A moment of confusion passed over Galanör’s face. “I do. It’s the only one of the three I have left.”
“Good,” Inara replied, her tone clipped. “Give it to me.”
The elf hesitated as his hand moved to the pouch on his belt. “You have a plan for it?”
“I do,” Inara said, noting the blue gemmed ring on his finger. “I’ve been here before, remember. I think I know where he’s going. I can get us there first.”
“A portal will drain you,” Aenwyn pointed out with obvious concern.
Inara sheathed Firefly on her belt and tapped the crystal pommel. “I have reserves to call upon. Besides, it’s like you said - we’ve come too far to do anything else. The best we can do now is get ahead of potential traps and lay one ourselves.” The Guardian held out her hand to Galanör, waiting for the crystal.
Galanör removed the crystal from its pouch and moved to drop it into Inara’s waiting palm.
Inara didn’t catch it.
Instead, she flipped her hand and let the crystal continue its fall to the floor. The moment her hand was above Galanör’s, she snatched at it with a vice-like grip, ensuring the pressure was intense enough to keep his fingers extended. Her free hand whipped up like a viper and called the Hastion gem to her grasp with a touch of magic.
Before the crystal had even hit the floor, Inara took advantage of Galanör’s surprise and yanked him forward. At the same time, she put all of her weight behind the elbow she drove into the centre of his chest. The air from his lungs was instantly expelled in one sharp breath. She then released his wrist and threw a knotted fist into his jaw, taking him off his feet. Aware that she needed to continue her momentum, the Guardian dropped into a crouch, scooped up the crystal, and rolled across the floor to meet the elf as he landed.
Coughing and wheezing for breath, Galanör was helpless to stop Inara from removing the satchel on his belt and clipping it to her own. As she attached that last clip, an arrow tip came to rest beside her head.
“What are you doing?” Aenwyn demanded, her bow string pulled taut to her cheek.
Inara held out her hands, one still closed around the crystal, and slowly backed away from Galanör. “Saving your lives,” she answered.
Confident that Aenwyn would never actually fire on her, Inara flicked her wrist and sent the crystal to the floor. It landed perfectly between the two elves and tore a circular portal through the stone. Taken by surprise, Aenwyn released her arrow high into the air as she fell through beside Galanör. Inara didn’t allow the portal to linger, a drain on her energy, and closed it the second they were clear of the abyss. Though she could no longer see them, the Guardian knew they had just dropped into The Bastion’s throne room.
The drain in energy was immediate and unforgiving. Inara felt her knees buckle and the charred floor rise up to greet her. The urge to vomit was overwhelming, though not so powerful as the urge to simply lie down and give in to sleep. Before oblivion claimed her, and it was coming for her, the Guardian gripped Firefly’s crystal pommel and absorbed the magic therein. Strength returned to her bones and her stomach settled, as did her spinning mind.
Rising to her feet, Inara took a breath and clenched one of her fists. The crystal pommel hadn’t restored all of her magic, that much she could feel. She could only hope it was enough.
Now to finish her hunt.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The incessant noise turned Alijah’s gaze to the floor. His brow furrowed in confusion. Blood was worming down his hand and dripping from the tips of his fingers. But where had it come from? The question began to evaporate before he could even finish the thought. He blinked and the blood was nowhere to be seen and the small puddle beside him was gone, concealed from his eyes.
He pushed off from the cold wall, barely able to wonder why he had been leaning against it in the first place. Before he could turn the next corner, however, a fissure was ripped open in his mind. He staggered to the other wall and reached to steady himself. He saw flashes of lightning and glimpses of Athis and a smaller dragon coming at him with fangs and claws.
Then there was pain. Lots of pain. Alijah cried out, sure that a dozen blades had pierced his skin. Then came the rage and the fury. It rose up in Alijah and manifested itself in the form of a savage roar that resounded through The Bastion.
When his outburst came to an end, he was in an entirely different part of the fortress with no memory of how he got there. But he knew where he was. In the pouring rain, under a wrathful sky, Alijah looked out on The Vrost Mountains from The Bastion’s highest platform, a balcony that had seen its circular edge weathered and broken in parts.
How had he found himself here? Why did he always end up here?
His mind was unable to hold on to any question, let alone answer it. A thundering drum beat inside his head, drawing his hand up to nurse it. When it came away, the rain was washing blood from his palm.
“What is happening to me?” he whispered, staggering towards the jagged edge.
An ear-splitting roar defied the storm and turned Alijah to the sky. Malliath swooped out of a dark cloud and clubbed Athis around the face with his tail. The red dragon was taken from flight for a moment before his senses returned and his wings kept him from smashing into the mountainside.
Focus! Malliath’s voice cleared through his mind like a purging forest fire. Return to the fight. Kill them all!
Alijah’s pupils shrank to points. He could no
