Page 77 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
Caer moved, but he could still feel the gaze of the undead mortal on his back, in a way he couldn’t explain. It was like his eyes weren’t his any more. His entire body stiffened, lead-like, heavy.
He sank to his knees.
Crusher pressed his face to his, but he couldn’t feel it. Aislinn screamed his name, but the sound came out like a distinct echo.
Something was pulling him down.
Caer let it.
Aislinndidn’tstopscreaminguntil Bell and Diana reached Caer’s side and hauled him onto Crusher’s back.
“Get to the front!” Minerva bellowed. “Help your brother!”
Something swooped behind her. Aislinn turned, meeting a half-dead creature, sword slack at his side. He opened his mouth, but she kicked him in the stomach, sending him sprawling back in the snow.
She didn’t finish him, didn’t stop to think why he hadn’t used his sword—she just ran.
Beau stood in a tunnel of ice, still burrowing. Aislinn grabbed his arm, strengthening his power, letting him borrow from her, andpushedwith him.
Come on, come on, come on!
They shredded through the stone until they hit something hard—hard, and rock, and iron.
A door.
Minerva barrelled ahead of them, fingers moving over etchings, pressing a series of pebbles until the door swung inwards. “Get in, get in!”
They raced into the tunnel, wargis yapping, snow sliding inwards in a small tsunami. Magna and Diana dived through the door, but it wouldn’t shut, the hinges frozen, the force of the snow too great.
Beau sprang backwards, leaning into the air and yanking down a carpet of snow to conceal the entrance.
Finally, everything fell silent.
As soon as she’d gathered enough breath, Aislinn sprinted to Caer’s side. “Is he all right?Is he all right?”
“Aye, he’s fine, lass,” Flora said, checking him over. “Just exhausted too much of his power. You should have seen the condition he was in when he came to us. Half dead on his horse, he was.”
Aislinn paused, before her legs wobbled and almost gave out from underneath her.
“Steady, steady on,” said Bell, as Luna appeared at her other elbow. “Let’s get you onto a wargi.”
“We can’t rest yet,” Minerva insisted. “I know we need it—but we need to put some distance between us and the soldiers.”
“You think they’ll get through all that snow?” Beau asked, panting against the wall.
“I think I’m not risking it. Get yourself onto a mount, lad. You look like you’re about to faint too.”
“I’m all right.”
“You won’t be, if you don’t take the rest you can get. Come on, now. You’ll be harder to lift if you pass out.”
Beau sighed and relented, and the party set off into the tunnels. They were strangely lit, with veins of red-gold crystal running through the rock. Every so often, they widened, occasionally diverging. Once or twice, they stumbled upon ancient markings, drawings on the walls of long-ago battles, golems of the deep, dwarven tales of courage and, at one point, a mortal knight on horseback with flaming hair.
“What happened to Caer’s horse?” Aislinn asked. “The one he fled on?”
Silence echoed around the tunnels.
“He killed it,” Minerva said. “Accidentally, of course. Figured animals were immune to his touch. The beast startled during a storm. Caer tried to calm it, and… well. He’s been careful, since.”
