by Berthal, the iris’s gravity helping them along. Plumes of dirt and grass spiraled around the gate’s lip like water being drained through a hole. The undead fought the pull as well, though many slipped and fell up through it.
The circle was almost beneath their feet. Ladonna quickly looked around to see if there was anyone left to save, but she couldn’t see another soul through the biting dirt storm. She prayed Par-Salian had been selfish enough to save himself.
Tythonnia struggled to get away, to run for the portal and pursue Berthal into the beyond, but Ladonna and Mariyah tackled her again when she broke from their grips. They overshot the circle by inches and a few inches more as the gate dragged them toward its greedy mouth. Mariyah screamed. One of the undead gripped her foot, but she kicked the monster hard enough that it stumbled back and up, through the aperture.
Mariyah grabbed Ladonna’s legs as the gate dragged her up; even then, Ladonna could feel her grip around Tythonnia’s waist and Mariyah’s grip on her leg slipping. At the last second, Tythonnia realized what was happening and reached down to grab Mariyah’s wrist before she, too, fell away. With the last of her strength, Ladonna stretched for the circle even as the gate tried to suck her from it.
Her ribs protested the torture, but her finger grazed the lip of Berthal’s circle. The teleportation ring exploded in a burst of light, and all three women vanished.
Par-Salian wedged the boy into a rock outcropping, trying to shield his body. The pull of the gate was tremendous, with bodies slamming into the rocks and ground with enough force to crack bone. In a moment, he’d be sucked away and the boy would be crushed against the rocks by the growing force trying to drag them into hell.
The winds whipped and howled around them, and Par-Salian struggled to look over the rocks at the ritual circle. Was anyone still alive?
He spotted Ladonna, struggling on the ground with Tythonnia and Mariyah. They were seconds away from being sucked through the iris. Mariyah kicked away a blight shade. Ladonna lunged for something on the ground, and a burst of light nearly blinded him. When he could see again, they were gone.
Panic filled his stomach and lungs. Where’d she go? Was she safe?
Anywhere is better than here, he thought.
The boy cried out in pain. The weight exerted against them had flattened the boy out on the stone. He was pressed against it.
“Can’t-breathe,” he gasped.
Par-Salian felt the pressure too. If he didn’t act, they’d both be dead. But he couldn’t leave while Ladonna was still here.
Wherever you are, be safe, he prayed. The pull increased and he nearly tumbled out over the rocks. The boy could no longer cry; the air was being crushed from him.
They both vanished.
CHAPTER 17
The circle beneath their feet glowed a moment before sputtering out like a spent candle; a faint discoloration remained in the red carpet. They lay inside a parlor with richly paneled oak walls, luxuriant tapestries, and a fireplace. Tythonnia pulled free of Mariyah and Ladonna as she stood, her hand scrambling through the empty air, trying to save a man who was no longer there.
“No!” she screamed and spun around, trying to gain her bearings. “Where are we? Where are we?”
Through the transom window, Ladonna could see the hub of Palanthas and the Bay of Branchala. They were somewhere in Purple Ridge, overlooking the city. Likely, it was the safest place Berthal could envision before casting his spell.
“Palanthas,” Ladonna answered softly.
“We have to go back!”
Mariyah wept softly. She understood the situation; she knew there was nothing they could do. She crumpled into one of the chairs.
“We can’t,” Ladonna said. “It’s already too late. The portal-”
“No,” Tythonnia said, pacing around the room, ready to hurl herself at the walls at any moment. “No no no, you’re wrong.”
“I’m not,” Ladonna said gently. “It was a trap.”
“By who?” Tythonnia demanded. “What was that book?”
“It was put there by the Black Robes,” she said. “I didn’t know about it, but Arianna boasted about using it against Berthal. I tried to stop you, but-”
“A trap,” Tythonnia said. “They couldn’t have known! How did they know?”
“They knew what to do the moment the key was stolen … the one Mariyah took.”
Mariyah looked up, her face absolutely horror-stricken.
“Did you really think we’d leave a book of spells by Gadrella of Tarsis, of all people, where it was? Especially when we had the key this entire time. The real book hasn’t been there in decades.”
Tythonnia stopped pacing as the revelation settled in. She stumbled and fell into a velvet-covered settee.
“Once Mariyah stole the key, the Black Robes placed the book of
“No,” Tythonnia whispered. “The Black Robes wouldn’t move against the highmage like this. The other orders-”
“The Red Robes were complicit in this, Tythonnia. We found a strong ally in Belize.”
“But-”
“I’m sorry,” Ladonna said. “The Black and Red Robes realized they couldn’t afford to capture Berthal. They couldn’t make a martyr of him. Neither could they murder him outright without accomplishing the same thing. He had to die of his own arrogance, his own undoing.”
With that, Ladonna walked toward the doorway, but she hesitated at the archway leading onto the entrance porch. “I’ll tell the orders you both died fighting alongside Berthal. I saved you, and you too Mariyah; that’s as far as I go, Tythonnia. If you want to live out your remaining years in peace, I suggest you hide and never practice magic again. Tythonnia and Mariyah are dead. Find new lives.”
“And if we don’t?” Tythonnia asked, almost whispering through the pangs of sorrow.
“Then I’ll find you and kill you both myself. Don’t make me regret this.”
“I’ll never forgive you,” Tythonnia said bitterly.
“Perhaps,” Ladonna responded. “But I couldn’t let a friend die … no matter how much she wanted to.”
Ladonna chanced a last glance back at the two women holding each other fiercely. She walked through the door and out into the sunlight of Palanthas. She had to find a way back home, if she still had a home.
Par-Salian stumbled as he reappeared in his bed chamber. He was exhausted, spent of all the magic he knew. A wizard without his spells was a truly terrible thing, for his mind felt empty from the loss of knowledge and his spirit seemingly tapped beyond reach of recovery. Yet, he knew, rest would not be his reward.
He only prayed that Ladonna had escaped safely.
“Did you save anyone?” a voice asked.
Par-Salian spun around in surprise. There was nobody there a moment before, but Highmage Astathan was seated there, next to his bed.
With almost knee-jerk panic, Par-Salian wanted to explain what he’d done and why he’d done it, but
