Page 26 of Prisoner of Darkness and Dreams
“Lafia,” I call. “Lafia, it’s okay, don’t be afraid.”
Brown hands creep cautiously out from beneath the door, followed by arms and a head of long black hair.
“Here, I’ve got you,” Phaia says, bending down to take the girl’s hands, helping to pull her through the gap.
Lafia gets unsteadily to her feet, and we lay eyes on each other for the first time. She looks devastatingly young even for seventeen, her big brown eyes taking up most of a pretty face marred with healing cuts and fading bruises, courtesy of the “questioning” the Temple gave her.
“Quickly, Alastor,” Leon says.
Magic fizzes in the air, and Lafia’s face twists with confusion.
“Are you a spy for the Temple? Do you intend to harm any of us?” Alastor asks the questions rapid fire.
“No. And no,” Lafia replies, blinking under the effects of his sensic power.
The magic fades quickly as Leon nods, satisfied. “You can come with us.”
“Thank you,” she breathes, and there’s a catch in her voice as she says it. She’s shaking, and I reach out to squeeze her hand, relieved beyond measure that I’ve been right to put my trust in her all this time.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Leon tells her. “And seeing as I doubt either you or Ana are in any condition to run, please let one of my soldiers carry you.”
Lafia just nods, too dazed to really take any of this in, and allows Hyllus to bend down and pull her onto his back. His head jerks up just as she locks her arms around his neck, and he spins around to look at the end of the corridor. He’s heard something.
“They’re coming, now. They must’ve hidden it with?—”
A flash of fire comes down the corridor so fast that for a second I’m blinded. The fae’s fast reflexes ensure we’re all pulled down to the ground in time for it to fly over our heads, but I feel the heat of it on my skin as it passes terrifyingly close.
“Stratton—” Leon starts to shout an instruction, but the blond fae is ahead of him.
“On it, captain.” Stratton sprints down the corridor, staying low as he pulls a small metal orb from a pouch on his belt. I’ve not seen Stratton use his terrial power in a fight before—I was too distracted at Otscold to take it in—but I know the theory behind it.
The others follow him as Leon swings me into his arms.
“You won’t be able to fight like this,” I protest.
“If you think I’m letting go of you again, you’re crazy,” he grunts.
He sprints after his soldiers, and we catch up to them in time for me to see Stratton throw the orb up the steps.
There’s a second’s pause before an explosion reverberates down the corridor toward us, followed by a series of screams and a cloud of steam. Stratton is an aquari, and he can boil water on command. In this case, he heats the liquid in the thin metal orbs until they explode, raining searing water down on anyone in the vicinity.
“It’s clear,” Hyllus confirms, and we proceed up the steps, climbing to the next level of my prison.
I can’t see ahead now, my vision limited by the fae crowding into a narrow corridor. There are more flashes of magic and explosions, and more screams. Hyllus shouts, and I strain to see what’s happened.
“Phaia’s down,” Leon say. “Caught by an incendi.”
Stratton and Damia push ahead, leaving it clear enough that I can see where Phaia’s lying, her silver hair streaming across the floor. Hyllus stands over her, conferring with Alastor as he swings Lafia down and she clambers onto Alastor’s back instead. Though Phaia is tall, Hyllus is big enough to easily pick her up. Half her tunic is burned away, her back covered in blackened skin.
“Watch your front!” Leon bellows to them. I follow his instructions to see a cleaver has made it past Damia and Stratton and is charging down the corridor toward the others.
Tira pushes in front of Hyllus and Alastor, going down on one knee and drawing the bow in her hand. I watch in awe as she releases an arrow that flies straight toward the heart of the cleaver. He raises his hand, clearly intending to block it with some terrial magic.
That’s when the arrow explodes.
A hundred wooden spikes embed themselves into the cleaver, hitting him with such momentum that they rip and tear at his flesh. I’ve seen Tira’s power in action before, but never with something likethis.
And I can only watch on, useless, as my friends fight for our lives. Thanks to the dimane I’ve ingested, I have neither the magic nor the strength to defend myself, and have to simply cling to Leon as we follow the others up another flight of stairs.
