Page 135 of Skalterra By Nightmare
“Don’t make the same mistake I made in Vanderfall. Kill the Grimguards. And don’t you die too.”
He took off in a sprint, and Fana gave me a final panicked glance.
Ciarán bucked, and I pressed harder into his face. Cracks radiated out from under his body, and I realized we were on ice. Ciarán’s chest, which I had tried so hard to heal a few short weeks ago, heaved with labored breaths beneath me.
“What are you waiting for, Nightmare?” Galahad’s voice, haggard and hoarse, carried on the wind. “Kill the Grimguard!”
Orange eyes widened between my fingers. Ciarán stopped struggling, but he shook his head against my hand.
He’d had Fana in his clutches. He’d been so close to taking her.
And he’d continue to try until either he or she were dead.
A single blade of bone pushed through the meat of my arm, and I held it over Ciarán. He choked on my name, his voice muffled through his cowl and my hand.
“Do it, Nightmare!” Galahad bellowed.
Ciarán shook his head again, and I hesitated.
If I killed him, he would become someone’s Riley.
He wanted to hurt my friends. He’d killed me. He’d almost ruined my interview with Von Leer.
And I couldn’t bring myself to murder him. Not when he looked so young. Not when there might be someone out there hoping he came home safe.
Pain lanced my side, and I cried out as blinding orange light forced me sideways off of Ciarán. Electricity and heat spasmed through my body. I curled in on the gaping wound in my abdomen, my face pressed against ice and snow.
I choked on my breaths as a figure sprinted towards me over the ice.
“Orla?” I croaked, still trying to stem the blood and ash that spilled from my stomach.
The woman raised her arm towards me, aiming a crossbow that was built into her arm bracers.
A glowing arrow formed in her other hand, and she pulled it against a buzzing bowstring of neon Skal.
“Go to hell, Nightmare!” She loosed the arrow.
I had half a second to pull Skal from Galahad to harden my armor and seal the wound in my abdomen. The arrow glanced off my kevlar, but the force of the hit knocked the wind from me a second time.
“Aim for the old man!” Ciarán shouted from where he tried to catch his breath on the ice.
The woman Grimguard formed a new arrow, and I struggled to my feet too late. She leveled her bow arm at Galahad.
“No!” My scream caught on the wind and did little to stop the arrow of Skal hissing through the air.
Orange sparks burst as the arrow collided with Iseult’s outstretched hand where she stood over Galahad’s injured form. The woman Grimguard slid to a halt.
Her next arrow extended into a pike, and she jammed its pointed end into the ice. Orange light shot through the cracks that spread beneath her, and the lake groaned.
I scrambled on all fours towards Iseult where she tried to drag Galahad away from the breaking ice. A red stain smeared across the snow behind him.
“Grandfather, please!” Iseult begged. “We have to move!”
I helped her pull Galahad to his feet, but his toes dragged in the snow between us.
“Leave me.” His breaths were ragged. “You have to stop the—”
“Watch out!”
