“It’s coming for her,” I said, still willing myself forward down the hall. The others quickly followed after me as I continued my explanation. “It’s been biding its time, waiting for her wound to weaken her enough that it can take control.”
“Are you saying that it’s been playing with us this whole time?” Cirian asked.
Another rumble rippled through the Cradle, creaks echoing through the stone walls. I urged my aching legs forward, breaking into a run. There could still be time to reach Sancha. If we could just intervene, we could drive the Umbral away like we’d done twice before.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Cirian muttered, his breathing labored as he kept my pace.
“We’ll get her,” Bastien assured him.
A third disturbance rippled through the ground beneath our feet, nearly causing me to stumble. The shaking was getting stronger, and I could only hope that didn’t mean Sancha was already fighting for her life.
We rounded a corner just as the wall a few yards ahead of us exploded, pelting us with rubble and a searing wave of heat. The force hurled me against the wall opposite the blast, my knees buckling underneath me as I landed, falling into a crumpled heap on the floor. My ears rang, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I struggled to right myself. Bastien was already on his feet, shouting something I couldn’t hear over the incessant ringing. I couldn’t see Cirian in the haze of the settling dust, but the way forward, towards the source of the blast, was littered with slabs of grey stone and timber. The stone closest to me had scorch marks that spread like a lightning bolt across the surface, burned into the stone itself.
Bastien crawled over the rubble, his voice finally filtering through enough for me to make out.
“Cirian!”
Getting to my feet felt like an impossible task, but once I’d managed it, I followed Bastien, pausing only to lean over and spit the mixture of grit and blood from my mouth. Making it over the first barrier, I recognized the deep color of the shattered wood that lay in heaps around me. It was the same wood that lined the altar back in Sancha's sanctuary.
We’d arrived too late.
Pushing through the rubble, I ducked through what used to be a doorway. The damage was just as prevalent here as it had been in the hall. Rows of benches had been smashed, each reduced to piles of lumber and stone. The altar suffered a similar fate, being ripped from the very foundation itself and hurled across the room. Cirian knelt by the space it had once occupied, his face buried in Bastien’s chest.
There was no sign of Sancha, nor of the others who had occupied this room during our last visit. I could only hope that they were able to escape whatever caused this destruction. Butthere was so much stone. It could have concealed the bodies of all of them.
“I can’t lose her, Bast,” Cirian's voice rose above the residual ringing in my ears. “I can’t. I swear on the Source itself. It will be the end of me.”
“We’ll find her,” Bastien replied.
“We’ll save her,” I clarified, joining them in the wreckage of the altar. “She can’t have gone far. Where would the Umbral take her?”
Bastien nodded. “If we’re right about it wanting to destroy the Source, then it would take her to the place where it manifests.”
“The Communion,” Cirian said, his voice raw and eyes wet. “It’s beneath us, at the very heart of the Cradle.”
“You need to lead us there,” I said to him, wincing as I knelt beside the two of them. “But before you do, I need to ask if you can spare any magic. I’m in desperate need of a healer.”
Cirian wiped the tears from his face, nodding. “Yes, right. Gods, I’m sorry, Azrael. You must be in such anguish.”
“It’s nothing I can’t bear. But I want to make sure I can move freely. If a conflict is imminent, then we need to be ready.”
Cirian rose onto his feet, muttering an incantation under his breath, and his hands began to glow with cerulean light. He cupped those hands around my face, leaning down to press his forehead to mine, and it wasn’t long before I felt the warmth of his tears as they dripped down upon my face.
Relief surged through me as I felt his magic go to work, reknitting torn muscles and setting splintered bones as it went. After a minute or two, I placed my hands over his, pulling them away gently.
“That’s enough,” I told him, giving a slight nod. “You’ll want to save the rest for later.”
Cirian sniffed, wiping the end of his nose. He looked exhausted. We all did. But there was a monster waiting for us at the heart of the Cradle, and ready or not, we had to face it.
Rising to join Cirian, I stretched, enjoying the brief respite from my injuries. Pain had a tendency to cloud the mind. Now I could think clearly and focus on the task ahead.
“We need to get to the heart,” I said, looking between Bastien and Cirian.
“What do you intend to do when we get there?” Bastien questioned. “Neither of us can stand up to Sancha. Especially if her restraint has been throttled.”
“But the three of us together stand a chance,” I suggested. “At least long enough that we can get the tether attached to her like we did for Bastien and myself.”
Bastien scratched his chin, not at all convinced. “Itcouldwork. We’d have to be extremely lucky. Plus, we have no guarantee the tether will work for her. It’s only been tested on those of us who share the connection already.”
