Page 51 of Of Steel and Scale

I stopped and scanned the tunnel ahead for any sort of threat, then drew in a deep, somewhat shuddering breath and turned. The barrier continued to burn bright, and there was no sign of Damon through it.

“Bryn?” he said, voice sharp and very distant.

“Here, safe,” I replied.Thank you, Kaia.

Welcome. She retreated from my mind enough that we regained our individuality, but not so far that I couldn’t see the barrier.Not felt this magic before.

They didn’t use it on you when they attacked?

No.

Perhaps their magic was protection-based rather than attack, and if that were true, it was at least one point in our favor. Right now, they seemed to have too many other advantages.

Damon said if we can find the pins that keep this barrier in place, we might be able to bring it down.

Who he to you?

I hesitated.He’s my husband.

Husband?

Mate.

No cinder?

I smiled at the slight note of amusement in her mental tones.Definitely not.

Will tell Gria. He magic?

Thank you, and yes. Protective magic, not attack. He won’t hurt either of you. I promise.

No like them, but trust.

Men, she meant, rather than Damon. And I could hardly blame her. Women might long have been a part of Esan’s military might, but in truth, we were but a fraction overall. It definitely took a certain mindset to want to risk life and limb in order to protect greater society.

“Have you spotted the pins?” Damon asked. “They’ll likely be on either edge, hidden from obvious sight. Destroy one, and it should short the spell and take out both.”

I wrinkled my nose and studied the nearest wall for several seconds. After a moment, I realized there was a pattern to the swirl of ribbons or whatever the hell those things actually were—they dove down into the corner, swam back up the wall, then raced across half the barrier before turning around in the middle and doing the whole loop again. I drew my sword and cautiously moved forward. In a crevice at the point where the wall met the floor was a small metallic feather. The threads were rolling around the outer edges of the feather before crawling up the wall.

“I think the pin is one of those metallic feathers,” I replied. “I can’t think of any other reason for it to be shoved into a hole in this tunnel.”

“Are you able to get your sword into the crevice?”

“Yes.” I paused. “What sort of reaction can I expect?”

“Unknown.”

“Well, that’s always fun.”

“Cleave it from a side-on angle if you can. If the pin is set to explode most of the force will go to the front rather than the sides.”

“‘Most’ is not a comforting word right now.”

He laughed. “Best I can do under the circumstances.”

I stepped sideways until only half of the feather was visible, then knelt and pressed the tip of the sword into the crevice, onto the feather. There was no response, but then, I hadn’t yet tried to damage it.

With one of those breaths that didn’t do a whole lot to calm the inner nerves—I really would rather fight a half dozen Mareritt than do something like this—I thrust the blade tip through the glittering leaf, hitting the base of the rock underneath. A sharp, bell-like chime rang through the air, and the movement of the ribbons became chaotic. Then, with a surprisingly soft and yet powerfulwhoomph, the barrier exploded. The force of it was a foul wind that sent me tumbling.

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