Lowering himself onto his knees, he shrugged. “I have and haven’t. But you would know that already.”
The Gortach’s grin spread wider. With a slight tremor, Adair held out his forearm, the dried blood caking his skin. Those silver eyes flicked down to the wound, ravenous. Slithering fear uncoiled throughout him, but he could barely process it as the Gortach lowered his cracked lips to Adair’s skin. The wound reopened, and the world tilted as his blood flowed. The Gortach rippled, the appearance of his decaying body fading, replaced by a haunted youth. Adair balked as he looked at the mirror of himself. That ancient voice shook through him, his mind, his core. “Now, what is it you seek? Your heart, Adair, is consumed by your desires.”
Swallowing hard, he whispered, “What is Roque Fae hiding in the Academy?” The creature paused, tilting his head, assessing him. When he replied, it was as sharp as a swords edge. “Are you sure that is the secret you wish to hear? You know the rules.”
“Yes, my blood will grant me one answer. I am certain. What are they hiding?”
The Gortach crawled toward him, his nails scraping against the dirt. “The time for Kiero’s reign in prosperity is over. Darkness tinges the future, bathing it in death and destruction. Be prepared, Adair Stratton. We will all be unmade. Roque Fae has in his possession an ancient, binding magic. One that was never his to keep. The secrets of ultimate power. In the form of the Book of Old.”
Something clicked within Adair.
The Gortach was face to face with him, his breath putrid as he whispered, “Find this, and you will be free.”
Sweat started to collect at the base of his neck. “Free from the unmaking of our world? What do you mean? What is the Book of Old?”
He replied, his voice gravelly, “Are you requesting another answer?”
He went still. Practically trying to hold his breath, he exhaled. “No.”
The image of youth drained from the Gortach, leaving in place its true form. Baring his teeth, he spat, “That’s not what it sounded like to me.” He lunged forward unnaturally fast, his now sharpened nails slashing toward him.
Stumbling back, Adair ran to the back of the room.
The Gortach stood to his full height, chuckling darkly. The crevices caught shadows across his features and body, making him look distorted. The image burned into him as the only light source in the room went out.
Pushing his back flush to the cool, earthy wall, Adair’s heartbeat thundered, shaking him to the core. Images flashed through his mind as his panic flooded through him. Giggles sounded in the darkness as the shadows moved. Their sickly movements, those pitiless eyes. The pinned-back grins revealing sharpened teeth. And the world, ripped to its core, bleeding. He didn’t know if he was hallucinating, but as the Gortach stalked him in the darkness, his image flickered back and forth. Gortach. Those pale faces. Gortach. Their sharpened grins. Gortach. Their empty sockets held him as a dim green light pulsed again in the darkness. The room was empty... the Gortach seemingly gone.
Four of them circled him, reaching for him. Their hands stroked his skin, his wound, as they cooed to him, “Adair, don’t let our watcher scare you. Don’t allow us to scare you. You must go. Find the Book of Old. Help us.”
The creature to his right tugged his hair, exposing his throat as she whispered in his ear, “We will watch as the world burns. Together.” Their giggles encircled him, the darkness washing over him once more. Hot tears spilled down his face, and as he blinked, the Gortach roared back into his deadly reality. Mounds of dirt exploded around him as he threw his body weight forward, rolling.
The Gortach snarled. “I will have all of you, Adair. Your dark desires, your soul. It’s. Mine.”
He heard the scuffling as the Gortach loped behind him. He was blindly running full tilt, his blood, his tears, his sweat, burning his skin. Stumbling, dirt filled his mouth, and his muscles screamed, move, move, move! He wasn’t about to die in the throes of dark magic. Growling, he rolled onto his back just as he saw the skeletal body fly forward. Pinning him to the ground. The Gortach used his forearm to press down hard on his esophagus, cutting off his oxygen. Adair used all his remaining energy, kicking hard, clawing at his back.
The Gortach grinned down at him, snarling. “You are just a man. I am made of magic and you cannot win.” The smell of rotting flesh filled his senses, and frantically he spiraled in those silver eyes that churned with knowing. With victory. Spots filled his vision, and he couldn’t let go, he wouldn’t stop... trying...
“You best get off my mate there.” Marquis’s voice sounded behind them just as the light flared, chasing away the darkness. The Gortach snapped his attention to the young prince, roaring. Marquis’s lips pulled upward, and he looked annoyingly calm. His emerald eyes flashed, and he snapped his fingers together. The earth underneath them churned, droplets of water oozing from the dirt, floating up and spinning around the Gortach. The droplets suspended and grew until a hissing ball of water consumed the Gortach. With widened eyes, he clawed and snapped, his anger lost in the water as the sphere ripped him away from Adair.
Choking, Adair rolled onto his side, heaving for air, blissfully taking it in.
“Adair, you have to get up. Come on.”
He complied, wheezing, as Marquis supported most of his weight. More lights flared as they ran, the underground room expanding much larger than he had thought. The world shuddered and Marquis pulled him down, hard. Gravity pulled their weight, and they slipped through a small crack. There was a compressing darkness, and then the wind howled fiercely as they freefell into a different world. Snowy mountains beneath a starry sky was all he glimpsed as they plummeted toward the ground.
Their screams were lost in
