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Dreams of Dust

Page 80

by Isabella Stofka

“Then let’s remove it now.” Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. She heard her breaths coming short and quick but she didn’t feel any of it reach her lungs. She had to do something. There was an arrow protruding from his back. An arrow that had been meant for her.

“No,” Lotta ordered. “The risk of ripping something vital is too great.”

Marcellus’ hand grabbed hers, prying it away as he fought to stand. “I’m fine, Princess.” The strain in his voice alone told her he wasn’t fine, but it was almost drowned out by the roar of the arrows.

“Desert Kingdom guards,” Elian grunted, hands outstretched as he poured more energy into the barrier. The arrows were relentless as they rained down upon it. Some hit with a resounding boom as orange and yellow fire exploded upon impact. Enchanted arrows.

“How many are there?” Marcellus asked. He was standing now, though every move he made had his jaw clenching so tightly Thicket could practically hear the grind of his teeth.

“I don’t even know where they are coming from.”

“There!” Lotta pointed to the balcony above. At least a dozen arrow heads were trained on them, firing with startling speed. Another half dozen guards raced away from the balcony, most likely heading to the nearest stairwell. Cracks formed in the barrier of air. It wouldn’t hold much longer.

“We need to get back to the tunnel,” Marcellus said. He shoved Thicket forward, shepherding her towards the hedges. Bern, Elian, and Lotta raced behind her. Marcellus, despite being injured, managed to keep up.

The barrier shattered. Arrows whizzed past her head, exploding at her feet.

Thicket darted through the narrow opening of the hedge maze. Arrows protruded from the shrubs behind her, shielding her as she wrapped around the first corner. Her shoulders slammed into the bushes as she fought to navigate the sharp turns. Heavy footfalls sounded behind her. Thicket prayed these were her friends’ and not the guards’. She ran faster, making a sharp right turn down another bend. Her feet skidded to a stop as the hedges closed in, sealing off her path.

She turned, changing course.

An explosion burst at the end of the path. The leaves caught on fire, trapping her within the small passage. Orange flames spread quickly and smoke invaded her lungs. Thicket gasped, clawing at her chest for air.

A panther leaped through the fire. Its translucent body steamed as the water it had been conjured from made contact with the flames, dousing them enough for Thicket to stumble through.

Lotta caught her as she emerged, ushering her down the main path leading out towards the stairs. “We are almost there,” she said.

Right as Thicket cleared the last line of the maze, the phoenix screeched, plunging from the sky, talons outstretched. Thicket ducked out of reach. Her boots stepped too far off the edge and she fell, tumbling down the steps.

She groaned, body aching as she fought to rise. Droplets hit her cheeks as the waterfall crashed beside her.

“Thicket!” She lifted her head to see the bricks halfway up the steps rearranging, merging across the pond separating the two halves of the staircase. Elian and Lotta were already on the other side. Bern and Marcellus weren’t far behind.

Thicket legs pumped up the stairs. Bern cleared the bridge. Marcellus, still injured, lagged behind her. His steps were slowing, legs wavering.

And then, he crumpled.

“Marcellus!” Thicket raced towards him, falling to her knees at his side.

His eyes fluttered, brows pinched together in pain. His arms and legs twitched, as though he was trying to move them but they just wouldn’t cooperate.

Something was wrong. Something beyond just the arrow. She knew it must have hurt, but Marcellus had fought with injuries of the same caliber before.

She dug her fingers into the hole of the bloodstained fabric and ripped it open. The muscled planes of his back were obscured by smears of blood, but the bleeding had slowed. She searched for any other signs that could tell her what was causing his pain. Then she saw it. The red swell of skin surrounding the arrow. It wasn’t just a flesh wound. It was the same sores she had woken up with after the Lost Soul Lagoon.

The arrows weren’t just enchanted—they were laced with jellyfish venom.

The Desert Kingdom guards broke through the hedge maze.

“Go,” Marcellus grunted, probably coming to the same realization she had. “Get out of here.”

“I am not leaving without you.” Thicket stood, an incantation at her lips. The image of Elian’s bloodied, limp body pierced through her mind. Her chest constricted and she sank back onto her knees, the incantation dying on her tongue.

Arrows vaulted for her. There wasn’t time to dodge. Thicket flung herself over Marcellus, squeezing her eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

“Flyar!” Branches creaked as they shot from the hedges, wrapping around the guards and pulling them back into the maze.

Bern stepped into view. “I can’t hold them for long,” she said, voice straining with the effort it took to bind the thrashing guards.