She lunged to the side but not in time to avoid the horse clipping her in the back. Knocked off balance, she fell beneath the animal as Corson succeeded in severing Pestilence’s head with his talons. The horse vanished into a cloud of dust.
“Aisling,” I breathed as I ran toward her.
She was pushing herself to her hands and knees when I fell beside her and rested my hand on her back. I gently felt for any broken bones while reassuring myself she was okay.
“I’m fine.” She winced as she gripped my hand and pulled it away from her back before smiling. “They’re dead.”
“They’re dead,” I agreed.
I brushed back a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear before wiping away the smoke and soot streaking her face to expose her pale skin. Her eyes were shadowed and bloodshot from exhaustion and smoke, but they shone with happiness.
“Where’s the other horseman?” Corson asked.
I looked back toward the cave, but there was no sign of the horseman or Bale. The others had stopped fighting each other, so did that mean the other horseman was dead? Or maybe because he was in the fire the effects of his powers weren’t as strong?
“We have to help Bale,” Aisling said.
Before I could stop her, she pushed herself up and staggered to her feet. I rose beside her and gripped her arm when she winced. Her hand went to her ribs as she leaned against me. Pestilence’s horse had done more damage than I realized.
“Are your ribs broken?” I asked as I wrapped my arm around her waist and she leaned against me.
“No, they’re just bruised.”
“You have to rest.”
“Oliver!” she cried and winced again when she stumbled forward.
I pulled her back and tucked her securely against my side. “You’re going to be fine, but you’re not going to heal if you keep pushing yourself,” I told her. “We’ll find Bale and get Oliver.”
“If Bale is still in the labyrinth, you won’t be able to go into the fire like I can,” she said.
“We’ll figure it out, but you can’t go back into the fire like this either. We have no idea where Wrath or the minotaur are, and you can’t face them wounded. Sit and allow yourself to heal for a few minutes.”
She opened her mouth to argue with me, but then her legs gave out and she sank to the ground as Nadine emerged from the cave with Oliver in her arms. Bruises marred Nadine’s face and arms, but she looked otherwise unharmed. Oliver pulled his thumb from his mouth and smiled at Aisling.
Chapter Forty-Two
Bale
I kept my sword high and my eyes on the fire as I edged toward the exit. I had no idea where Wrath went, but I sensed him stalking me. The flames crackled all around me as they fueled my power, but I suspected they fueled his power too.
A shift in the flames drew my eyes to the left as Wrath strolled from the fire like he was walking through the park. I half expected him to clasp his hands behind his back and start skipping toward me while he whistled, but he smiled as he sauntered like he had all the time in the world.
This bastard had no idea who he was dealing with, and I’d wipe that amused expression off his too handsome face if it was the last thing I did.
The inferno had eaten away his clothes. I refused to admire the breadth of his broad, bare shoulders or how chiseled the muscles of his large, powerful body were. The man was a wall of steel.
In his hand, he held the sword that was strapped to his back when he first entered the maze. Flickering flames filled his orange-red eyes. Fire encircled his sword, and he lifted his hands at his sides to push the flames toward me.
Before I could react, the flames surging toward me whipped my hair back and momentarily blinded me. I didn’t try to see or fight through it as instinct told me tomove. Ducking, I threw myself to the ground, but I didn’t roll away like he probably expected. Instead, I went toward him and popped up a few feet away from him.
He leapt back as I swung my sword out. The blade cut through the flames, and the tip skimmed his chest to spill his black blood. Before the blood could trickle too far down his chest, the fire ate it away.
Wrath glanced at his chest before smiling at me. I didn’t know if his presence was fueling my fury or the fact he keptsmilingat me, but my temples throbbed, and it took all I had not to swing my sword viciously at him. He wanted me to lose control, because once I did, I would die.
Gritting my teeth, I kept my temper leashed as I lunged at him. He parried fast enough to knock my blade aside, but I didn’t stop pressing him. I was strong and fast, but Wrath was an ancient demon with more power than I possessed. His strength would eventually wear me down, and when it did, he would kill me.
The only advantage I had against him was my agility and speed. If I deflected the head-severing blows he swung at me, I might get the chance to dart past his defenses and injure, if not, kill him.
