Page 90 of Mostly Shattered

I peer down at them, refusing to leave them behind.

“Go!” Anthony waves his arm for Costin to go with me. “I’ll try to keep him back.”

Draakmar barrels forward, his massive tail slamming into the stone walls, sending chunks of rock crashing down.

“Cave in the tunnel,” Costin says. “That should slow him down.”

Before I can protest the plan, Costin is crawling out of the tunnel. Anthony throws magic at the ceiling, violently swinging his arms as he causes it to collapse into a pile of rubble, just as Draakmar unleashes another torrent of flames.

Screams come from part of the city. I hear structures crumbling from the quaking earth. I reach into the tunnel for my brother. Costin helps me pull him out of the hole.

Anthony clutches his stomach. He looks drained and battle worn. He leans against a wall, wheezing. “Get to the troll and kick this monster’s ass!”

Anthony gives me a lopsided grin and winks.

“Get home and get everyone to safety,” I order him. “If I fail?—”

A deafening roar from the dragon comes from deep within the tunnel, shaking the city’s very foundation. A frenzied rush of supernatural beings flee in a state of panic, desperately seeking refuge from the chaos.

“This way, Tamara,” Costin says.

“Go.” Anthony pushes away from the wall and disappears running in the opposite direction.

Costin places a hand on the small of my back to get me to run into the crowd as we navigate our way toward the troll’s cave, and our only hope is to stop this madness.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

My legs tremble, barely holding me upright as Costin and I stagger toward the mud-brick homes. Several have caved in on themselves. The destroyed furniture pokes up from the rubble in pieces.

I honestly don’t know how I’m still upright. Everything hurts. I feel like somebody punched me in the ribs. Just drawing breath causes a sharp, stabbing pain in my side that radiates through my body. My hands are bloody and raw. My clothing is singed, and I see blisters on my arm from the heat. My jeans are torn, and I’m bleeding from my thigh. It’s not enough to be an artery, but it’s enough to cause concern. I don’t even know how that happened.

I hope Anthony is safe. I don’t know if it was smart to leave my brother behind, but I can’t doubt myself now. I can only hope Anthonymakes it out of the underground city. If I fail to stop this, at least there’s hope he’ll reach our parents in time.

The drunken goblin is gone from the entrance, but broken remnants of his small jug remain. Chaos reigns as creatures abandon the city. I can still feel the tremors vibrating through the ground, but at least the air is cooler.

I pant, pain burning in my side. I stagger, almost falling, but Costin’s hand steadies me. Even he looks worse for wear, with singed clothes and streaks of soot marring his usually pristine appearance. Now that there is more light, I see a bloody rip in Costin’s sweater. An angry wound on his shoulder peeks at me from within. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal,” he dismisses, not letting me check. I can hear the strain beneath his calm. “A rock fell on me when I tried to transport your brother.”

From what I can see of the gash, it did more than fall on him. I notice that arm is hanging by his side, his hand barely moving.

“None of it will matter if we don’t fix the amulet.” He guides me into the entrance ahead of him.

My knees are weak, and I fall against the cold stone of the wall, using it for support as we make our way inside. My arm slides over the rock, my body aching with exhaustion. I want nothing more thanto collapse, but Draakmar won’t stop until he’s burned everything to the ground.

I glance at Costin. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the weight of everything we’ve been through together presses down on me. Paul, the labyrinth, the dragon—everything is crumbling, and now we’re pinned here with only an old prophecy and a broken amulet to save us. I feel like there is so much I need to tell him, but there isn’t time.

We enter Morvok’s home. The gemstones hanging from above jingle from the angry vibrations. The troll’s rock body blends with his surroundings and it takes me a moment to see him sitting in the middle of the floor.

Morvok pushes to his feet, the low, guttural sound of his breathing filling the cave. He looks us over before ambling over to the stone worktable where my broken amulet still waits.

“Costin and pet,” Morvok says. His voice is gravelly as he turns to face us. “Morvok did not expect you to return.”

Why does everyone always underestimate me?

I’m too weary to argue.

---