Page 21 of Magic Undaunted

“We move together,” Elyria said, her mind already working through the puzzle of how to dismantle the traps. “Lirael, you keep an eye on the guardians. They’ll come to life the moment we trip one of the wards. Finnian, you’re with me. We’ll need to disable the magic around them.”

Stryker stepped forward, his gaze locked on hers. “I’ll handle the traps.”

Elyria’s heart skipped a beat at the way he said it—so confident, so sure of himself. She hated how much she still relied on that confidence, how much she still trusted him despite everything.

But now wasn’t the time to argue.

“Fine,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “But stay close. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

Together, they moved into the chamber, their steps slow and deliberate, every breath measured. Elyria could feel the magic thrumming around them, a living thing, coiled and ready to strike the moment they faltered. She worked quickly, her fingers weaving through the strands of magic that connected the traps to the guardians, her mind racing to dismantle them before they triggered.

Beside her, Stryker was a force of calm, his movements precise as he navigated the labyrinth of traps with a practiced ease. There was something about the way he worked, the way his skill seemed to flow so naturally with her magic, that reminded her of the way they had once fought side by side—like two halves of a whole, perfectly in sync.

“You’re still good at this,” Stryker murmured, his voice low as they disabled another trap.

Elyria glanced at him, her pulse quickening at the intensity in his gaze. “So are you.”

He gave a faint smile, but there was a weight behind it, something unsaid that lingered between them. “I never stopped thinking about us. About what we could’ve been.”

Elyria’s heart stuttered, but she forced herself to focus, to push down the emotions swirling inside her. “This isn’t the time, Stryker.”

He nodded, but his eyes never left hers, the tension between them crackling in the air. “Maybe not. But it’s the truth.”

Before she could respond, a soft hum filled the air, the telltale sign of a trap springing to life. Lirael’s voice rang out, sharp and clear. “The guardians!”

The stone figures around the room began to move, their eyes glowing brighter as they stirred from their ancient slumber, their massive forms shifting with deadly intent. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the guardians advanced, their weapons raised.

“Fall back!” Elyria shouted, her heart racing as she summoned her magic, the familiar surge of power flowing through her veins. Stryker was already at her side, shifting, his wings flaring as he moved to protect her, their movements perfectly aligned, just like old times.

The battle was swift and brutal. Stryker took to the air, disorienting the guardians as Lirael’s arrows flew through theair, striking them with deadly precision, while Finnian’s blades flashed in the dim light, cutting through the enchanted stone. Elyria wove her magic through the chaos as they fought as a team, their connection stronger than it had ever been.

But it wasn’t just the battle that stirred something inside Elyria. It was the way they moved together, the way their bodies and magic seemed to recognize each other, as if no time had passed. She hated how much she still needed him, how much she still wanted him.

And she could feel him watching her, too, his eyes dark with something raw and unspoken.

When the last guardian fell, the chamber grew quiet again, the air thick with the lingering energy of the fight. Elyria stood panting, her heart racing as she looked around at the fallen figures, their once-lethal forms now nothing but crumbled stone and broken metal.

“We did it,” Finnian muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow.

But Elyria’s attention was elsewhere. Her gaze had already shifted to the far end of the chamber, where closed, ancient stone doors began to open slowly, revealing a faint light within.

The heart of the library.

Without a word, she moved toward the door, her pulse quickening with every step. Stryker followed close behind, his presence a steady, comforting weight even as her mind raced with the implications of what they might find.

They stepped inside a room bathed in a soft, golden light. Shelves of ancient tomes lined the walls, but it was the massive stone pedestal in the center of the room that drew their attention. Upon it lay a single scroll, its surface glowing faintly with magic.

Elyria’s breath caught as she approached the scroll, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. This was it. It had to be. Here lay the answers they had been searching for.

She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as she unrolled the parchment. Her eyes scanned the ancient writing, her heart sinking as the horrifying truth became clear.

“The weapon…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s not just a weapon. It’s designed to unravel the very fabric of the fae realm. If the mage completes it, he won’t just destroy us—he’ll destroy everything.”

Stryker’s jaw tightened, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder. “We’ll stop him. We have to. It doesn’t matter what it takes, he and those who support him cannot be allowed to win.”

Elyria looked up at him, finally seeing him for who he was. She had always known the stakes were high, but this—this was beyond anything she had ever imagined. The rebels couldn’t do this alone. For better or worse, she and her people were going to have to trust Stryker. She just hoped it wouldn’t cost them everything.

Chapter

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