A bad sign.
I can’t let him reach the other side of the tunnel before we do.
