Page 82 of Shadow and Smite

Step by step, we slew. Ayla cleared a path for Ninti while I watched for blind spots, protecting when they weren’t prepared. Ayla grew confident, her attacks increasingly aggressive, and she stormed ahead.

Soon, ash filled the air, vanishing as fast as we could replenish it. Always, there was more.

With a final surge, Ninti raced for the doorway, bursting into flame as she barged forward. Countless Shades vanished, and for a moment the doorway was clear.

Ninti growled, assuming a defensive post at the threshold. Meanwhile, Ayla and I cleared the corners. Destroying a few more Shades, we took control of the throne room.

Ayla’s shoulders heaved as she surrendered to a moment of breathy recovery. Sweat beaded on her neck, glinting in Ninti’s firelight.

“You’re amazing,” I said.

She swallowed, her throat bobbing—I caught the fear in her eyes. She saw my fear too. Compared to our threat, this victory felt thin.

“I try,” she replied.

Despite our odds, confidence surged through me—courage born of desperation. If this was my final fight, then I would go out ablaze.

She smirked. Even in Gloom, her brilliant mind was already one step ahead.

“You have a plan,” I realized.

“Yes. And you’re not going to like it. I need you to go to the Underworld.”

My stomach pitched. She was right—I didn’t like it. “I would rather protect you.”

“We secured the door. Ninti and I can manage. But you…”

“I can try to take control of the Shades,” I agreed.

She nodded. Ninti and Ayla were better equipped for this type of fighting. We had improved our position, and now my talents were better spent elsewhere.

Only, to claim power in the Underworld, I would have to relinquish my control here. My body would be left behind, unable to protect anyone.

Yet I had to face Inarus in the Underworld. It was the best tactical decision.

My heart throbbed. Now that Ayla was back, I never wanted to let her go. I pressed my hand to my aching heart.

“Trust me,” Ayla insisted.

“I trust you,” I agreed.

Her lips parted, breath catching. Our eyes locked. Would we ever have our chance to dance?

“Ay-la!” Ninti cried, her voice echoing.

“Coming,” Ayla called.

She took a step toward Ninti, but with a turn on her toe, she lunged for me instead. She caught me by surprise—she kissed me. A desperate peck to my lips.

Flushed, she raced to Ninti’s side. Ayla took up her arms and entered the fray.

I pressed my lips together, wishing the kiss would linger. If only we had longer—

We still had the time we could fight for. We had whatever opportunity remained. To give Eleanor the chance to rise, my duty was to descend.

36 | The Deliberate Delay of Death

Zayne

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