Page 196 of Lady of the Drowned Empire
Rhyan landed a punch against his captor, and the akadim roared, its red eyes full of violence. I saw then, it wore a silver collar—just like the akadim in the caves had.
“Now, now,” the mage said. “No harm, remember.” She wasn’t speaking to Rhyan, but the akadim. And it seemed to listen, bowing its head.
“Why can’t I move?” I asked, terror overwhelming me. I felt paralyzed, and for the first time ever, Rhyan was losing a fight.
“The binding,” she said. She spoke with a sweet voice that left chills running up and down my spine. “He knew it wouldn’t contain the shard. But it was a good distraction for the akadim. And a nice way to subdue you. My ropes held a simple muscle-relaxing spell, layered over the binds.”
I heard the sound of flesh hitting flesh and managed to turn my head enough to see Rhyan getting punched in the face.
“NO!” I yelled. “Don’t touch him. I’ll kill you if hurt him!”
“He was struggling too much,” the mage said, looking at him curiously. “Very strong, this one. But he’ll be subdued.”
“Let us go!” I could feel the akadim squeezing me, its claws digging into my flesh, bruising me, starting to draw blood.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be asleep any second. Time to leave.”
A gryphon flew nearby, soaring straight for Gryphon’s Mount. I could no longer move my arms or legs. The gryphon lifted back onto its hind legs, turning its body vertical as it came in for the landing, blowing gusts of ice and snow against me.
“Lyr,” Rhyan said, his voice faint. He was losing the fight.
I watched helplessly as the girl crawled onto the gryphon’s back. Rhyan’s akadim mounted the gryphon next.
I kicked, trying to pry my captor’s arm from around my waist, but I had no strength left.
I was carried onto the gryphon’s back. Its wings spread. There was no carriage, nothing to hold onto, as its wings fluttered in powerful thrusts. Fear gripped me like a vice, as we were plunged into icy cold air, soaring higher and higher into the night’s sky. Gryphon’s Mount was below us, moving farther and farther away. The seraphim’s moonstone vanishing into the snow, the six soturi stirring and standing.
My entire body began to shake with cold, with fear. I felt almost as cold as I had when I fell into the ice.
My stomach sank, the gryphon turning, flying faster and faster. The wind whipped violently through my air, and I could already feel the skin on my face turning red and raw with cold. I caught Rhyan’s eye.
“Lyr,” he said, his voice weak, the sound almost heart-breaking. “It was the scout,” he said. “This gryphon. I should have known.” His head fell forward, the spell finally taking down his body, his strength, but he kept his eyes on me, fighting to keep them open. Like he always did. Always fighting. Always protecting. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed.
I tried to say it wasn’t his fault, I tried to say it was okay, but my mouth wouldn’t move, and then my eyes closed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I fell in and out of consciousness. My eyes opened to wind blowing against my face, an endless dark sky, and the shuddering pain of the cold. Even asleep, my limbs had been shaking, absorbing little heat from the gryphon’s back, and even less from the akadim that held me captive. I found Rhyan’s eyes. He was awake, held by an akadim on the other end of the gryphon’s back.
I could tell he was trying to conserve his energy, to remain calm, keep his aura close. But he had a feral, almost crazed look to him. His eyes were on every place the akadim touched me. Noting every place its claw landed against my belly.
He didn’t have to be here now. He was strong enough to break free, or simply strong enough to travel, but I knew he’d never leave without me. Getting me free from the clutches of my captor wasn’t going to be an easy feat, and it was too risky to attempt while flying as quickly as we were through the night.
Plus, the mage was still watching, her stave out, her back unnaturally straight. She was so strange, unblinking, unmoving. Emotionless.
But she was also a problem. I could almost see the wheels turning in Rhyan’s mind—working out every possible escape scenario.
“No,” the mage said suddenly. She shook her head at Rhyan. “You’d fail.”
He glared.
“Not enough time,” she said, reading his mind, trashing his escape plans. “I wouldn’t worry. She holds a piece of the Valalumir. She will be protected.”
Why all this trouble? Why not just take the Valalumir from me? Why take us, too?
She shifted her gaze to me. “He has his reasons.”
You couldn’t take it from me, could you? I thought. The Imperator and Brockton had both captured me, and both left me with my weapons. Both times because they assumed I couldn’t use them, couldn’t reach them effectively. They underestimated me. Not realizing I wore a vadati, that I was one word away from the greatest weapon in the Empire. Rhyan.
