Page 110 of A Tale of Ice and Ash
A bench flew through the air and exploded into the wall overhead. Cole dived out of its path, rolling away from Eirwen and Onyx. Darted behind a pillar, a table slamming into it. Eirwen screamed.
A giant hand lunged for him, but before he could draw his sword, there was a flash of silver. Eirwen stood between them, hacking away at the massive limb.
The monster barely seemed to acknowledge her. It raised its second fist and smashed at Cole. He leapt out of the way just in time.
“Eirwen!”
She slid under the arm, cutting in huge circles, each swipe to no avail.
Onyx struck the back of the creature with his axe, pinning it to the ground. The black mass tore as it struggled against the weight.
“Come!” Onyx bellowed.
Eirwen snatched Cole’s hand and dragged him to his feet, shoving him ahead of her as Onyx held open a rocky panel in the side of the room. Cole skidded inside, pulling Eirwen after him with such force that they wound up on top of each other as the door slammed shut.
The force of the monster slamming against the stone shuddered through the mountain. The ceiling cracked, showering them with rock. Cole covered Eirwen, sheltering her from debris, her arms wrapped around his head.
“You all right?” they both said at the same time, their faces inches apart.
Onyx coughed. “We need to move.”
“What… what wasthat?” Cole hissed.
“Jasper,” Onyx said, “or the thing that killed him. I’ve never been sure. And come on, he can still break that down. He can’t get into the tunnel, but–”
Rock splintered from the ceiling.
“Right, of course,” said Cole, dropping his hands away from Eirwen and straightening up. “After you.”
They followed Onyx down the winding passage, Cole bent over, his head scraping along the roof of the tunnel. It was dark, lit only by a few tiny crystals in the walls. Cole wanted to take Eirwen’s hand, but he was afraid of Onyx’s reaction, and hers. She was unlikely to embarrass him by jerking away from his touch, but that didn’t mean she would enjoy it.
He wished she’d reach for him instead.
Gods, what a fool I’m becoming,he thought. A silly school boy. A child at play. But then, he had no memory of something like this. He had never wanted to take a girl’s hand before. That’s not to say he hadn’t enjoyed it when he had, but this strange yearning was utterly new to him.
They fumbled onwards, deeper into the dark, eventually emerging in the corridor of what must still have been the palace. Old bedrooms and great washrooms lined the hallway. Onyx hesitated outside one for a fraction of a second. Did it used to be his? Or someone else he knew?
They slipped down a set of steps, down another passageway or three, and wound up somewhere near the kitchens.
Something scuttled in the distance, overturning a pot with a loud clang.
Onyx stalled, holding his hand up to the two of them. They drew their swords, hugging the walls, creeping forward at the pace of a snail.
There was a low hiss. A whisper? Did shades whisper?
Onyx turned, his axe raised. A bolt soared over his shoulder.
“Dammit, Onyx!” bellowed a voice, “I nearly shot you!”
Merry barrelled forward and almost knocked his brother over with the force of his embrace.
“There’s no need for that!” said the old dwarf, although his voice was softer than his words. He patted Merry’s back.
Wren yanked Eirwen into her arms. “Almost worried us, there.”
“I’m all right,” Eirwen assured her.
“Good. You, boy?”
