Crowned (Beholder #4)(13)

Rowan’s gaze met mine. “We can do this.”

I gave his hand a squeeze. “I believe you.”

Moving in unison, we took a step closer to the newly formed entrance at the base of the cliff wall. The giant carvings of Mlinzi and Walinzi let out an angry hiss.

“Elea comes alone,” they said. “Or not at all.”

My blood chilled. Facing them by myself? That seemed like a terrible idea. I turned to Rowan. “Perhaps there’s another way.”

“We know the Sword in hidden in two parts,” said Rowan. “It would be hard enough to find one piece without their help, let alone two. And since Viktor is raising an army, we don’t have time for alternatives. You must go.”

I nodded. Rowan was right. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’ll succeed, Elea. I have every faith in you.”

Warmth and joy spread through my chest. Going up on tiptoe, I wrapped my arms about Rowan’s neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Normally, this type of action would cause the Casters to whoop in celebration. Now, we were met by perfect silence. The heavy quiet felt as ominous as a curse.

I broke the kiss. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

Rowan pressed his forehead against mine. “Remember, Mlinzi and Walinzi may be tricksters, but you are more than their match. Necromancers have great skill with word games. It’s not a Caster ability.”

Rowan was working to build up my confidence, and I loved him for it. I wanted to tell him a thousand things: How much I adored him and his people…How happy I’d been these last months together…The way he’d changed my life and made the future something to look forward to. I could only whisper two words: “Thank you.”

Turning, I began the slow march toward the cliff wall. In the growing darkness, I could see the outline of a bright orange gateway gleaming at its base. The Casters stepped away as I walked by, lining up to form a makeshift passageway. An elderly woman reached out her winkled hand to mine.

“Viktor took my grandbaby when he was only nine. Fight for us.”

My eyes stung. I couldn’t imagine someone kidnapping Jicho, let alone experimenting on him and turning that innocence into a weapon. I reached out tentatively, my hand shaking. Our fingertips brushed as I stepped past. My mouth twitched with held-in emotions. I was no expert at speech making. The touch would have to be enough.

I stepped forward. Another hand reached out.

“My mother is a Changed One.”

And again.

“My best friend was taken.”

I reached out, brushing my fingertips against theirs. Suddenly, all the Casters on either side of the makeshift passageway were reaching out to me. Rough whispers echoed through the night air.

“My village has disappeared.”

“Our Changed Ones are vanishing.”

“Protect them.”

“Save us.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks. Crying was forbidden by Necromancers—it was a sign that we’d lost control of our emotions. But I couldn’t seem to stop my tears.

These sad souls. So many had lost friends and family to Viktor, and now I was their last hope to protect their loved ones.

I closed in on the glowing orange gateway with one thought on my mind: this simply had to work. For all of us.





Chapter Seven




Lowering my arms, I walked through the opening the rock wall and entered a dark tunnel. A spine-rattling boom sounded behind me as the cliff face magickally sewed itself together behind me.

I was trapped now. There was no returning to the Caster village.

The tunnel became so quiet, the sound of my own breath turned deafening. The darkness around me seemed almost absolute. I spun about, my footfalls sloshing on the wet cave floor. A faint glimmer reflected off the water—a light shone up ahead. I blinked hard as my vision adjusted. Surely, I could cast a spell for brightness, but I wanted to save all my energy for Mlinzi and Walinzi. Who knew what would happen once I met them?

With every passing second, my vision grew sharper. I scanned the walls around me. The passage appeared to be rough-hewn from a massive chunk of natural stone. For years, I had studied Necromancy at the Zelle Cloister, a place that had literally been scraped out of a mountain by skeletal servants. I knew a carved passageway when I saw one.

I followed the faint glimmer on the water. Soon the tunnel grew brighter. More sounds echoed in as well. I could make out the unmistakable growl of predators, the bright caws of birds, and the low chitter of insects. This combination of noise was something else I was quite familiar with—the unmistakable sounds of a jungle. What better place to greet monkey gods?

I followed the growing light and sound until I reached another archway. In the space beneath the arch wound lines of orange light.

Magick.

This was another gateway. But to where?

Holding my breath, I stepped into the net of orange light.

For a moment, it felt as if every fiber of my body was being torn apart. Orange and yellow lights flashed around me. The scent of charcoal and blood filled my senses.

The next thing I knew, I was standing in the most unusual jungle I’d ever seen. In some ways, the place resembled the lands around Rowan’s castle. Palm trees stood tall, vines dangling from their wide fronds. Long-beaked birds swooped between the trunks. Insects crept along the muddy earth below them. Humidity and heat pressed onto my skin.