The Cryptic’s death throes had sent it crashing into the stony hillside, bringing down a rockslide that had completely covered the entrance.
And there was no sign of Luc.
“No,” Rolan choked out. “No nono!”
He stumbled and crawled his way back to the cave, pulling at the boulders. But there was no chance of budging them. No chance of freeing his master.
“I—I’ll go back to the city,” he stammered. “Get help…”
But he knew it was useless. Who would come to save the Arcanist? Likely the people would throw a celebration. They were finally rid of the monster who stole all their secrets.
Even if Rolan did find someone to help—the duke, perhaps, could send his guards—they’d be too late. He’d seen the wounds on Luc’s chest. Even if they weren’t infected with Cryptic venom, they’d be enough to kill the Arcanist within hours. And that wasn’t counting any new wounds he’d taken bringing down the Cryptic and getting caught in the rockslide.
He could already be dead.
“No,”Rolan snarled. “It was my fault the Cryptic found him! I have to get him out!”
He looked around, inhaling sharply when he spotted the telltale blue glow.
Pouncing on the relic, he whispered a prayer of thanks to the goddess of truth that it hadn’t been buried under the rockslide. The relics he’d brought with him had all been lost, likely in his mad escape to the outside.
But where the big Cryptic had been Luc’s doom, maybe it could also be his salvation.
Placing the relic—a claw the length of his forearm—on a rock, Rolan took out his dagger and drove its point through. The claw cracked, bleeding blue smoke, then vanished. Blinding blue cords of Arcana wove into the steel, making it burn as bright as iron-forged metal. Rolan had to look away, his eyes watering.
Then he breathed in, pulling Arcana through the steel and into his arm.
The strength of that energy sent him reeling, to smack flat on his back. He lay spread eagle for a few moments, sucking for air that did not come. His entire being glowed blue, Arcana sinking into his organs, wrapping around his bones, infusing his brain.
Then, finally, his lungs inflated and he gasped.
The dark forest went from night to day as his sight transformed into that of a nocturnal predator. The pain in his knee vanished. He sat up, his skin tingling, faint blue wisps trailing from his skin as he moved.
He needed to work fast. He had no idea how long the Arcana would last, and he had no more relics to use after this one ran out.
He’d only get one shot at saving Luc’s life.
Gripping the first boulder with both hands, he heaved.
It was heavy, but not nearly as heavy as it had been before. He managed to roll it aside, his veins standing out in bright blue lines. If he had a mirror handy, he knew he’d see his own eyes shining with that same light, like he’d seen Luc’s eyes glow before.
Setting his jaw, Rolan moved to the next boulder.
Stone by stone, he worked through the pile, shifting rocks bigger than wagons as if they were pebbles. He’dneverexperienced power like this before. The relics from the young Cryptics were jokes compared to this. The strength of a sparrow compared to the strength of a bull.
He heaved the last rocks aside, feeling no signs that his strength was flagging, and gave a shout of triumph.
“Luc! Luc, can you hear me?”
The cave didn’t look nearly so dark now with his Arcanic vision. He walked inside, his own blue glow illuminating the walls.
“Rolan?”
Without his enhanced hearing Rolan might not have heard the Arcanist’s voice at all. It was less than a whisper, a slight stirring of breath.
Rolan turned and saw Luc slumped on the ground.
“Oh, my boy,” Luc sighed, taking in Rolan’s illuminated form and brightly lit eyes. “What have you done?”
