Page 71 of The Shadow Wand

Fallon’s scream sends a bolt of fear exploding inside me.“You BITCH!”

I throw myself around a bend just as several icicles slam into the wall behind me, decimating a portrait of our former High Mage.

Stunned by her use of attack magic and fueled by a desperate will to survive, I fly down another hallway, then another, then dive into a populated room, shoving people aside as I run, a gray-haired matron sending up a cry of alarm. I bump into a Urisk woman, her tray of hors d’oeuvresflying clear out of her hands.

There’s a trail of exclamations and crashing in my wake, room after room.

“You SLUT!”Fallon cries out from behind me, fueling my speed.“I’m going to KILL you!”

Ice streams over the crowded floor, the frosty edge of it speeding under my stockinged feet, the room erupting into chaos. I almost slide backward, but my reflexes are prey-sharp. Pulse racing, I duck down, splay my arms out to maintain my balance, and slide over the ice and straight through a side exit.

I smack into the wall before me and roll quickly away from the exit as more ice spikes hurl through it to impale several potted ferns, the pots shattering in a fusillade of porcelain.

More crashing and cursing behind me as I renew my flight, breathlessly realizing that I’ve gained a small time advantage.

She can’t cross the ice quickly in her fancy shoes.

With renewed vigor I take a sharp turn left and loop back in the direction I’ve come from, then duck into a hall going the other direction, with no pattern, desperate to throw her off my trail.

Fallon’s yelling becomes fainter. The music and exclamations of distress muted. The hallway I’m now running down is deserted, the sound of my labored breathing dangerously loud to my ears. A cramp stabs into my side as I run and run, the music now nonexistent. I race down countless hallways and rooms, the lighting increasingly dim, wooden walls giving way to stone.

I spot a door ahead and duck into a deserted room, then stumble to a stop and grasp at the back of a broad chair in the faintly lit room. Doubled over, I catch my breath and listen.

Nothing.

I stare at the black tree pattern on the stone floor as my breathing slows, the cramp in my side loosening to almost tolerable.

I slowly raise my head only to come face-to-face with the oil painting that dominates the entire wall before me.

It depicts an Icaral. An Icaral like Yvan. Being impaled by multiple spears as Gardnerian soldiers lord over him. And above them all, the Ancient One, in the familiar form of the white bird. Looking down upon the gruesome scene with benevolent approval.

My gut wrenches and I fall back as nausea sweeps through me.

I have to get away from here. Away from all of them.

I stumble out of the room’s back exit and lurch down another deserted hall, everything now carved in stone. I race under the elaborate vaulted ceiling, the image of trees embossed on its surface, the smell of salt water growing sharp on the air. Stripes of moonlight mark the stone floor, streaming in from repeating arched windows high up on the stone walls. The sound of the rhythmic lapping of waves is now present, the temperature cooling.

I round a corner, exit through a heavy wooden door, and step onto a deserted balcony.

Wind whips at my hair and I’m immediately accosted by vertigo, waves crashing on rocks far below, the turbulent Voltic Sea spread out before me, that odd line of glowing green stretching over the water in the far distance.

I realize I’m at the rear of the Mage Council Hall, which is built right inside the bluff, the windows on every level of this side blessedly dark. I draw back in awe at the overpowering height of the Styvius Bluff.

Gigantic trees are cut into the flat bluff stone. They rise from a turbulent ocean that crashes against night-blackened rocks at the bluff’s faraway bottom, the waves’ crests a foamy silver in the moonlight. A series of stone stairs and balconies to my left lead ever upward, winding through carved branches and limbs, toward the top of the staggeringly high wall of stone. The network of stairs and balconies terminates close to the bluff’s apex, this last balcony sheltered by a stone canopy of carved leaves. I squint up at the terminal balcony. It curves clear around the bluff, and I wonder where it leads.

Perhaps to a way out.

Trying to ignore the dizzying height, I avoid looking down at the crashing surf and set off at a run up the stone stairs, across a balcony, then up more stairs and another balcony, ever upward toward the top.

When I reach the highest balcony, I sprint around the bluff’s corner and skid to a dead end.

The balcony is bathed in moonlight. A bench is cut right into the bluff’s stone, carved vines framing it. The view from this balcony is incredible, the height unfathomable. Breathing hard, I cautiously move toward the balcony’s stone balustrade.

I can’t see the Council Hall anymore; the bend in the bluff is too sharp. And I can’t see the city of Valgard, which lies just beyond another sharp, irregular bend in the bluff. I wince as a huge wave crashes onto the black rocks below. More stars make an appearance as the moonlight-limned clouds continue to move out.

I listen carefully for the sound of pursuit.

Nothing.

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