Page 161 of Soul Forge

“Where’s Lillian?” she asked.

“Gone.”

“Dead?”

Vel’s low snarl was answer enough. She’d abandoned them to save her own life, after everything they’d done to get to her. They were outnumbered, and the demon soul was battered. Elda’s own body throbbed from being tossed around so much, her chest burning uncomfortably from her overuse of magic.

“Stay back,” Vel warned quietly. “Only fight if your life depends on it.”

“My vestige–”

“Leave it. It’s not worth your life. Please, Varro. Stay right here and let me fight. Don’t draw their attention.”

Before she could argue, he turned and leapt, bringing his blades down to meet Arden’s staff. His chest was heaving, hisbody bleeding, but he traded blows with all three of them just to keep Elda alive.

And she stood back, Cynthia’s dagger clutched in her hands, looking on like an ornament. For all that she’d been through since leaving Eden, she was still too weak to be of help. She was someone Vel had to look out for. If she fought without her weapon, she could get him hurt, and that thought ate at her soul. How could she let it fall? Why hadn’t she held it tighter?

Something glinted in the sand nearby, and Elda tore her eyes away from the fight to see her bow twenty feet away, resting at the base of the hill it had slid down. If she had it, she could help. Her power would leave her less defenceless, and she could fight from a distance.

Vel had warned her not to move, but he was already hurt. One wrong move would be the end of him, and then she’d be dead anyway. Maybe if she had her bow, she could offer enough of a distraction for him to pick the Corrupted off one by one. They could survive.

Suddenly, she was sprinting over the slick sand. It felt wrong to leave her position after Vel’s warning, but it would only be for a few minutes while she retrieved her weapon. She kept glancing back at the fighting, wincing each time she saw him pick up new wounds.

A familiar yell of pain almost made her stop, but she forced her feet to move, slipping and sliding through the sand until her fingers closed around her bow at last. Irileth’s presence surged to meet her, filling her veins with ice.

Elda clambered back up the hill in time to see Vel take a hit from Abraxos’ mace, the spikes sinking into his wing. Lightning burned through him, and when he hit the ground, Abraxos stomped on his rib cage. Shadows flung him away, but Vel coughed blood when he sat up, staggering to his feet with one wing bleeding and singed, only to twist out of the way of theBehemoth’s snapping beak. Forks of lightning rained down on the sand, turning patches of it to shiny glass, and the giant bird sliced at Vel with its talons whenever he got too close. From her vantage point, Elda could see the storms feeding it, regenerating its missing limb. In a few minutes, it might be able to fly.

Elda’s hands trembled, her muscles vibrating with the strength of her fury. She stuck Cynthia’s dagger in the sand, ignoring Vel’s warning not to draw attention to herself, and raised her bow, praying for the first time since leaving Eden. She prayed to Aeon for strength, to Irileth for calm, and to Odessa for health, drawing back the bow string. The tiny leaves decorating the vine were thrown into sharp focus, the world stilling around her when power flooded her veins.

She felt that strange new magic crash through her, but it didn’t control her. It swirled around Irileth’s frozen core, combining with it to fill Elda with its potency. It shone from her, illuminating every strand of her hair, decorating her skin with ancient glowing runes. The arrow that coalesced sang with energy, the air vibrating around it. It took every ounce of magic she had to throw at it, its light blinding. She released a breath and let go.

The Behemoth shattered.

There was no other word for it. The hulking creature took the arrow in the centre of its chest, ice spreading across its torso in seconds, and light burned it from within, pouring from its eyes and beak, straining through its skin, until it blew apart, the frozen pieces of it scattering far and wide.

Cynthia screamed, and her magic flared, darkness drawing in from what remained of the monstrous bird. Her hair lifted, a murky glow radiating from her skin, and Elda watched her throw all that power outwards. It slammed into Vel, flinging him off his feet. When he landed, he stayed down. Elda’s cry of anguish was drowned out by Cynthia’s laughter.

The princess snatched up Lazarus and ran, no plan in her mind other than to distract the Corrupted from Vel. She fired an arrow that Arden’s fire disintegrated, but their focus successfully swivelled to her. The demon soul had told her not to fight, but she couldn’t watch him die. She couldn’t stand back and watch them take him from her.

“Poor little Princess, all alone,” the witch crooned. “Let’s see how good you are without your demon to save you.”

She leapt, swinging her whip like a woman possessed. Elda barely kept herself out of reach, and she couldn’t avoid Arden and Abraxos at the same time. Her heart thundered in her chest when Cynthia almost took her head, and she barely threw herself to the side in time to avoid the mace swinging for her eye.

A snarl came from the right. Vel was back on his feet,seething. His wounds were still open, his chest heaving, but the shadows coiled and snapped around him like snakes. Abraxos and Arden turned to face him, leaving Cynthia to taunt the princess.

She attacked in a flurry of elbows and knees and fists and boots, and all Elda could do was cover up and retreat, her arms and sides taking the brunt of each blow until her whole body throbbed and it hurt to breathe. She slashed blindly at Cynthia with the dagger, only for it to be plucked out of her hands. A boot slammed into her jaw, and she went down, tasting blood.

You failed,that poisonous voice whispered.

Elda forced herself up onto her hands and knees, rolling away from the blow Cynthia aimed at her ribs. She caught a glimpse of Vel roundhouse kicking Arden in the jaw and tearing the bo staff from his hands, but Abraxos was there with his mace again, sizzling the demon soul with his magic.

Their fight moved out of Elda’s view when she scrambled to her feet and slapped the gemstone on her bow, releasing her own dagger. Cynthia circled her, grinning broadly.

“This must be awful for you,” she taunted. “You’ve had all you could ever want your whole life. It must really sting to lose.”

“I haven’t lost yet,” Elda retorted, but her voice cracked.

“You will. I can’t wait to see you bow to Lord Malakai. He’ll be delighted by his new trophy.” She slashed suddenly, and Elda barely avoided a fatal wound along her abdomen. “I wonder how long the Soul Forge will last in his current state,” she giggled.

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