Page 215 of Golden Queen
I snorted with laughter at the look on his face. He was being ridiculously flirtatious. Likely for Io's benefit, hoping to work him up into a lather.
"That's her," Io said breezily, still standing behind me. I thought he was enjoying letting me handle the situation without his interference.
I shoved my hand out into Atlas' gorgeous face. "Aelia of Windemere," I said.
His hand nearly swallowed mine as he shook it. "Atlas, formerly of the Grove, lately of Morgus Grund."
"Well-met Master Smith, now can you get these cursed things off me?"
"It won't take but a moment, sweetling," Atlas purred, turning to the anvil he had been working at. He lifted what looked like a hammer sharpened to a point. I recognized the dull sheen of mellitrium as he stepped closer.
"Shield your maiden, big man," Atlas said as he raised the hammer-axe over his head.
My eyes went wide as Io slid quickly into place behind me, grasping my arms. The shield went up the instant before Atlas' voice filled the chamber.
Magic crackled in the air as fire licked up the handle. It was a solid white stream with a bright, vivid core that looked more like lightning than flames.
And then down came the mellitrium hammer. I closed my eyes as the deafening roar of Atlas echoed through the forge.
The hammer struck the metal with another loudtwang.I opened my eyes just in time to see the lightning-fire arc out, striking the cuffs.
Atlas's triumphant face filled my vision as he took the trajectory of the hammer's rebound and absorbed it with his massive arms. He was cocky and smiling as he flipped the hammer up into the air, catching it neatly.
His face fell, though, as he saw what I had been looking at all along. The solid, unmarred surface of the cuffs.
"What devilry is this?" He dropped the hammer and held my wrists in one of his hands. Leaning over, he rested his forehead against the cuffs, and I heard muttered whispers as though he was working a spell.
When he was done, he looked up at me, eyes full of sorrow and regret. "This is not bound with the necromancer's life. It is bound with yours, Aelia of Windemere."
"What the fuck does that mean?" I demanded.
"It means that when the spell was crafted..."
"I don't give a shit when it was crafted, how do you un-craft it?" I was panicking, nearly to the point of screaming.
Atlas shook his head regretfully.
I pushed up from the anvil, my breaths coming in short, choking pants. My movements felt jerky and uncoordinated as I tried to find the door. It was never the one I thought it was. I was somehow always getting turned around in the forge, so I turned to find the other door.
"I'm sorry, Aelia of Windemere. Nothing short of the hand of the Dagda himself could bring those cuffs off you while you live."
Atlas' deep rumbling voice chased me down the corridor.
I realized I picked the right door as I rushed through the Citadel. I ignored the startled faces of everyone as I ran past corridors and rooms. I wanted out. I felt the weight of the entire mountain pressing down on me., and nothing could have stopped my headlong sprint through the ancient academy.
"Sera, wait!"
I halted. Nothing short ofhimcould stop me.
I met him halfway down the hall.
"Come with me," he said quietly, catching my arm and turning me back in the direction we had come.
"Io, I don't want to go back there and let them try and try and fail."
"We aren't. I know how to get them off but be quiet and try not to draw too much attention."
"How?"
