Page 241 of A Dagger of Ice and Intrigue
Chapter
Fifty-Six
ALLIE
As soon as I helped Nadya sit down and promise she would not move until we came after her, under penalty of telling on her to Mrs. Thornbrew, I bolted back toward the passage.
My steps lit up the maze.
I felt weightless, soaring, carried by the wind of the crater.
As I burst into the main passage, the light followed, spidering up the walls.
Ryker whirled in a cloud of ash, daggers slicing through cloaks and claiming more masks. He stopped, gaze slashing toward me.
A slow smile spread over his face.
“My Huntress.” He bowed his head.
Not taking his eyes off me, he impaled his dagger in a figure who dropped right to his side.
The light bloomed around me, coating me in a blue haze.
The other warriors, those still left standing, looked my way, the battle rage in their eyes softening.
“The gods were truly listening.” Vylkor pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, like we did in the ritual, above the big gash starting from his eyebrow and down his cheek. I hoped his eye had survived.
The light burned through the passage in waves, my magic still controlled by the light’s pulses. But each one of them took another breath from my lungs, another beat from my heart.
I didn’t know how long I could keep the light alive, but I’d do it until my last breath.
At least half of the warriors were down, moaning in the ash. The air was filled with the metal-acid scent of blood.
As the light reached the ceiling, the masked figures hissed and shrank from the glow.
My throat went dry.
There were so many of them, an endless sea.
But one we could now see.
Ryker and I exchanged a grin.
He wiped his daggers on his armor while I cocked another arrow.
“Warriors of Solkar,” he cried out, raising his arm. “Let’s drive these beasts away from our realm.”
The warriors roared as we surged forward.
The figures still fell down upon us, as if compelled by a power greater than their survival instincts, but they were no match for our group.
Ryker took the lead, once again a blur. I could only track his movements by the cloud of dust he left in his wake. The ones who lingered between the ceiling stones got an arrow in the chest for their hesitation.
The glow guided us further, no longer swallowing our groans and cries. Listening. Seeing.
The air was no longer reeked of dread.
It vibrated with triumph.
