Page 80 of Ties of Legacy

The beast lunged again, growling when the row of steel blades didn’t waver. Gathering its weight on its hind legs, it snarled and leaped into the air. Its size and powerful limbs sent it soaring all the way over the heads of the row of swordsmen. The leader with the lamp shouted a warning, but the creature had already crashed down almost on top of Elliot’s row.

Chaos ensued as everyone scattered to either side, the formation lost. Elliot sprinted instinctively forward, heading forthe lamp—not because of the light it provided but because of his own connection with it. He couldn’t afford to grow weak while in the cave.

Shouts and cries and the ring of steel echoed through the cave, the noise driving the creature to new heights of fury as it snarled and snapped, lunging toward first one man and then another.

Elliot heard orders shouted from all directions, but he couldn’t hear any of the words clearly over the noise. One of the men tried to back away from the approaching creature only to trip over some loose stones and fall hard on his back.

The older fighter with the lamp immediately strode forward to stand protectively over the fallen man, lamp raised in one hand and sword in the other. But holding the lamp compromised his fighting stance, so Elliot rushed to stand beside him.

Being so near the lamp gave him an extra surge of strength, and he held his ground as the beast approached, quivering and howling. It swiped at the lamp holder, enormous claws extended, but at the last moment it swerved away, aiming for Elliot instead.

Bringing his sword up to parry like it was a club, he hacked into the beast’s leg. The creature howled in rage and pain and spun on the spot, lashing out in all directions. Elliot was knocked flying while the lamp holder was flung the opposite way. As he fell, the lamp was flung from his hand, arcing high into the air as it soared away from them.

A clump of swordsmen rushed forward to defend the men on the ground, and Elliot knew his attention should have been on the beast still thrashing around dangerously near him. But instead his eyes were on the lamp.

Lying flat on the ground, his eyes were on the same level as the lamp, and he watched it, time seeming to slow as it bouncedbetween the feet of the fighting men before being kicked even further into the cave.

Even so, the lamp didn’t go out, and in the complete darkness of the cave, its effect was enough to make a difference, even from a distance. Casting a faint but discernible light, it lay where it had been kicked while the men kept their focus on the beast, not able to seek for it.

Elliot felt the familiar nausea surging through him. He tried to climb to his feet only to stagger and crash back to his knees. Why was he so weak? Had his first fall already weakened him, and thus exacerbated the symptoms, or had the lamp been damaged in some way, making its hold on him stronger? Either way, he needed to get closer to it, even if that meant crawling. He would fetch the lamp and bring it back to the fight. In that small way, he could aid his comrades, at least.

But before he could move, an archer seized him under the arms and started dragging him back toward the cave mouth, away from the lamp. He tried to struggle and protest, but his symptoms intensified as he was moved further away from the lamp, making his protests look like foolhardy bravado.

The fight had moved to one side of the cavern where the remaining swordsmen had formed a ring that gave the beast no retreat. Their move had opened a window for the archers to drag any wounded from the caves, and they were wasting no time in completing their task.

“Please,” Elliot cried, his voice coming out hopelessly weak, “I need to get further inside.”

“Peace,” the man dragging him said. “You drew first blood, you know. There’s no need to prove your valor further.”

“No.” Elliot shook his head, trying to clear it enough to think clearly. “No, I need to get to the lamp.”

“They’ve light enough to see,” his rescuer assured him. “The fight is going well. It will be over soon.”

“No. Please.” Even to his own ears, Elliot’s weakened pleas weren’t convincing.

He was only serving to make himself look foolish. But the further away he was dragged, the worse his symptoms became. He could barely see, his head was spinning so badly, and if he went any further, he would be sick all over the cave floor.

He shuddered to think what would happen then. They would likely take it as a sign of the extent of his injuries and attempt to carry him straight back to town. If that happened…

Elliot thrashed as they neared the cave mouth, his fear fueling a last burst of renewed strength. He should have confided his secret to Corbett, at least. No one here knew what was wrong or the danger they were putting him in by removing him from the lamp. If someone didn’t?—

“Elliot!” A beautifully familiar voice screamed his name from the cave mouth.

With the light shining behind her, Avery was little more than a silhouette, but he would have recognized her in an even more confused state. Avery had come. He was saved.

She ignored the shouted warnings of the other archers and ran into the front of the cave, dropping to her knees beside Elliot.

“Where are you hurt?” she gasped, and when he didn’t immediately answer, she looked up at the archer who still had him under the arms. “What happened? Where is he hurt?”

“I’m not sure,” the man said, clearly thrown off balance by her unexpected arrival. “He was knocked down and is too weak to stand.”

“Too weak? He’s not bleeding?”

“Avery…” Elliot managed to say, wondering why his voice was only a whisper.

She looked down at him, her eyes meeting his before widening and looking further into the cave.

“The lamp,” she breathed, and he managed to nod.

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