Ferra saw Naomi struggle and ran to her side.
Harrow stood and turned. His He appeared hideous, with pupils completely white and eyes sunken in his bony face. His stringy black hair fell long and matted, and his robes hung loosely on his skeletal frame.
A low, sinister laugh shook from deep in his throat. The laugh ran low and rumbled the very ground.
“I think you have heard enough.” Harrow’s terrible smile chilled. Speaking rapidly in a language Naomi did not know, he raised his arms high above his head and snapped.
Everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-one
Fight and Flight
Wild wind howled from the belly of the cave, and Naomi held on as it whipped about her. Her fingers lost hold and she began to slip. Grabbing onto the rock, she instinctively begged it for help. The rock softened and formed around her hands, gripping her tightly. It seemed impossible, but there it was. The earth had helped her yet again.
Ferra reached out for Naomi as the howling force sought to remove them all from the side of the Grand Hall. Her medallion glowed bright, her magic alight. Naomi felt the Vivatera burning with life, intense with energy.
“Come on!” Ferra yelled through tumult. She grabbed Naomi’s hand and pulled her to her feet, trying desperately to find the tunnel.
As the wind died down, arms surrounded them, tugging and pulling, scraping and gnawing, trying to tie them, to bind them.
Ferra lashed out with her staff, determined that whatever it was, it would not get her. She swung out, knocking a few hands free, but more came—many more. She swung again.
“Ow!” Landon grunted, feeling the blow of her staff on his chest.
“What is it!?” Katia’s defenses came up and her fingertips began to frost. Naomi felt the cold of the other girl’s magic begin to encircle them.
A small, dancing ball of blue light glided toward their struggle. The Arenma, dressed in white cloaks with their dark, beady little faces, surrounded their bound prisoners. Landon struggled and was both tied and gagged. Katia’s arms were wrapped tightly against her body. Ferra found herself fastened securely to her staff—all of them strung together in a great train. Naomi stood separate from the others with her hands bound.
In the dim blue light, Harrow’s startling outline crossed the catwalks. He moved with fluid grace, as if he weren’t solid, his body propelled by his blue-crystal staff—the source of the light. He spoke again in the Arenma language and many scurried away, back into the caves, leaving only a handful to deal with the prisoners.
“This is a welcome surprise.” Harrow’s voice reflected the darkest tones. “Set a trap and you never know what treasures you will find.” He directed his speech toward Ferra, who struggled with her bonds. “But as intriguing as a daughter of Prolius would be, I’m more interested in your companion.”
Ferra fought her holdings. “I’m what you want. Take me!”
“In time.” Harrow moved his staff toward Naomi. A flash flew out and hit Naomi in the chest, slamming her against the wall.
“No!” both Katia and Landon yelled, yanking at the ropes.
Naomi’s head rang with the impact, but the rock sided with her and softened her blow. She sat up, catching her breath.
Harrow sneered at Ferra. “I know why you’re here. You’re on a rescue mission. How long have you been at Mt. Ibis? I have heard of your coming.” His yellow teeth sharpened with his grin. “Effrenus, the stone of the Wild, hangs about your neck, calling for me.”
Heat surrounded Naomi as Harrow talked about the stone. Her heartbeat pulsed stronger and louder through her body. Tingling sensations flooded to her fingertips. She didn’t know how to react. She’d never experienced anything like it. Fear struck her heart. Losing control of herself, she clung to the Vivatera for help.
Ferra reacted also, feeling the stone lift from her neck. “No!” She struggled, helpless. “You know nothing of this stone. You have no claim on it.”
Harrow’s smile faded. “You are wrong, sweet princess. I have all claims on it. It is mine. The elements were stolen from me.”
“They were never yours!”
Without warning, he slapped her across the face with the back of his hand, slicing open her cheek.
“I’m what you want,” Naomi spoke up. “Don’t hurt her.”
Harrow’s head turned toward her, his stare sending chills down her spine. “Your dream-sight is powerful, little bird. Too bad your rescue will fail. Reynolds is no more.”
Naomi lost her breath. Her head began to spin. The reality she feared pressed heavy on her chest, crushing her spirit from the outside. Against her heartache, the Vivatera’s searing heat felt suddenly, strangely comfortable.
“Stop it!” Katia yelled, then seemed to wish she hadn’t as Harrow’s glare shifted momentarily toward her, then back to Ferra.
Naomi saw Landon glance down at Katia, seeming to pick up on the rage in her face and the ice forming around her fingers. He tried to inch closer to her through the bindings.
Harrow stroked Ferra’s bleeding cut with his hand, his lust apparent. “I haven’t seen fresh blood in so long. I will not take it from you. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t crave it.”
Naomi watched Harrow, disgusted. She hadn’t notice until then that her ropes had unraveled a fraction. Glancing at Landon, she could tell he had a plan, though not what it was. Landon had almost reached Katia’s hand. Maybe he needed a distraction in order for it to work.
Then she had an idea. The Vivatera would help her.
Naomi stood, the ropes falling down around her ankles. The Arenmas around her scattered, sensing her magic. She grabbed the medallion around her neck.
Harrow’s attention turned immediately to her. “Where did you get that?” His voice echoed off the crystals.
“I stole it!” Naomi’s voice rang just as clear.
The intense hunger made Harrow’s white eyes glow.
Landon reacted perfectly. He grabbed Katia’s hand, the magic moving quickly through their bodies. Ice moved up their arms to the ropes. Landon moved his wrists and shattered the ropes, pulling the icy gag from his mouth. Still holding onto Katia, he lifted her hand high and forced his magic through her.
An enormous roar echoed through the hall.
Harrow stopped. The remaining Arenmas scattered in alarm.
It emerged slowly, but the form was unmistakable: a large, white, crystallized lion rolled out before them, the mane frost-tipped, the body clear and smooth. He shook out his mane and snow flew all about, blinding and freezing as it fell.
The giant lion reared up, sending shards of ice toward Harrow.
He raised his staff to deflect the icy assault, but the lion’s roar continued, crashing against the walls and shaking the earth.
Naomi used the distraction and aimed the Vivatera at the blue crystal. A light shot from the medallion and fractured into a million different rays. Each crystal in the entire hall lit up, a hum of life accompanying the glowing rock.
Harrow, enraged by the onslaught of magic, created a powerful cyclone surrounding him.
Landon lifted his arm forward again, and the lion headed straight for Harrow.
Sparks and shards collided, scattering in a brilliant display, filling the hall with dancing snow and falling ash. Harrow disappeared.
Naomi collapsed, letting go of the Vivatera, which cooled and slid back in place next to her chest.
Pull away from the rock! an inner voice screamed in her ear, reverberating through the stone. She moved her hand away and the vibrations stopped.
Landon let go of Katia’s hand. “Come on,” he yelled as he ran over to Ferra and untied her.
Naomi moved forward.
“No!” Ferra shouted. “Go back and hide.”
“I’m ready to help—”
Ferra cut her off. “He’s not gone. He’s traveling through the rock, alerting the others. He’ll come after you first.”
The doors in the large hall sw
ung open, and the sounds of swiftly moving feet approached. The time had come to find out how prepared they really were.
~*~
Harrow’s voice rang through the hallways and pathways of the cave, the vibrations causing everything to shake. The Louvings immediately went on alert. Three returned from the Hall, two girls hauling their prisoner and a dark Louving standing guard. All stopped dead in their tracks to listen.
Taren also listened. His magic felt the vibrations, hearing the message instructed instructions for the Louvings.
He sat, perched on a small ledge in the tunnel leading to the Grand Hall. The small cove gave him a full view of what happened below. He expected to see the Stains from the Echoes, but he hadn’t expected to see Micah.
The Louvings dragged the boy back to a holding chamber. Blood smeared his face. Micah might be odd, but he had his uses. Taren couldn’t have him die at the hands of such worthless creatures.
At that moment, Micah turned to Taren, communicating through his look. Somehow, suddenly, there was a connection between the two of them. Micah had understood Harrow’s message loud and clear: The trap worked. The girl is here. Kill the intruders! Bring me the stones.
Taren watched the Louvings carefully, waiting for his opportunity. Tucked deep in his vest pocket rested his knife. The small blade, though inconvenient for swordplay, hid a deadly secret. The metal hilt still bore his family crest, rubbed smooth but legible. It had been used once to kill, but not by him. He had never used it for anything but his own amusement. Tonight, he would use it for more, if needed. The thought turned his insides cold.
“Fronzi?” the one with dark braids asked as the last of the vibrations faded. “What does he mean by the girl? What girl?”
“Reynolds’ girl.” Fronzi turned her head side to side in order to hear the full message. “Stay here with him, Browneyes, while I go look.”
The one called Browneyes rolled her eyes. “I’m not staying here. Urick can stay with him.”
“Your captive is coming with us back into the Hall.” The dark male referred to as Urick didn’t look like the kind of Louving to be ordered around. He pulled out an intimidating sword from his waist. “Something happened in the Hall.”
Other Louvings joined the girls, each one arguing about Harrow’s message.
“Stop, everyone!” Urick yelled at the others as he raised his hands to calm them. “Stick to the plan. I’ll get the girl. Leave no one else. Harrow’s orders.”
“Does that mean this one?” Fronzi pointed to the roped Micah.
The group of a dozen Louvings now stood near the poor tied-up figure of Micah, their eyes shining with a strange hunger, inhuman and morbid. Urick grinned. “I think he qualifies, don’t you?”
Taren’s reaction came as impulse. With a swift leap, he landed near Micah. The Louvings barely had time to register what had happened before Taren pulled sharply on the rope, whipping it toward them and sending little Micah flying with it. He felt sorry about using him as a weapon, but surprisingly Micah reacted, coiling himself into a ball as he came toward the others. He hit the Louvings, knocking a few down.
Before they recovered from the surprise, Taren whipped the rope again and again. The rope felt as dry as a grass reed and heated immediately at his touch. As it began to glow, it burned his fingers, but he withstood the relatively small discomfort compared to hungry Louvings.
The fire smoldered down the length of the rope until it singed Micah. He yelped in pain, losing his concentration. Taren yanked the rope again and it snapped, sending them both flying. Micah hit the wall and slid down, dazed. Taren tumbled backward but quickly recovered and jumped to his feet, unharmed.
The Louvings swarmed again, this time in anger. Fronzi looked especially menacing, having been whacked by Micah repeatedly. Taren caught sight of a Louving in the back, not threatening but curiously staring at him. He felt familiar, but in those few calculated seconds, he pushed the feeling aside and stood ready to defend.
Taren felt the magic inside him screaming to get out, ready to destroy the Louvings. His body began to tremble as the rage coursed through his veins. It needed an outlet or it would consume him.
He bent down and grabbed a handful of stones. They instantly burned like lava and he threw them at his attackers. The rock exploded, popping and sizzling around the Louvings, causing panic and confusion. Some retreated and hid, but others advanced towards him again with fury in their eyes.
Taren headed closer to Micah, protecting him from further harm. “Come on!”
Micah shook himself awake. The faces of the Louvings were coming at them from every direction. Micah rubbed his fingertips. The dust gathered around his hands in rolling whirlwinds, and he blew it at the Louvings, blinding them.
Taren launched another big rock which exploded like fireworks around the dazed Louvings. The distraction worked.
Ducking through the dust, he sprang toward the opening, snagging little Micah under his arms as he went. He ran toward a faint blue light before him. Suddenly, his eyes were dazzled as they entered the splendor of the Grand Hall.
“Micah!” a voice echoed around the hall, coming from above.
Taren looked up, his eyes connecting with Naomi, a look of horror visible on her beautiful face. His magic inside ignited with the hunger once more.
She was hunched down near the rim of a cliff above him. A girl with a long bow staff stood beside her, someone Taren hadn’t seen before. They were all in danger. The Louvings wouldn’t stop. He had to find a way to her. “They’re coming!” he shouted in warning.
The next moment, the Louvings rushed into the hall behind him, swords and other weapons in their hands and bloodlust in their faces. Chaos broke out.
Taren dropped Micah in time to turn and create a wall of dragon fire behind them. The scorching heat deflected some attackers but fueled others. His eyes landed on the one named Browneyes, clearly one of the most dangerous. An inner intensity resonated through her narrow brow.
Browneyes stared Taren down, but something above distracted her. Taren turned his focus up to see Landon and Katia crossing the crystal bridge.
Eyes rolling into the back of her head, Browneyes let out a high-pitched shriek. Everything around the room began to shatter—ornate statues, glass ornaments, stalagmite sculptures.
Cracks began to appear in the blue crystal bridge. Landon and Katia scrambled back, but the bridge shattered under them. The girl near Naomi tried to use her staff to help, but she also slipped, and hung over the edge. Naomi grabbed her hand as the bridge fell. It crashed with the glass onto the polished floor below, taking Landon and Katia with it.
Katia screamed as shards flew about the entire hall, cutting and piercing skin.
Naomi crawled to the edge, attempting to leverage the dangling girl with the staff, but her weight couldn’t do it.
The smell of blood filled the air. Like sharks taunted by a fresh kill, the Louvings turned toward the victims of the fall.
His concentration shattered, Taren’s heat shield vanished. Three Louvings advanced on him. He cupped his hand over a broken rock, and a fistful of smoldering embers appeared. He blew gently, igniting them, before hurling the fiery rocks at the Louvings. They shouted in pain and slapped at the flames with their arms. The distraction gave Taren enough time to scale up a teetering statue and away from them. From that vantage, he could see the entire room.
Down below, Taren could see a look of panic covering Landon’s face. His magical strength—creating confusion, beguilement, and charm—couldn’t compete with that type of onslaught. Landon tried to charm them. “Are you sure you want to harm us? We’re more of an asset to you than you think.”
The Louvings stopped and blinked at him momentarily but then moved forward again.
“Forget it, then.” Landon shrugged as he pulled out his sword.
The tall Louving, Urick, advanced with his own sword drawn—a nasty scimitar with a jagged blade which didn’t cut, but mangled. The weapon looke
d intimidating but wasn’t created for swordplay—rather, as a clumsy weapon of torture.
The first swing proved it. The Louving swung heavy overhead, like a club. Landon sidestepped it perfectly. The next blow came from the side, which Landon dodged and parried. Then Landon thrust forward, blocked, and sliced. His weapon moved with ease, gliding lightly in the air.
On the other side of the hall, Micah ran toward the Louvings advancing on Landon and Katia. He began rubbing his fingers and talking to the crystal scattered on the ground. Swirls of the shards spun in little cyclones.
“Nice try.” Fronzi struck him hard on the head with a rock. He crumpled to the ground.
Taren couldn’t allow the Louving to win. He threw a flame burst directly at Fronzi, hitting her on the back of the head. The blow knocked her off her feet and ignited her hair. Her tough façade melted as she screamed, rolling and smothering the flames. The smell of singed hair and flesh filled the humid cave.
Fronzi screamed in horror. Micah forgotten, she turned her spite to Taren. He read her magic: she wanted to cut him, to kill him, to taste him, to be him. She wanted his death. She was no longer playing a game.
Taren moved up the statues, scaling the cave wall like a monkey. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move higher up in the cave tunnels. Naomi? He turned quickly to the spot where she had been, but she wasn’t there.
The girl Naomi had tried to help had fallen onto the stone floor. She spun around, picking up her broken staff and facing the oncoming Louvings. Using both hands, she thrust the staff side to side, knocking them down one by one.
Taren finally reached the highest ledge and looked back down the dizzying cathedral. He tried to find Naomi, but she had disappeared down the tunnels. Fronzi no longer followed him, heading instead for Micah, who caught her with his cyclone of glass shards. Taren scanned again around the Grand Hall, searching for Naomi. She was too important to lose.
Vivatera (Vivatera Series Book 1) Page 25