Page 82 of Fading Sun

My entire body feels drained. Like I’ve run a marathon and then some.

I’m on the ground, gasping for breath.

We did it.

The Buddha is gone. There’s only a hole in the wall in his wake, revealing another chamber.

Catching my breath, I examine my arms. They should be mauled by the explosion of stone. Every bit of exposed skin should be.

But there’s nothing.

I look around, curious about where all the shards went.

They’re scattered on the ground a few feet in front of us, the majority having been pushed out toward the walls. As if they were blown out of our way by the wind.

Damien.

He protected us from the explosion.

The crystals in my hands, miraculously, stayed intact.

Well, not miraculously.

Thanks to Blaze’s spell to make them indestructible.

“Amber!” Damien’s voice cuts through the haze of shock and exhaustion. He’s by my side in an instant, his hands gentle but firm as he helps me to my feet. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say, steadying myself. “Just tired.”

Morgan and Blaze are already on their feet, looking equally exhausted, but also triumphant.

Damien wraps an arm around my waist, leaving me more breathless than I was after the explosion knocked me to the floor. “Let’s get out of here,” he says. “We need to be in the next chamber before that thing gathers himself back together and blocks the exit again.”

I nod, leaning into him for support as we make our way through the gap in the wall where the Buddha used to be.

Honestly, I could walk on my own. But I like being this close to Damien, especially since I’m sure it won’t be long until he snaps back into his unemotional haze of the past few days and pulls away again.

And so, knowing how hurt I’ll feel when he does pull away, I protect my heart and do it first.

Morgan

The moment we step into the next chamber, a wave of ancient power washes over me, making the hair on my arms stand on end.

The chamber is vast, its high ceiling disappearing into darkness, the walls adorned with intricate carvings. My magic flickers to life as it connects to the torches lining the walls, their flames casting shadows that dance across the polished stone floor, providing warmth in the otherwise cold space.

A large, serene statue of a Buddha sits at the far end of the room, its eyes closed in meditation. In front of it, on an elaborately carved pedestal, is a large, sacrificial bowl. Glowing, gold liquid swirls inside it.

“Wow,” I say, looking around. “This place is incredible.”

Amber, standing next to me, nods in agreement. “It feels sacred,” she says. “Ancient.”

“Stay alert,” Damien says, his eyes fixed on the Buddha, as if he’s preparing for the statue to attack. “We don’t know what kind of challenge we’re facing here.”

Blaze smirks, his eyes gleaming with anticipation, his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his dagger. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it,” he says.

He looks stunningly beautiful with the firelight dancing across his strong features, and my heart leaps at the memory of the kiss we shared in the woods. But I force myself to look away from him, gazing around at the carvings on the walls instead.

They depict scenes of selflessness and sacrifice from various cultures and eras. Warriors laying down their lives for their comrades, mothers protecting their children, leaders giving everything for their people.

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