Page 91 of An Archer's Redemption

Kelså stood and downed the last of the wine in her glass. “We should get some sleep and start fresh in the morning. My mind cannot take any more tonight.”

The next day, we sat eating a hearty breakfast and chatting about recent events on the continent. Kelså soaked in every bit of news about Keelan and the goings-on in her homeland. As Atikus reached across to fill his plate for the third time, a voice, clear and commanding, boomed throughout the mountain. It sounded—no,felt—like the mountain itself was speaking.

Órla’s voice was an eruption of urgency. “KELSÅ! Someone has made it past the hut, past the wards. Hatred and anger burn in her wake. She is almost at the Well!”

“What in the void—” I started but cut off as my tunic flared to life, the Phoenix practically leaping from my chest.

Kelså shot to her feet. “Declan, come with me. If someone is powerful enough to pass the wards, I may need your strength to protect the Well.”

I shot to my feet as well. Atikus moved to follow, but Kelså stilled him with a glare. “Atikus, stay here. If we get into trouble, you are the only one left who can go for help.”

I charged after my mother through the winding corridors of the mountain. The crystals embedded in the walls, normally glowing with gentle light, now pulsed brightly, as if angered by the intruder.

As I skidded to a stop in the entrance to the Well’s chamber, I was shocked to see its crystalline walls and ceiling pulsing even more brightly than the hallways had. The lazy river beneath its glassy surface roiled and raged, white caps pluming atop cerulean waves. It felt as though the currents begged for escape, for the opportunity to join the fight to come.

Kelså ran toward the platform containing the Well’s opening and panted as she stood a few paces from the billowing mist that gushed forth.

I stood beside her a few heartbeats later.

The hairs on my arms and neck snapped to attention, and my skin pimpled at magic’s touch.

My tunic’s glow became insistent, almost painful to look upon.

Then the intruder entered the chamber.

“Larinda?” Kelså asked, dumbfounded. “How did you get in here?”

The old woman strode forward without a hint of the ailing joints I knew plagued her. She held her chin high and stared through bright, keen eyes.

But it was her smile I noticed above all else.

“It’s not Larinda,” I whispered.

Larinda waved a hand in the air while continuing her trek forward. “Listen to the boy, Kelså; he is brighter than he appears.” She cackled at her own jest.

Kelså called to her Light, and the mist surrounding the Well poured into her mouth and nose. Her skin began to glow, and her eyes blazed with the light of the sun. With a wave of one hand, she erected a shell of swirling air around the Well.

I gaped, having never seen the strength of my mother’s magic.

Larinda cackled again, more amused than concerned by the Keeper’s display of power. She raised a finger and shattered Kelså’s shield without so much as a grimace. Sparks of spent magical energy exploded throughout the room, forcing Kelså and me to throw up shields of air to protect from the blast.

When we lowered our arms, the woman who was no longer Larinda stood only a few paces away, raging fire blazing in each palm.

“Boy, I was using magic long before you were born. Do not waste my time. I have waited many lifetimes todealwith your mother.”

Without further warning, Larinda flung both palms forward, and fire flew forth, one blaze aimed at each of us. I threw out my arms and pulled moisture from the air. Discs of water the size of my head appeared before my outstretched hands, flew forward, and doused the balls of flame.

Kelså threw her head back and cried out, “Eveth erna fertu!”

A dozen glowing crystals broke free from the wall and hurtled toward Larinda.

The ancient woman ducked and threw up a bony hand. A shock wave of air and energy pulsed from her raised fist, blasting Kelså’s missiles away to shatter against the walls of the cavern.

Again, Kelså didn’t hesitate.

With Larinda distracted by deflecting the crystals, she drew more mist into her chest and formed balls of pure azure magicin each palm, similar to the fire Larinda had thrown before. She hurled one ball, arcing it high in the air toward Larinda, while sending the second in a blazing streak toward the woman’s chest.

Larinda managed a quick shield, absorbing the missile headed for her torso, but the second attack struck a half pace from where she stood. The soundless eruption lit the cavern with a kaleidoscope of brilliance, forcing me to shield my eyes with my arm. Sparks of shimmering magic flew in every direction.

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