Page 63 of The Dragonrider and the Void
“Tell him that Lark’s been captured. Tell him the ritual requires both types of magic, working in unison.” Venrick reached for his sword, drawing it with effort. “And tell him, I’ll find another way out.”
The lie soured his emotion, but he forced his expression to display confidence.He doesn’t need to know that I won’t make it.
With his free hand, Venrick reached for the Yogo Sapphire in the sword pommel. It was nearly depleted, but there might be just enough power left for what he needed.
“I’m going to cast a small spell,” he explained to Edgar, who watched wide-eyed. “It will mask your presence from the guards, but only for a short time. You need to move quickly once I’ve done it.”
Venrick closed his eyes, focusing on the last reserves of the Yogo’s power. His training gave him just enough aptitude to shape a simple concealment charm. Not true invisibility as someone better versed in magic could, but a subtle suggestion to any observers that the boy was merely a shadow, a trick of the light, nothing worth noticing.
The Sapphire dimmed as its final energy flowed out, forming a shimmering veil around Edgar. The spell would last maybe fifteen minutes. He hoped it was enough time for the boy to reach the eastern entrance if he moved without delay.
“There,” Venrick breathed, exhausted by even this small working. “Now go. Stay close to the walls, move quietly, and don’t stop for anything.”
Edgar stood, wincing as he put weight on his injured ankle. “What about you?”
Venrick gathered the remaining metal pages, securing them inside his coat. “I’ll be right behind you,” he lied again. “Just taking a different route to confuse the guards.”
The boy looked unconvinced, but the approaching sound of marching guards was growing louder. “Thank you,” he said simply. “For helping me.”
“Go,” Venrick urged, rising painfully to his feet. “And Edgar? When this is over, find your mother and get as far from Astral City as you can. Head southwest, find a small town in rural Lamar. Things may get dangerous around here in the coming days.”
With a final nod, Edgar disappeared down one of the tunnels with surprising speed despite his injuries.
Venrick waited until the boy was out of sight, then turned toward the sound of pursuit. Waiting in the darkness, he braced for the whispering voice that had been following him. As he gripped his now-powerless sword, Venrick felt an unexpectedclarity. The spell’s whispers had gone silent. The visions of surrender didn’t come.
Did helping Edgar stave off some of the spell’s effects?he wondered.
“The corruption seeks division,” he murmured. “Unity is its bane.”
With deliberate steps, Venrick moved away from Edgar’s escape route, heading deeper into the labyrinth of tunnels.
16
DELIVERANCE
Venrick stumbled deeper into the tunnels, deliberately making enough noise to draw pursuit away from Edgar’s escape route. The corruption had spread to his chest now, each pulse sending black tendrils creeping across his torso, starting to work their way up his neck toward his face. His breaths came in ragged rasps, each one more painful than the last.
“Over here!” he called out, his voice echoing through the ancient passages. “Come and get me!”
The response was immediate. Heavy footfalls quickened, voices shouted commands. Venrick smiled grimly. At least this part of his plan was working.
He rounded a corner and found himself in a section of tunnels older than the rest. The stones here were fitted without mortar, bearing the distinctive craftsmanship of the original sanctuary builders. Faint carvings flickered in the dim light.
Venrick pressed his hand against the wall to steady himself as another wave of pain washed over him. The remaining metal pages were growing heavier, a burden he could barely carry.
His thoughts strayed to Lark.Was she taken elsewhere by the King, or the Void Drinker?The uncertainty of her fate cut deeper than the spell’s corruption. He had abandoned her, necessary though it was, and now he might never see her again.
No.He pushed the thought away. Division was what the spell wanted, what the corruption fed on. He had to believe there was a way forward, for both of them.
The tunnel ahead split into three branches. Venrick hesitated, unsure which path to take. He heard the clatter of his pursuers’ armor, the low murmur of their voices as they coordinated their search.
Instinctively, he reached for the elven half of his senses. They had never been one hundred percent reliable, but they were keen. Tel Roan had always encouraged Venrick to trust them.
A subtle awareness bloomed at the edge of his consciousness. The right-hand passage felt wrong, as if the air there rejected him. The central path was neutral, but the left. The left passage called to him with a familiarity he couldn’t explain.
Venrick took the left path without further hesitation. The tunnel narrowed immediately, forcing him to hunch his shoulders as he moved forward. Then it made a sharp turn, and Venrick nearly collided with a solid wall. It was a dead end.
“No,” he whispered, pressing his hands against the stone as if he could force it to yield through sheer desperation.
