“Let’s protect our home,” Ryker said.
We marched into the main corridor, a procession unlike any Malhaven had seen–or, hopefully, would ever see again.
The sculptures’ feet hit the ground with a vengeance, the sound of stone grinding together scraping against my ears until only a dull roar remained.
More statues filtered in from the other rooms. Some had been carved recently, the marble still white like Geryll’s. Othershad the markings of centuries in the small cracks on their faces and bodies.
In the hallway, Dax halted from his run as soon as he saw us.
“Where have you been?” he asked, pointing his dagger at the closest statue and jumping out of its path. “Are you seeing this? Stone. Moving,armedstone and–” His face slackened. “Vylkor?”
“He wouldn’t have missed a final battle,” Ryker said.
Dax huffed an incredulous laugh, smile reaching his eyes and making them shine like they hadn’t in weeks. “No. No, he wouldn’t have.”
Through the bangs and clawing on the outside of the Memory Hall, the civilians’ and warriors’ gasps and prayers echoed louder.
“The legends are true.” The crypt’s guardian fell to his knees in awe, holding onto his staff for support. “The ancestors have come to protect us in our time of need. Praise Solkar, he has not forgotten us.”
“Da-da, da-da, look!” A little girl giggled beyond the tears staining her cheeks, pointing at one of the statues. “It’s grandmamma.”
“Byron?” An old woman wobbled closer to one of the marble figures, rheumy eyes blinking fast. “Gods, it is you. You came back to protect me.”
The whole crypt, which had been overcome with fear and despair, was now alight with hope. My heart swelled as I saw the grimaces turn to smiles. The trolls, who had to hunch to not hit their heads on the ceilings, stood back, looking confused, but not interfering.
“Oh, my boy.” Mrs. Thornbrew looked at Geryll with tears in her eyes. “You were always so brave.”
Thuds kept rattling against the main door, the wood now sounding hollow and strained.
“I can shield the entrance while the statues deal with the attackers.” I looked into Ryker’s eyes. “As soon as the arrows stop flying, I’ll try to dissipate at least part of the mist.”
“Then my warriors and I can charge forward.” He squeezed my hand, running his thumb over my pulse point.“We’ll survive this.”
“We will.” I squeezed back before we untangled our fingers.
I instantly missed his warmth, even as my power surged forward, coiling around my wrists in preparation.
“Go into the back rooms and stay there until my command.” Ryker’s voice ricocheted off the stone walls. “You see any sign of green fog, yourun.”
The civilians shuffled quickly from the main hall, as I guided the trolls back. They gripped onto their weapons, eager to use them once more.
“But I want to play with grandmamma,” the little girl whined from her father’s shoulder as he carried her away.
The warriors gathered in front of the trolls, shields and swords ready.
Ryker and I stood between them and the statues, which kept advancing toward the opening, controlled by a power greater than us.
“Mom.” Ryker sighed, unsheathing two daggers. “You’ll have to lead the first wave of attack.”
Lady Mireya didn’t give any human indication she’d heard him, but she stepped in front of the door, mighty broadsword raised.
I rolled my shoulders back and raised my hands, heart trying to beat itself out of me.
Mireya swung her weapon against the door. Wooden shards soaked with poison flew all around us.
Then the true chaos erupted.
Chapter 82
