Page 234 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
Ryker and his warriors cleaved through them as they cascaded down on top of us.
My arrows thinned their first flanks with cold precision.
I plucked the string so fast, the calloused skin on the tip of my fingers began to split and bleed.
But we were at a clear disadvantage.
I was the only one with a long range weapon.
Ryker’s warriors were experts with swords, axes, and daggers, but they couldn't throw their steel at the ceiling.
When the attackers fell down, their weapons were merciless and swift–but it was a reactive fight, at the whim of our enemy.
Those rarely went well.
My quiver was already feather-light, and there was no chance of reclaiming my arrows from the choking ash.
My well of power stirred as I called upon it.
In a battle, unsteady magic was dangerous.
But I was desperate.
The tendrils pulsed in my veins, eager and ready to burst, but they didn’t coil around my arms, no matter how hard I tried. I tensed my muscles to the point of pain, but even if I had ripped them from my bones, my powers still wouldn’t have seeped out.
No.
Not again.
Please.
The fear and helplessness from the maze burned up my throat.
My powers couldn’t abandon me again.
But they hadn’t, had they?
They were in me, blazing, eager to help.
This isn’t the wedding massacre.
No. My powers were here, my constant companion.
Something was dampening them.
This forsaken place.
It refused my magic, as if it was a sacrilege.
If the crater had evolved to refuse all other powers, I had no chance.
A good tactic on any other day, to keep the enemies out.
Today, it could be deadly.
A figure lunged right behind me as I cocked another arrow. I gripped it in my shaking fist and whirled around, impaling it straight in his neck. For a terrifying moment, I saw scared human eyes from behind the mask’s slits.
But then he burst into dust, leaving behind only an acrid, foul stench. Its rotten flesh grit coated my face, searing into my lungs and mouth. I spat it out, heart galloping against my ribs.
