“Angst,” Victoria called out, reaching for him.
“Let me go!” Hector demanded, trying to fight free of Faeoris’s grip.
Faeoris threw Hector high into the air and dove after Angst, grasping his black armor and pulling him back in time to catch Hector. His mentor was pale as death, and even more silent. Angst’s heart raced and his cheeks were red with embarrassment. He shook with fury. This just wasn’t working, or not working fast enough.
“We should head back,” Faeoris advised. “We need a better plan.”
“But it’s almost there,” Angst said. “I’m making progress.”
“Angst,” Hector said consolingly. “This isn’t working.”
Faeoris held him over Dulgirgraut, urging him with a shake to pick it up. He placed a hand on the sword. It glowed brightly, but told him nothing. Angst jerked it free, like pulling arrows out of a target.
“Wait,” Angst said, patting Faeoris’s hand. Maybe Dulgirgraut wasn’t telling him anything because he could figure it out himself. He pondered, looking at the notch in the barrier left behind by the foci. The words came to him slowly: it was just like pulling out an arrow. “Faeoris, how’s your aim?”
“What’s he doing now?” Hector asked, clutching his chest as Faeoris deposited him on Tori’s swifen. “I’m getting too old for this!”
Faeoris flew to Angst. He hugged her tight, whispering his plan into her ear.
“This is foolish,” she said. “You’ll die.”
“Angst, no!” Tori cried out. She already knew.
“I won’t die,” he said firmly.
“Everyone back up, but not too far,” Angst said, waving them away. “Stay away from that thing along the edge.”
He pointed up, urging Faeoris higher and higher. As she flew, he consulted the foci. He needed his hands not to slip, he needed his armor not to shatter, and his bones not to crack. It would be nice if his brains didn’t turn to mush on impact, too.
“This is a terrible idea,” she said.
“Yup,” he said, his ears thrumming from his beating heart. He swallowed hard. “You’re just jealous. It’s going to be fun.”
“You’re crazy,” she said.
“Nope.” He grinned. “I’m a hero. Now, as hard as you can.”
Faeoris tossed him up and grabbed his feet. Like holding a child by their arms over the grass, she spun him about faster and faster. His guts pressed outward as he held Dulgirgraut forward and hoped he wouldn’t heroically vomit. His arms and fingers throbbed from the pressure of her spin and his stomach went tight, but he didn’t let go. The red glow surrounding his arm spread to cover his entire body. Faeoris spun and spun until it was too much even for her then let go.
Her aim was true, and like an arrow with the largest tip anyone in Ehrde had ever seen, Angst flew at the center of the dome. A human arrow. Dulgirgraut’s power kept his body rigid; he didn’t even feel the wind on his face, nor did his eyes water—but at some point in the journey, he screamed in panic or excitement or a madness that he would never be able to explain away. The sword struck the dome with a crack like a hundred lightning strikes, and a ten-foot section of dome exploded inward, shattering like a window.
“No, no, no!” Angst shouted as he kept flying through the dome and to the quickly approaching ground. He hadn’t thought this part of it through and desperately pushed with air, slowing his descent. There was enough time to get Dulgirgraut away from his face and angle his body to land in a bellyflop on the cold stone. It was better than breaking his neck, Probably.
Angst lay on the hard ground, reconsidering his life decisions, and happy to breathe the little bit of air his lungs would allow. Was he alive? Everything was numb. He heard busy shuffling all around, and he wiggled a foot. He did a mental check: there was breathing, he could wiggle his toes and fingers, his heart was racing—which meant it still beat in his chest. The shock of being the arrow was slowly subsiding, making way for waves of pain.
Tarness rolled him over. “His eyes are open, and blinking,” he called out. He leaned forward and whispered, “You’re an idiot. Don’t ever do that again.”
“I’m completely blind down here,” Dallow said from above as Faeoris landed with him. He grumbled, “I hate this. And I hate him. Angst, what were you thinking?”
Angst’s vision was fading in and out, and he concentrated on filling his lungs with air, which was forced out as Victoria landed on his chest. She kissed him and wet his cheeks with tears several times before whispering in his ear, “I hate you. I love you, but I hate you. I’m done with this adventure, I want to go home.” She was shaking violently, and he was in no condition to hold her.
“That’s everyone who could fit through,” Hector said from above as Faeoris landed for the last time. “Are we interrupting his nap?”
“Really?” Victoria snapped. “How would you feel?”
Hector didn’t answer.
Faeoris knelt next to him, her face pale and her lips trembling. “That was brave. You’re an idiot, but a brave idiot.”
He smelled blood and wondered if it was his before passing out.
Angst awoke slowly to his friends’ muffled voices. That stunt had taken so much out of him. His bones ached, but he wasn’t so broken he couldn’t sit up. Everything spun, and he felt Tori’s small hand on his back propping him up. The exertion of forcing his way through the shield had left him famished. Everyone asked if he was okay, and he nodded reassuringly, though the nodding made him dizzy and nauseated. As he managed to focus, he saw Dallow, Tarness, Hector, Tori, and Faeoris sitting in a circle around him.
“Are you all okay?”
“Mostly,” Tarness said, nodding to Faeoris.
Her arms were covered in blood, and the skin appeared flayed to the muscle in some parts. She held them close to her chest, out of sight except for the blood, which couldn’t be hidden. She was pale and shaky.
“Come here.” He waved her over. He’d healed Moyra, he could heal Faeoris.
She shook her head. He didn’t feel like standing just yet, so, with a sigh, he crawled to her. She pushed away, kicking with her feet, but she didn’t get far without the use of her arms. As he came close, and his vision cleared, he could see that her arms were far worse than he’d thought. They were stripped bare—skin was gone, muscle was missing, and in some spots, he could see bone. How was she even conscious?
“What happened?” Angst wheezed. “Where are the other Berfemmian?”
“The crack you created started to fill back in. There wasn’t much time,” Tarness said. “She pulled all of us in and flew us down, but she caught her arms helping Victoria squeeze through. Both of them could’ve been killed.”
“I’ll be fine,” Faeoris snapped. She looked away from everyone, as if embarrassed for showing weakness.
Angst reached her feet and pulled himself to her waist until he hovered over her awkwardly. He smiled and pushed up onto his knees to straddle her. “Now you know how I felt in your bed.” He winked, taking both her hands in his.
“My way would’ve been more fun,” she said, jerking them away. “You’re too tired for this.”
“Now you’re beginning to sound like my wife,” he said, grappling with her to get a hold. She tried pulling her hands away again, but he gripped her wrists hard—harder than he’d meant to—and she cried out. “Stop fighting me!” he shouted.
The injury was bad, and he needed to know even more about healing. Dulgirgraut provided him with just enough. It was more than using water, or magic, it was an actual spell that interwove elements in a way he hadn’t expected. He’d been doing it the hard way, which was no surprise. He stared into her eyes and focused. A painful tingle of power crawled down his arms and into her hands. She attempted to pull back, but he held firm as muscle knitted over her bone and skin formed over her biceps and forearms. She grimaced, her eyes glassy but fierce. He was tired, and this wasn’t easy, but he couldn’t leave her like this. Holding his breath, he drew from whatev
er reserves he had deep down. Fresh skin crawled up her fingers, and missing nails grew back. The sight of it was amazing, the sound disgusting, but in the end, she was whole. Angst let out a gasp and rolled off her to collapse back to the ground.
“I still think you’re a fool,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Anything for a kiss,” he said, smiling to himself as he shut his eyes. It was nice behind his eyelids. Angst let his muscles relax one by one. Dulgirgraut was nearby, he could feel it, and...something else. Something distant, and quiet. It felt like Chryslaenor, or an echo of his old foci, but cold and dark. If he was right, maybe he could locate it.
“What were you thinking?” Hector asked. “Do you have a death wish?”
“What do you mean?” Angst said, not moving, keeping his eyes shut. It was still nice. “Did you have a better idea?”
“You couldn’t have shared with the rest of us?” Hector asked.
“I felt rushed,” Angst said. “Is there anything to eat?”
“You could’ve just thrown the sword,” Hector snapped.
“No, not really,” Angst replied, still face down on the pavement. “If the sword had gone through, and the hole had closed up before we followed, we’d have been stuck outside. No entrance, and no foci.”
Hector grunted and paused a moment to think. “You can’t tell me you thought all of that through.”
“Angst, get up,” Tori said before he could respond.
“Aww, mom,” Angst replied.
“She’s right.” Tarness grabbed him under his arms and pulled him up.
“Oh, what now?” he griped.
“Looks like we found your mermaid’s boyfriends,” Tori said. “All of them.”
43
Rookshire
Kala threw snow at Scar, and his little puppy jaws chomped as wildly as his tail wagged. They’d spent days rolling around in the thin layer of snow and leaves. They were both dirty enough to require baths every night, much to the frustration of her mother. Nikkola was very wary about bathing Scar, no matter how much Kala reassured her, but they’d truly become inseparable and Nikkola couldn’t bear dirty floors, or that wet dog smell.
“What do we feed it...him?” her mom had asked.
“He likes horses,” Kala said, and then laughed raucously at her mom’s expression. “Come on, Scar, let’s go find horsies!”
They’d begun exploring beyond the path to Mr. Angst’s house. The path had become very boring, even with her pretty swifen. Near the house was a steep, rocky hill. He’d put a door in the hill that led downstairs to a room with shiny metals. It, too, was boring. So Kala and Scar had decided to walk around the hill, and he’d promised to protect her.
Now, though, it was getting cold, and dark, and while she told herself she definitely wasn’t scared, it was probably time to go back before she got in trouble again. Scar whimpered.
“You’re right, we should go home,” she agreed. There were sounds in the distance, men talking. “What’s that?”
Scar tore off in the opposite direction, but when she wouldn’t follow, he returned and then tried running in the opposite direction again, as if guiding her away. She could hear them nearby, and see the flickering of firelight. It was too curious not to inspect, so, despite Scar’s whimpers, she inched forward quietly until she could see them. From the shadows, Kala watched Mr. Rook, Mr. Graloon, Mr. Jaden, and another man. They took turns holding what looked like a large, thick bracelet. She hid behind a tree and listened.
“Thanks for putting this together so quickly, Teedle,” Rook said with a smile, patting the strong man on his shoulder. “Especially after making all that armor!”
“If this works, I’ll take your thanks,” he said. “But will it hold?”
“I can’t make the metal any stronger,” Jaden said. “That spell is used to harden armor, and it works. That’s why it looks polished, like silver.”
“Graloon?” Rook asked. “Do you think you can do it?”
The round man’s eyes glowed gray. Other blue and red lights trickled down his fingers into the large bracelet. She’d never seen anyone do this before, and it looked even harder to understand than making the swifen.
“Done,” he said roughly. “Not bad work, if I say so myself.”
“Now, how do we lure the beast here?” Jaden asked. “I want to get back to Jadenville.”
“Rookshire,” Rook corrected him. Both men laughed.
That didn’t sound right, and she took a nervous step back. There was a noisy crack as a stick broke, and the men spied her. She wanted to run, especially when Scar barked at them, but she knew how much trouble she would be in and fear froze her legs.
“Kala,” Rook called. “Is that you?”
His long legs brought him close within seconds. The big man had a curious look on his face—his eyes flitting nervously to Scar, his smile a little too wide. It was the same smile her mom gave her before assigning chores. It wasn’t real.
He knelt. “You’re a long way from the path,” he said warningly. “Your mother won’t be pleased.”
Her lip quivered, no matter how hard she tried to be brave. “Please don’t tell,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Our secret,” he said. His voice was soft, and his smile became sincere. He looked at Scar again. “Would you like to see what we’ve been working on?”
She wanted nothing more than to run home, but she nodded, knowing she had to be polite. The lab pup whined, his tail between his legs as he followed closely. They approached the others to find them smiling as well. Graloon held out the bracelet, which was attached to a chain. She touched it then jerked her finger back. It was filled with his magic, and reminded her of the Wizard’s Revenge. Her mom had taken her there once when running errands, and she’d seen how it was surrounded by magic. The bracelet was thick and not pretty, and she didn’t understand.
Before she could stop him, Graloon bent over and slipped it over Scar’s head. Graloon’s eyes flashed brightly, and the oversized bracelet immediately shrank to fit around the pup’s neck. It wasn’t a bracelet; it was a collar.
“No!” she shouted, trying to pull it off.
Scar ran as far away as the chain would allow. It was fastened around an enormous tree and then into the stone of the rocky hill. The lab pup struggled against the collar, choking himself as he fought its restraint. He coughed loudly as he jerked and fell forward.
“You’re hurting him!” Kala shouted, dropping to her knees beside the lab and attempting to get the collar off.
Rook picked up Kala, pulling her away from the dog. Scar’s eyes flashed a deep burgundy, and two more eyes appeared on the pup’s forehead. Rook’s heart raced. They had little time. Kala kicked and screamed as he took off.
“Run!” he shouted.
Seconds seemed to take minutes, even days, as the four men sprinted away from the beast. Scar grew fast. Rook glanced over his shoulders to see muscle and skin bulge, fur merge to form vicious steel daggers, and more tails grow from its backside. The collar grew with him, just like Graloon’s bar.
“Stop it!” Kala wailed. “He promised he wouldn’t hurt me! He promised!”
Graloon slipped, falling on his large stomach with a groan. Teedle and Jaden both grabbed an arm and dragged him upright. He shouted in pain but limped forward.
Rook knew he needed to focus. He had to get the girl to safety—that was what this had all been about. To protect her, and the families who’d taken refuge. His feet began to slide as if running on ice, and he ran even harder.
The bark from the monster dog was ear-shattering and nerve-wracking.
“I think I just peed,” Graloon called out.
“Is he coming after us?” Rook shouted.
“It’s holding!” Teedle called out. “The collar and chain grew to fit.”
“He’s just trying to keep me safe!” Kala cried. “Please stop!”
“I’m not worried about the dog,” Jaden said, ignoring the girl. �
��I’m worried about the bubbles.”
Tiny crystalline orbs were forming at their feet, slowing their progress no matter how fast they ran. Rook saw something out the corner of his eye, and dared a glance. A squirrel caught in a bubble floated helplessly toward Scar.
“Duck!” Teedle called out.
Rook did, and a bear cried out overhead as it was carried toward the hungry beast. His heart ached and his lungs burned as he practically ran in place, barely inching forward. He was lifted off the ground and held Kala tight—his thoughts only of Janda. More than anything, he wanted to protect her.
“Here it comes!” Jaden shouted.
There was a popping sound, followed by another, and then a hundred more as Rook’s footing became solid, and yet not solid. The ground was now made up of stone spikes, and he could already feel them digging into his boots as he launched forward. This was going to hurt. Stone quills ripped apart the hard leather soles with every step, shredding them like forks tearing paper. He wanted to scream as they penetrated to his feet, and warm, slick blood filled the remains of his boots. Graloon and Teedle cried out in pain, but he couldn’t look back to see if they’d stopped. Rook watched as several rabbits fought against the confines of their orb, and he pressed Kala’s face deep into his chest so she wouldn’t see.
“This is the best you could come up with?” Rook asked.
“Yes,” Jaden replied. “Almost there!”
Rook’s knees wobbled from the pain and loss of blood. In the dusk of twilight, he saw the sheen of the pathway that led to Angst’s home—an ugly haven of mismatched stone free of spikes and bubbles and magic. Rook clenched his teeth and, with his last ounce of strength, leaped. He rolled, bouncing hard off his shoulder to protect his precious package. Rook heard more grunts, and hoped that meant the others were safe.
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