Page 272 of The Cradle of Ice
* * *
DAAL CRINGED AS a new storm erupted inside the dome. It came from the enemy barge above. Lightning cascaded through the dome’s door, dazzling with its malignancy. It chained and laddered across the crystal walls. It sparked with furious emerald flashes. It balled into malevolent shimmering fogs that shot wildly.
Still, Daal could read the pattern.
“It’s searching,” he whispered.
A scatter of bolts spun and danced over the sphere, then chased down the hole.
Where the beast had vanished.
Graylin stood next to him, Jace on his other side.
“Searching for what?” Jace asked. “For Nyx?”
Daal shook his head. “I think for the winged monster.”
As if called forth by his words, a huge shadow burst from beyond the orb. Black wings tipped and swept a wide arc through the dome. Drawn by its passage through the air, fire and lightning lashed out at the bat, striking from every direction. The fires became so fierce that the beast was lost in those flames.
Then it burst free again, trailing fire.
Daal squinted, expecting that energy to be focused on the bat’s steel helm, forming a fiery crown. While a few sparks still danced there, most of the bolts glanced off the helm and hit the figure clinging on its back, ducked close. It was as if the rider were drawing that inimical energy, bearing the brunt of the assault.
In all the dazzle and distance, Daal could not discern who rode that monster, but he knew who it was. The slight golden glow about her shoulders left no doubt.
Terror and worry flared through him.
No one could withstand such an attack.
Not even Nyx.
* * *
RIDING ON A column of fire, Nyx clawed her fingers into Bashaliia’s fur. She twisted both wrists, wrapping harder. She clung with her knees as best she could. Her broken shin shot lances of pain into her hip, but she burned away the worst of the pain.
As she shot across the dome, emerald energies filled the air, swelled her lungs, and traveled over her skin. The dark abyss inside her howled at that power. She denied it, refusing its demand, intending to hold out for as long as possible.
Instead, she focused on the two golden reins of bridle-song, shimmering cords that ran from her shoulders to the steel helm. She tied the ends to the copper needles, securing them there.
With each strike to that steel, she siphoned fire away from Bashaliia. While she could not keep all that dread energy from him, hopefully it was enough. Ducked low into his warmth, merged into his glow, she willed him confidence and infused into him the memory of ancient raash’ke riders to help him carry her, but mostly she just kept him protected.
All the while, a scream built silently inside her.
It, too, was a song.
She built that new melody, a darker, scathing ballad of madness and power. She fed it that emerald fire, to keep it from the dark abyss, to keep her sanity.
She rode up that fiery green tide, higher and higher, the scream of madness building with every beat of Bashaliia’s wings. They reached the top and shot out of the dome’s door. Bashaliia banked away from the keel of the barge and swung wide. They left the warm chimney of air and sped out into the frigid, endless night.
The air was ice, each breath a labor, but she burned with inner fire. She rode out until frost and ice coated her and the emerald flames could no longer reach her. Only then did she swing around. High above the barge, she hung with Bashaliia in the air, free and raging with power.
The barge faced them, its windows glinting. Its forges burned in the darkness but drew no closer.
Nyx gathered that scream of madness, scintillating with emerald fire. She used the cold and ice to help her temper those flames. But it was like taming a wildfire. She felt those corrupting flames burning her edges, eating into her.
Bashaliia was also not unscathed or untouched. Bonded with her brother, she felt a savagery that was never a part of him. He shivered with rage under her.
She knew she could not hold this scream in any longer or she would risk them both. She tightened her knees and shifted her weight forward. Bashaliia responded and tipped into a steep dive. She let him fly, not guiding any longer, only riding.
