The Challenge

Chapter 5

The sun was low in the sky, but Gwyn hadn't made her reappearance. Az had been waiting and watching for her. But she was nowhere to be found. He had run into Nesta still looking slightly sweaty from her climb back up the stairs. She had pointedly ignored him when they passed in the hall. But she had been alone.

Az kept looking over his shoulder, waiting for Gwyn to appear full of fire and fury. Every soft sound had his head snapping up, thinking it was her. Every movement he caught out of the corner of his eye had his pulse quickening. But still Gwyn didn't come for him - come to him. And that made him... well, sad wasn't the right word, nor was disappointed. Az couldn't quite put his finger on what he was feeling; all he knew was that something was not right.

Singer! Singer! SINGER!

His shadows whipped themselves into a feverish flurry; swarming him - nearly overwhelming him. They seemed to alternately push and pull at him. Az was hearing many things at the same time, but none stood out. Messages layered upon messages until nothing stood out. The cacophony only grew as he tried to make sense of it, as though his shadows were frustrated by his lack of response. If only Azriel knew what they wanted.

Enough!

The noise dissipated in the wake of his outburst.

Now, tell me what is going on. The discord started again so he added, One of you.

It's your Valkyrie! Quickly, Singer. Hurry!

Az didn't hesitate. He followed a shadow down the hall, racing after it as it sped toward Gwyn and whatever trouble she was in. For she was in trouble - he could feel it in the very marrow of his bones.

The shadow disappeared into the empty room next to his, using the crack beneath the door. Az threw the door open and paused on the threshold. His keen eyes scanned the space, looking for any sign of Gwyn. But there was none to be found.

Here, Singer. Here!

The shadow that had led the way was now over by the double glass doors that led to a small balcony which looked out over the city. Az crossed quickly to the other side of the room and, opening the doors, stuck his head outside. He didn't know what he thought he might find, but in his gut, he knew it wasn't going to be good. There, along a small piece of stone sticking out from the wall, too thin to properly be called a ledge, was Gwyneth Berdara balanced on the very tips of her toes.

"Gwyn." Az said her name in a whisper as he paled.

She clung to the wall, her fingers tightly gripping the stone against the near-violent up-drafts of wind that buffeted her. Her gaze was fixed on a spot to her right, as though gaging the distance.

"Gwyn." Az said her name again, this time a little louder. The wind ripped it from his lips, but she must have heard him, because he saw her stiffen. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm breaking into your room." She called this over her shoulder without turning around.

Gwyn reached out her hand for a groove in the stone wall. Testing her hold, he carefully lifted her foot and stretched it toward what he could only assume was another ledge. It certainly didn't look like one to him. Her boot slipped off the edge of the stone and Az nearly fell. His knees wobbled and threatened to give out, but Gwyn recovered her balance effortlessly.

"Gwyn." His voice threatened to break on her name. "Take my hand and come back to the balcony."

"No."

He wanted to roar. He wanted to scream in frustration, to rage against her foolishness and stubbornness. But he was afraid that if he did that he might startle her, Gwyn would slip off the wall.