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Himureal bucks against the vines, but I can see light dimming in his eyes as the decay seeps into him. “I’ve got some of his magic decaying, Viola, but we have to move fast!” Mace shouts, grabbing me by the arm. A loud roar escapes Himureal as he fights from the vines. Ice creeps around his feet, rushing to freeze me to the spot.
“I will not let you leave here, Shadowweaver! You belong to me!”
“I belong to myself, and it’s time everyone fucking learns that.” I summon a large shard of ice to pin the vines holding Himureal to the floor and cast the room into a blanket of shadows.
I hear the vines creaking and falling to the floor under his strength and worry that it will not be enough to allow us to escape him, but still, I run towards the tunnel with the others.
Plume skids to a stop. “Wait. I have an idea.”
She runs back towards the garrison despite all our protests, and I see purple flecks of magic swirling off her as she runs. She reaches the head of the tunnel, and I hear a scream reverberate through the room, panicked and pained.
“How could you!” Stone’s voice bellows. “I brought you back! It was my planning…”
“Morrow, shield the entrance!” she shouts as she runs back to us. He steps forward, and orange magic swirls before us, bracing and shielding the tunnel entrance.
Stone’s angry words fade as we run.
The five of us slam ourselves into the elevator, rising to the surface of the Summit. We stumble out into the fresh air and turn to face the entry latch, blown open by ice from Himureal’s Witch’s Ladder such a short time ago.
Together, we push the door back over the hole, and Morrow calls upon flames to melt the metals together. Plume builds vines around the surface. I watch as Mace calls forth ore, encasing the entire mountain face with a layer of metal.
With the door heavily blocked, I stare at the team of four who just pulled me from the grasp of a clearly wrathful God. My eyes land on Morrow, a complete stranger who just risked everything. “Morrow, I can’t thank…”
He waves me off with a grunt. “I couldn’t just let him take you, could I?” I bump my shoulder into his, nodding towards Tulip as he turns and fixes his eyes on her.
She’s oblivious to the look he’s giving her, but I see it.
“You resurrected Stone?” I hear Mace ask Plume incredulously.
I spin to see that she turns green at the question. “I feel awful, I do. No doubt Himureal kills him again before the spell is up. But I just thought the distraction…”
I put a hand on her shoulder. “It was a great distraction. Thanks, Plume.”
Mace agrees, looking at all of us. “Himureal must not have been at full strength since he just returned to this plane. We will not be so lucky next time. But that was excellent work and quick thinking on all your parts.”
Tulip, shaken and with bruises forming from her capture, slides to me, grabbing my hand to tearfully say, “Looks like we’re back where we started.” Max’s presence weighs heavily here, the grief we both felt last time we stood on this rock overwhelming our senses.
Mace moves to me and leans to place a chaste kiss on my lips, bringing me out of the spiral of grief that threatened to bury me. The images I saw in Stone’s blood push to the surface, and when I look at his beautiful face, I ache at what I am hiding from him.
Plume wipes her hands clean on her pants and looks out towards Dalery. “It won’t hold him long. We’ve got to move.” Morrow leans against the rock of the Summit and mutters to himself about the trouble he’s gotten himself into, eliciting a nervous chuckle from the rest of us.
I turn to look out over the Lowlands, my home, and reach my free hand to Mace, entwining our fingers to ground me in his fortitude.
“It looks like a normal life will have to wait. We have a God to stop.”
Epilogue
Zeph
Mybodyisonegiant bruise as I finally free myself from the vines and chains binding me. I had to wait for the decay to wear off and my magic to return to finally melt the ties that bound me. When my eyes adjust, and I realize no one is in the tunnel with me, I slowly rise to my feet to get out of the Gods-forsaken garrison.
Viola made her choice very clear, and so apparently did my best friend and brother. My ill-advised attempt to force her hand has left me with nothing but shame to show for it. The anger at my situation grows within me like a disease, rapidly expanding to fill every part of me.
When I exit the tunnel they stashed me in, my eyes are drawn to a tall and imposing man. He leans over the table in the middle of the garrison, frustration evident in the aggressive way he flips the pages of a book in front of him. The man hears me and turns his gaze on me, eyes ice blue and hair long and white. He’s beautiful and other-worldly - as if he fell into Krillium accidentally.
He barely looks at me when he speaks. “Who are you, then?”
His voice is rough, as if he lost something but cannot grieve. “Zeph Nightroot,” I answer warily, taking a few hesitant steps toward him.
