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“Wait, what?” Amelia glanced down at the satchel. “You have the third painting?”
I refused to answer her question. “Do you know where the others are?”
“Yes, yes. They’re in the auditorium. Come on, I can lead you guys.”
Amelia hurried to the arched doorway, throwing it open to reveal a curving hallway made of solid glass. We ran behind Amelia, the ocean gently caressing us on all sides. Soft blue rays of light played across the floor. Outside, we could see the rubble of other glass structures from when this entertainment complex used to be above water and not below it. There were columns that broke apart like stone, creating a see-through reef for the colorful fish that swam between the ruins. There were bright yellow sunray fish, blue and green parrot fish, purple clown fish, even what looked like small mako sharks swimming through the glass.
It was beautiful, but there was no time to admire it.
“This way!” Amelia shouted, taking a sharp turn and slamming into a door with her shoulder. The door swung open, and we spilled out into the Glass Auditorium.
It truly was a magnificent space. Even I had to take a moment to pause and absorb how beautiful this sinister hideout really was.
The domed glass walls of the theatre encased us. It was like being in a bubble underwater. There was tiered seating that faced the large stage, where two big red velvet curtains were hanging shut. There appeared to be enough seating for over two hundred people here.
And we weren’t the only ones here for the show either.
Four cultists rose from their seats, pulled out of whatever meditative trance they were in. One was about to ask a question, but I didn’t allow it, sending a blast of ice directly to his face and knocking him out instantly. The other three realized what was happening and burst into action, launching over seats to get to us, their red robes making them appear like angry comets.
I hit another one with ice, sending her tumbling over some seats, where she knocked her head against the floor and passed out.
Two left. One was on me, using a sword of red mana to clumsily swipe through the air. The other sent off blue threads, which wrapped around Amelia’s head and caused her to start shouting bloody murder, the shrill cries echoing through the auditorium.
“Help her,” I shouted to Caleb as I kept my cultist busy.
“On it!” He got to work trying to unravel the threads of the illusion from Amelia, blocking another attempt from the cultist with his own threads. I felt a surge of pride for my Caleb, seeing how far he’d come.
But again, no time for celebrations. I lurched back as the ruby-red sword sliced through the air, the deadly, sharp point scratching the tip of my nose. If he wanted to have a sword fight, then so fucking be it.
I summoned an equally impressive sword of ice, the bitter cold a comfort in my palms. The cultist swung his sword, meeting mine in the air with a loud clash. Then another, and another. The force of it made my teeth rattle in my skull. He swiped out and upward, slicing across my forearm. The pain flashed like lightning, adrenaline working to ease it. I used the same forearm to block another swipe of the cultist’s sword, twisting his arm and spinning him in front of me.
My ice, sharp like a diamond, found his throat. Sliced. The cultist dropped to the floor, a limp rag doll as his life poured out of him.
The blood dripped off the ice, tinging it red.
We had the upper hand. We were winning.
“The paintings are on the stage!” Amelia shouted.
There they were, lined up on three easels in the center of the stage, lit by bright spotlights. They were large, swirling, mesmerizing pieces of delicately painted colors, the balance of them almost unnervingly perfect. And somewhere in those swirls was the map we so desperately needed to destroy. Caleb ran toward them, opening the satchel. I had to be ready to destroy them. I couldn’t let a single clue about the location of Niazatos’ lock be revealed.
The door to the auditorium opened, but I shot a stream of ice at the frame, freezing it in place. That should buy us a few more minutes.
Caleb made it onto the stage. He was about to pull the painting from the satchel when everything suddenly went to complete and total fucking shit.
From the side of the stage leapt a snow leopard, its white-and-black fur flashing through the air like a bullet. Claws outstretched, jaw wide open, it landed on Caleb with a loud thud and a hair-raising roar, Caleb shrieking in shock. I had let loose a jet of icicles, but they all missed, slamming against the glass wall behind the stage.
