Page 107 of The Iron Flower

“We need to stop,” I protest frantically, panic building. “Stop the horse, Valasca!”

Valasca glances back at me with a rakish smile. “Hold on to your head, Gardnerian.” She snaps the reins and urges the horse faster.

A scream takes form in my throat as the cliff barrels toward us.

In unison, all of the Amaz thrust their arms out, palms flat, fingers splayed open. Glowing crimson runes spring to life on the backs of their hands as we race toward the line of larger runes and the precipitous drop. Valasca’s palm smashes into a huge rune and blinding red light rays out from her hand. A huge, translucent dome encasing the entire valley briefly flashes into view above and around us, warm air enveloping us all.

“Auuughhhhh!” I cry out as we gallop straight for the cliff’s edge.

Just as we reach the cliff, flat, circular runes burst into life at its edge and multiply out like a swarm of insects to rapidly form a crimson road suspended high in the air. I clamp my arms around Valasca as our horse seamlessly rides off the stone road and onto the rune-road.

Swept up with a dizzying vertigo and desperate relief, I take in the startling view. The rune-road continues to form ahead of us as we ride out over the city, the runes multiplying at incredible speed.

Valasca holds up an arm, and everyone slows to a canter, then to a trot.

My heart racing, my breathing staggered, I loosen my death grip on Valasca’s waist, and she gives a low chuckle. I note, with pure amazement, that it’s summer here, the frosty sting in my cheeks giving way to a flushed, prickling heat. Green-leafed trees, gardens and farms are spread throughout the entire valley, many of the farms set under geometric glass domes marked with huge scarlet runes.

“How is it summer?” I ask Valasca, overcome with awe.

“Advanced rune-sorcery,” she says with a grin, then points up. “You might have noticed the dome.”

I look up, nothing visible above but the star-strewn night sky. “What would happen if someone tried to fly a dragon through that dome?” I wonder.

Valasca’s chest jostles with laughter. “A rather large explosion. Flying limbs. A blood-streaked sky. I’d say that it’s not advised.”

I raise my brow at this.Good, I think. At least the Amaz might have a chance of withstanding a Gardnerian military assault.

Below us, Elfin-style buildings are carved into the Spine’s northern face, curving like seashells and giving way to a dome-covered forest filled with strange trees. “That’s our University,” Valasca tells me.

“I’ve never seen trees like that before,” I marvel.

“Those are the University research gardens,” Valasca says proudly. “We have plants from all over Erthia.”

The rune-road zips out before us toward a glowing red pole rising up from the center of the city. There’s a large disc atop the pole, and our rune-road slams into it with a burst of red light.

As we ride out onto the enormous disc, the rune-road disappears behind us, fading back toward the Spine as fast as it formed, then blinks out of sight.

“Holy Ancient One in the heavens above,” I gasp, letting out a long, shuddering breath as I watch the road disappear.

Valasca gives a hearty laugh. “It’s always fun to watch people experience that for the first time.”

Diana’s looking around at the panoramic view with relaxed curiosity, completely unfazed. Ni Vin also seems unaffected by our death-defying entrance. Only Marina meets my gaze with a wide-eyed look of lingering fright.

“Weren’t you the least bit scared?” I say to Diana rather shrilly.

She blinks at me as if I’m being a tad alarmist. “I smelled no fear from their entire party. It was clear some sorcery would create our path.”

I flinch as the disc we’re standing on starts to descend down the central pole like a wheel on an axle, the horses fidgeting. The pole, close up, is as thick as a mammoth tree trunk, and formed by a long stack of glowing, rotating scarlet runes.

“How did your people build a road like this?” I ask Valasca, astonished.

Valasca shoots me a sly look. “Our rune-sorceresses bring together runic systems from all of our origin cultures. When we combine them, we can do more with them.” Her smile widens. “It gives us an incredible edge.”

“I thought rune-sorcery was rare.”

“It is. We only have twelve rune-sorceresses,” she tells me. “But they span almost every tradition in the known world. What they lack in numbers, they make up for in diversity. Which leads to enhanced power.”

I look around, astonished by what they’ve accomplished with their rune-sorcery. Gardnerian wand magic pales in comparison to some of the things they’ve created here.

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