My jaw clenches so hard a muscle throbs at my temple.“You piss-poor excuse for a soldier!I told you to scope every single building, yet here I am finding you’ve found evidence of activity and you’ve donenothing?!”
I close the distance until our noses touch.A pulse of heat climbs my spine, a desperate reach for the dregs of my power.Energy surges in my palms.I squeeze my hands into fists, trying to keep the tension from spilling, but it’s no use.
“But, sir?—”
I don’t let him finish.I lash out, a snake of gold striking his chest.He drops with a heavy thud, his eyes dulling as they find a god he doesn’t deserve.
No one moves.
The air hums with the static of my rage.
“Take me there,” I tell the survivor.“If you’ve lost them, you’ll be meeting Solan sooner than you think.”
The storehouse door groans as we enter.Guards swarm the perimeter, scanning the dust for any shred of evidence.
“Sir!”a voice calls from the dark.“We’ve got something.”
She waits for you,Uri’s voice slithers through my mind.I storm past the sentries until my gaze finds the soldier who called.
“The bolts have been melted away, sir.”
The edges of my vision blur.Halos of light swim before my eyes.I rub the tension away.“The aqueducts,” I mumble.
Clever, Kael.
“You!”I point to the nearest guard.“Dispose of the man who thought it wise to slack on his duties.I’m a man of my word, am I not?”
The guard nods, then makes his way back out of the storehouse.
“Prepare to descend,” I rasp.The men groan but obey.
I grip the rim of the hatch.The metal is slick with condensation, cold enough to pierce.I stare into the depths as my mind becomes a house collapsing in on itself—a slow, inevitable crumble the longer I remain from the light.
Go, faithful one.Uri’s ghost whispers.Deliver her, and we will ascend together.
I close my eyes against the dizziness and step down into the black.
The Light follows me, trembling.
46
KAEL
The tunnels open into something vast.
For days we have moved through tunnels slick with fungus, breathing the reek of stagnant water and salt.And my body is waning.
Solan’s flame, which usually rages in my chest, has become a mere sputter; a weak, blue guttering flame struggling against a gathering draft.The longer I stay away from his brilliance, the quicker the wellspring becomes a stagnant pool.And the more my wrist burns.
I reach into my pocket for my crystal, desperate for its warmth.But my fingers find only lint and empty space.
Sun take me.It must have fallen out in the sluice.
My chest tightens, a vice-like grip squeezing the air from my lungs.A crazed hammering starts against my ribs—a trapped bird desperate for escape.I pause, clutching my tunic to feel for the furnace within.There is only an ember, dying at the edges.
Keep calm.It’s fine.What happened in the Hollow all those years ago, won’t happen again.The taste of copper, the way my veins went cold, the week I couldn’t strike a spark no matter how hard I prayed.I force a single command to my lungs:Breathe.
If I cannot use Solan’s light, I must find another way.
