“The passage is too small. We won’t fit,” Folt’s voice replied and a chaos of scratching and hissing ensued.
Noba flew into Lyra’s peripheral vision, still bravely attacking snakes with his tail.
Cullen glanced behind them. “The others are going down a tunnel. We need to follow.” Step by step, he guided her while she waved her staff’s golden orb at the advancing dracura.
The dead body of a snake smooshed under the heel of her boot, and she signaled Noba to join them. Only she, Cullen, and Noba remained above the tunnel.
“Lyra, you go first.” Cullen steadied her elbow.
“No, you go first, but hold onto me in case I need your sharp aim.” She shook her arm free from Cullen, but pressed her hip against his. “Noba, come here next to me. You and I must go last, or those snakes will follow us.”
Tail forward, the pseudodragon worked his way backward against her shins while nudging his master’s staff between her feet, then tipped it into the hole.
Following a wide swath of fire from Lyra, the trio crawled down the tight entrance.
Two blades lunged after them.
Noba hissed and, with a single draw, severed their heads.
Cullen’s fingers dug into Lyra’s arm, and he shot a powerball from his other hand that sealed the entrance.
Lyra slunk against a tunnel wall and took a deep breath, grateful for whatever safety their new position could provide.
Above, the menacing cries circled from avril birds—scouts for the Black Dragon.
“We made it just in time,” Lyra said with a sigh. “Those birds would have sampled our auras and identified us to the Dark Realm.” She squinted to see into the depths of the tunnel and lit a soft glow in the orb of her staff. “Rona, is that you?”
“Yes. It is I, Scribe Lyra.” A keeper a head shorter than Ivri squirmed past Vickie’s wide hip. “I’m humbled to be able to serve you again.”
Lyra smiled and clasped one of the keeper’s dirty brown hands. “We need to get far west to Cerid’s Crux. Is your rowan network open?”
From under a fringe of matted, brown hair, Rona’s black pupils glinted. “Times are hard, but my dear friend Folt and I will see you there. Give just a bit of time here to smooth a tight spot.” She spun on a calloused bare heel and maneuvered to the head of the passage.
In the narrow tunnel, Vickie, Raylene, and the circutamina dug and scratched at the soil with stones to make it passable. While adjusting her position, the younger cousin arched a brow at Lyra. “Did any of those snakes get in?”
“Not that I’ve seen. Noba made quick work of killing them.” Lyra patted the familiar’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Noba is good now. Will stay on the lookout for snakes.” He set to work scanning crevices.
Cullen appeared beside Lyra. “Kenzo was injured by the blades. You need to heal him.”
She brought the light of her staff closer.
The owl extended a wing, its terminal feathers dark and crinkled with caustic venom.
Lyra passed her hand over top, careful not to contact the contamination. Much of the oily stain dissipated into the air but a shiny gray patch remained. She repeated the procedure with limited success. “Hmm. Stubborn.”
Above them, a loud thud sounded. The earth groaned and cracked, and pebbles rained down
“The Dracura are trying to collapse the tunnel,” Rona whispered in an urgent tone. “We need to move on.”
Kenzo shifted his weight from side to side. “I feel somewhat better. The dizziness is leaving. Just trim the tips of those three feathers.”
Lyra stared at his face. “Are you sure? Will you be able to fly all right? We depend on you.”
“My assistant is talented in adapting his flight.” Cullen took a break from digging and inspected the damage. “Do as he directs. We don’t have time to spare.”
“At least for a few hours you won’t need to fly.” Using a finger lit with her aura, Lyra lasered off the damaged barbules.
“I hate these tunnels,” Kenzo spat.
Ivri leaned against a rocky wall and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead to push damp, white strands from her eyes.
“Come now!” Rona called. “Better to go deep, away from the evil fumes near the surface.”
“I think we can pass now.” Ivri nodded at Cullen and pushed herself off.
They formed a single file line with Rona and Folt in the lead, Ivri taking up the rear. Tighter than tunnels in Silva Caliga, they jostled and twisted for what seemed more than an hour. Only Draora moved with ease, her translucent form flowing around obstacles. Liquid dripped from the ceiling. Dampness made the air close, and sounds of their panting echoed off the walls.
Noba darted from front to back, alert and checking for his targets.
At one point Rona stopped at a collapsed passageway. “Before we give up and surface, let me try something. “ She scratched the sidewalls with her claw-like fingernails, then plastered one of her huge, pointed ears against the surface. Moments later, a grin lit her face. “She answered.” Rona scratched some code language in reply. “We’ve tried to make this work since wartimes started.” She listened again, then jumped and squirmed between the others to head them back and take a fork in the path.
She and her keeper mates repeated this system several times and managed to keep the group safely underground so long that Lyra’s lower back ached to walk upright.
Despite the hardships, Raylene remained in good spirits while learning Rona’s communication skills, but Vickie staggered with her hands braced against her spine.
“Stop here!” Cullen called. “I sense a magnetic ley line. I need to take a break here.” He slumped to a seated position and rested his head against the wall.
Lyra raised more light from her staff. Along a three-foot wide vein, spines of shiny black rock reflected. Blue and red inclusions also dotted the ley line, revealing energy networks of both the Alliance and Dark Realm.
Vickie drooped onto her knees and arched her back with a moan. “How much longer? This is killing me.”
Draora floated behind and massaged ghostly hands into her grandniece’s deep muscles for several minutes.
“I’m not from this far west. Let me talk to the walls,” Rona replied.
“Let me give it a try now.” Raylene rushed to beat her to the side. She flipped her hair behind her shoulders and sent a series of taps and scrapes.
Folt tapped his cap with a long finger. “I’ve made the trip a few times before. Seems like we’re not too far.”
Ivri inhaled deeply and rolled her shoulders down her back. “Less evil here, if that’s a clue.”
After Vickie relaxed, Draora floated into the path of the ley line. In the magnetism, her vapors shredded into threads, and she let out a shrill choking giggle.
Gaze riveted on the witch’s contortions, Lyra took a seat beside Cullen. “I hope she’s safe.”
He shook his head, mouth hanging open.
Draora bolted from the vein and zipped back and forth along the tunnel. “I smell something new. Not putrid evil, but a rusty odor—the tarnish of old metal. It’s stronger on ahead.”
Noba spun around, waving his tail’s barb. “More snakes?”
“Does Cerid’s Crux have a typical smell?” Ivri asked Folt.
His brows lifted. “No. The desert air is dry and won’t hold much.”
Draora’s high chortle drifted down a side path. A thin film of her vapor trail hung behind like a sort of lifeline.
From where Raylene pressed an ear to the wall, she exclaimed, “Wow! I heard the reply.” She scrambled to her feet and pointed in the direction of her grandmother. “This way out.”
Kenzo curled his chopped wingtip and took off in a half-run, half flight after the pair of witches.
Chapter Eighteen: Cerid’s Crux
Lyra sprang to her feet and looked at Cullen who pushed up to join her. “Did you gain some power?”
He straightened and gave her a grin. “Yes, a bit. I can feel a difference, enough to get me through the next battle anyway. There should be at least one or two ley lines we’ll cross in the desert which I can use too.” He nodded in the direction of the echoing hollers. “What’s going on?”
Her brows rose. “No idea. I don’t understand Draora’s magic.”
They wound their way along the narrow root tunnel at the back of the group now gathered at a new blockade.
“This dead ends into sand.” Folt pressed a hand into the soft wall. “Not forest loam.” He drew back and rammed a shoulder against it. The material instantly gave way, and he fell through. Against a blinding light, his dark silhouette dropped out of sight.
Ivri gasped and ran to the opening, hands shielding her eyes. Along with Rona, she peered over the edge, then called back, “Lyra, Cullen, come quick!”
Lyra kneeled between the two keepers, arms spread wide to prevent others from falling.
Cullen held her shoulders.
Draora passed through them and floated beyond the drop off.
The passage opened onto a treeless, rocky ravine. A hundred feet below, a river slowed into a wide channel. Lyra strained against the bright sunlight to scan the wall and water beneath for any sign of the keeper’s tiny body. The dry heat beat down on her head, and sweat trickled along the nape of her neck. A lump of white hair and olive drab rose to the surface. She pointed. “I see him!”
Kenzo spread his wings and accelerated into a straight descent before leveling to hover at the surface. His great wings fanned Folt. Sparks rained from the ends of his feathers onto the keeper’s body.
Lyra grounded her kneeling posture. “Hold me while I try to lift him.”
More hands than she could count clamped onto her shoulders, waist, and legs.
She twirled her staff until the orb radiated golden aura, gave it mental guidance to encircle the keeper, then fired while opening her other palm. The mass spilled like an amber waterfall, covering not only Folt, but a wider area than she’d anticipated. Upon impact, the water turned an opalescent orange. It reminded her of the strange oily nature of the Sea of Cogadh where good and evil mixed. She curled the fingers of her open hand, and the colored patch of water tightened around the keeper who remained a lifeless mass. Too afraid to wonder if he’d died, she lifted her cupped hand above her head. The mass slowly detached from the surface and began to pull together underneath the keeper’s body. Then, suddenly, it resisted her effort and dropped against the water. She raised her arm higher. “I can’t pull him off the surface. I don’t understand. Something is opposing me.”
“It’s that rust smell, maybe coming from the water,” Draora replied. “I’ll have a look.”
Before Lyra could check the safety of their surroundings, the ghost-witch plummeted to the river.
The group huddled together, watching as she submerged.
Noba wriggled from between their legs and flew after Kenzo.
Lyra glanced back and forth from where Draora disappeared below the surface. Their tunnel opened onto a wide desert canyon. Both up and downstream, the ravine narrowed and the river rushed over rapids. Her heart pounded. If Folt was alive, they needed to rescue him before the current dashed him into that churning flow. Luckily, no attackers showed themselves, and no evil aura reached Lyra’s senses.
Noba flapped up to the tunnel opening. “Folt is alive. Has a bad cut on one leg, but Kenzo stopped the bleeding.”
Ivri clasped her hands together at her heart, and Rona jumped in place.
“There she is!” Raylene cried in Lyra’s ear.
Draora’s white braid floated at the surface outside the orange zone. She thrust a hand in the air and her body followed, rising through the air to meet them again. Fighting to push aside damp strands of hair stuck in the pruny wrinkles of her face, she extended an open palm with four crude coins each marked with an X.
Cullen shuddered, and Lyra shot him a questioning stare.
“These reek of that rust odor. They were at the bottom of the water underneath your spell, connected by a thread of orange magic. I can’t say I found them all in that murk.”
“Lyra, try again!” Ivri pleaded.
Lyra repeated her procedure, paying careful attention to each detail, but the result turned out the same. “I still can’t lift him.” She scrunched her face as she rotated the hand that directed her mass of aura.
“Drat! I must’ve missed a coin.” Draora flinched in the air, nose down and heels up with her skirt flowing above her bloomers. After a glance at Lyra, she dove again.
“The best I can do is to move him to the edge and keep hold until we can get down there.” Lyra swallowed hard.
“And how do we get down there?” Vickie asked.
“Grandma can ride us down one at a time,” Raylene offered.
“I’ll transport us all together,” Lyra said, keeping an eye on the action in the river. “Cullen, what do you know about those coins?”
“It’s currency used by the Qumeli tribe. The River Sedes marks the boundary between the Dark Realm’s Silva Nocens forest and Cerid’s Crux. Their presence in the river means trouble. They placed those coins to keep others away.”
“I didn’t feel any aura or power given off from the coins.” Once Draora surfaced, Lyra pulled her guiding hand to her side and continued, “Does that mean they’ve been there a long while? They are rusted.” She glanced back at him. “Or are some Qumeli actively trying to block us from reaching the Emtori Ruby?”
Cullen massaged her shoulder. “It’s safer to assume the worst.”
She nodded and spun a cloud of aura around the group behind her. Working to keep her guiding hand planted at her side, she slowly lifted them from the tunnel opening, then downward.
Raylene flinched at her back. Lyra hoped she wouldn’t jump out this time, but at least Draora hung nearby.
They landed on a four-foot wide ledge worn into the rock by years of river swells. The feature formed a narrow trail to the south as far as Lyra could see. She found no sign of any Qumeli people, but images of Kessa held captive by one of that tribe’s chiefs bombarded her mind.
Cullen kneeled at the orange zone of magic tethered to Lyra. Water rushed in gullies all around her enchantment, some breaking over Folt’s body.
The keeper lifted his head and moaned, “My leg,” while he attempted to reach for the gash on his left thigh.
The wizard passed a hand above the injured leg. A tear ran the length of the keeper’s canvas pant leg and revealed the end of his femur poking through exposed muscle.
Folt trembled and tensed his jaw.
Lyra stooped and leaned a shoulder into Cullen allowing him access to her aura.
After two passes, he stated, “I can’t penetrate his body. We must sever that Qumeli connection.” He reached farther and made an unsuccessful attempt to grab Folt’s arm. “I can’t even touch him.” Cullen stared at Kenzo hovering overhead. “Your magic worked…but that was before Lyra cast her spell to pull Folt from the river.”
“I didn’t find any more coins, but the water still has that smell.” Draora placed the four coins on the rock and rubbed her palm. “Land do tell! They stained my skin. What evil can they be to mark a ghost?”
Vickie squatted beside them. “Lyra, cut your spell, then we’ll grab Folt before the rapids take him.” She barked orders, “Cullen, you get on my other side and we’ll make the first grab. Raylene, Ivri, Rona, and Draora, you scatter downriver as back-ups. Kenzo and Noba, hover as close as you can.”
Folt reached his arm toward Cullen.
Once everyone took positions, Vickie directed, “Lyra, let go!”
Lyra opened her palm and reabsorbed her aura into her body. The instant the last left the river, a wave surged over Folt’s shoulder and spun him away from the edge.
Vickie and Cullen unsuccessfully grabbed handfuls of water as the keeper swept into the middle of the river.
“Damn!” Raylene cried.
Wings spread, Kenzo dropped his talons into the swirling waters. He clutched repeatedly until, finally, he snagged one of Folt’s garments.
Draora sped out beside the owl. She wrapped a trail of her magic around the cloth he held above the water and yanked with a groan. “Watch the rocks!”
The current raged harder, as if opposing their efforts, and crashed the body against a boulder. Folt let out a scream.
Kenzo flapped hard, beak open and panting, as he tried to make headway toward the ledge.
Slowly, they navigated around three big rocks to arrive in relatively calm water near the group.
Cullen leaned far over the edge with Lyra holding his waist. Vickie did the same with help from Raylene, and, together, they clamped the keeper’s arms just as an eddy swirled from underneath and whipped his legs back and forth.
They pulled him, unconscious and not breathing, onto the ledge.
Ivri kneeled at Folt’s head, caressing his long ears.
Cullen and Lyra simultaneously administered healing, attempting to clear his air passageways and restart his heart.
“He’s awake!” Ivri cried as one of Folt’s ears twitched against her palm.
Not wasting any time, the pair set to work on his broken leg.
Folt groaned when Cullen reset the separated bone.
When they closed the deep gash, his lids opened, and he managed a slight smile. “Thank you, my friends.”
After several minutes of additional work, Folt sat up, supported by Ivri. “What happened to me?” He ran a hand over the new scar running diagonally across his thigh. “I only remember falling and a sharp pain in this leg.”
“The Qumeli curse on the river kept us from rescuing you.” Raylene rubbed his thin shoulder.
“Qumeli are bad folk,” Rona hissed. “They collapse our rowan roots or worse yet, fill them with black magic to drive the keeper mad.”
Lyra met Cullen’s gaze. “It seems certain that the Qumeli cursed the river to block only my powers. They expected me. They’re here for the ruby.”
Cullen examined the coins resting on the rock. “Clearly, they didn’t block all Alliance magic since Kenzo’s worked. Their black arts are more specific than ours, targeting individuals.” He rose and motioned toward Draora. “But we have a terrific advantage—they don’t know about powers from Draora’s land. The Qumeli must have intended this as a delay. Luckily, we didn’t lose as much time as they may have expected. Let’s get going.”
Enchanted Bookstore Legends (5-book complete epic fantasy romance box set) Page 117