Page 90 of Silent Lucidity

The bright flash of the device’s detonation was visible even through his eyelids, and the boom—amplified by the stone walls, floor, and ceiling—deafened him, leaving a loud, insistent ringing in his ears. He slitted his eyes as he darted forward; the daevahs had their forearms over their eyes, energy blades held vertically in a blind, uncertain defense.

Heartbeat thumping in his head, Tenthil dove forward.

The daevahs lashed out with their weapons simultaneously. The energy blades sliced through the air over Tenthil’s back as he dropped low and rolled between his foes, catching himself on one knee behind them. With one foot, he spun himself around, pivoting on his knee, and swung his weapon backhanded. The blade traced a wide arc from one wall to the other, cleaving through both daevahs at their waists.

Tenthil stood up as the twins fell, their torsos separating from their legs on the way down.

Apart from the bodies, the hallway was empty, and silence reasserted itself as the ringing in Tenthil’s ears gradually subsided. He deactivated the blade, tossed the hilt into his left hand, and drew the blaster from his right hip before continuing onward. The corridors were increasingly dark and devoid of life. Tenthil felt as though he were tumbling ever deeper into space, into emptiness, and the only possible destination was the Void itself. He was charging head-first into the darkness that terrified so many people.

But Tenthil harbored no fear; wherever his mate was, he would go to her. He would follow her beyond the universe’s edge.

A right turn led him to the stairs, which he climbed quickly and cautiously, keeping his blaster at the ready. But the stairs were clear, as was the hallway into which they let out. His suspicions peaked as he moved through the corridors leading to the main hall, where only the cold, faceless statues in the alcoves along its length greeted him.

Tenthil had never liked those statues.

As he stalked down the hallway toward the ominous door at its end, checking every alcove and side-corridor, his rage blazed anew. He had no idea how many acolytes dwelled in this temple—no one did save the Master and, perhaps, his second-in-command—but Tenthil knew he hadn’t killed them all. Not even close.

When Tenthil was within ten paces of the Master’s chamber, a black-clad figure stepped out from the righthand alcove nearest the door. He knew her before she reached up and pulled back her hood—the resentment in her stance was unmistakable.

Corelthi’s eyes were blazing as they met Tenthil’s. “He wouldn’t let me hunt you.”

Tenthil stopped and resisted the instinct to shoot the volturian acolyte; heknewAbella was somewhere behind that door, and there was too great a risk of the bolt penetrating into the room and harming her.

“Even after all this, he’s still going easy on you.” Corelthi sneered and stepped forward, offering Tenthil a glimpse of the blaster in her right hand. “You’ve killed what, twenty-five of our brothers and sisters now? Thirty? His judgment is clouded when it comes to you, wretch. No more lives will be sacrificed to capture you.”

She raised her blaster. “Iam going to do what should’ve been done long ago.”

Tenthil leapt aside as she fired. He rolled into the cover of the nearest alcove, plasma bolts zipping through the air behind him. Several shots sizzled through the wall over his head, dropping tiny globs of molten stone onto his clothing.

He ducked as low as he could, ignoring the searing sting of the falling debris. She’d change the angle of her fire soon, and when she did, his cover would count for little. It was all a matter of luck; if she struck his armor, he’d have a chance, but if she hit his head…

The blaster fire ceased, and Tenthil’s sensitive ears picked up a faint clicking—the sound of a blaster’s power output being adjusted.

Tenthil sprang out of the alcove. Corelthi tracked him with the blaster, squeezing its trigger; the weapon produced a familiar high-pitched whine as it charged. Before he landed on the floor, Tenthil activated the energy blade in his left hand and threw it.

Corelthi’s eyes widened.

The whirling energy blade struck her weapon just as it was about to fire its supercharged blast.

Tenthil slid behind one of the statues as Corelthi’s blaster exploded. Intense heat swept past him, and the dark hallway was momentarily illuminated by near-blinding light. He gritted his teeth and slitted his eyes.

The heat and light faded after only a second or two. Releasing a ragged breath, Tenthil stood up to survey the damage.

An almost spherical, three-meter-wide chunk of the hallway—floor, walls, and ceiling—had been blasted away, parts of it still glowing orange with heat. Dark scorch marks extended beyond the sphere, and the floor was littered with flakes of ash and blackened rubble. Nothing remained of Corelthi.

Tenthil strode past the destruction as he drew the hilt of his spare energy blade, avoiding the patches of molten stone, and continued down the hall. When he finally reached the door to the Master’s chamber, he didn’t slow; he grasped the handle and tugged it open hard enough for it slam against the wall.

He stepped through the doorway, and his heart skipped a beat.

Abella sat on the chair in the center of the circular room. Her head was tilted to the side, cheek resting on her shoulder. A sheen of sweat glittered on her face, accented by the column of light from overhead, her skin was paler than ever, and there were bags under her eyes.

Her chest expanded and eased with a slow breath that disturbed the strands hair hanging in front of her face. The dark bruise on her cheek and the trail of dried blood leading down from her nose were sure evidence of the Master havinginterrogatedher.

As his anger flared to new heights, Tenthil was torn. His instincts screamed; they both demanded he go to her and insisted that doing so would be his end. Lowering his guard for even an instant would grant the Master more than enough time to strike.

The door slammed shut behind Tenthil, and he was suddenly aware of a presence—the Master’s presence.

“Finally returned to us,” the Master said, his voice flowing from the thick shadows ringing the room, “and all because of this weak, soft creature.”

---