The Inquisition (Summoner, #2)(107)

‘Othello, go!’ Fletcher yelled.

The dwarf sprinted into the portal, Tosk and Ignatius clutched to his chest. Athena flew in after him, her flight erratic under the paralysis. For the briefest moment, Lady Cavendish raised her hand, as if to touch the Gryphowl.

‘Cress, take Lady Cavendish, now!’ Fletcher shouted, as another explosion rocked the room. The first goblin appeared, jamming its head through a gap in the blockade. It screeched as it tried to push through, clawing at the rock.

Cress grabbed Lady Cavendish’s hand, but the noblewoman was suddenly responsive once again. She struggled with the dwarf, pulling away.

‘Athena,’ she yelled hoarsely. ‘Where’s Athena? My baby!’

In that moment, Fletcher knew. Her face was just like Lady Forsyth’s, when he had seen her at his trial. He had seen her younger self in his dream, standing over his crib.

‘Mother,’ Fletcher breathed, his heart pounding. ‘Alice Raleigh.’

At the sound of her name, the fight went out of her. She turned her eyes to Fletcher.

‘Follow Athena,’ Fletcher said, smiling through his tears. ‘Cress will take you to her.’

Then he was alone, Cress dragging his mother into the portal.

One more detonation blew the rubble apart, the shockwave rushing over him like a hailstorm. He took one last look at the world.

And threw himself into the ether.