Journey onto the Storm (BOOK 2)

Chapter 52

ADARA

A strangled, birdlike shriek pierced the air.

"Let me go!" she snapped against her captor's arms, but they held her in a deceptive vice-grip, pushing, tugging. Yuven and Fenrer needed her. Mist cascaded over the cliffs when a spark of explosions rocked the ground beneath her feet. Her captor stopped with a huff behind the mask, but when she tried to kick out his knees, he steadied her with a grunt in a cold song.

"Master Mazril."

Adara thrashed when they turned her to face the voice. Blackwall. Silver fury burst at her fingertips, but a sleeve stifled her sob when they returned the white twine around her wrists. Embers crackled at the edges, then died from the oppression in the air. "Keeper," Master Mazril growled. "We need to get out of here quick before we raise alarm." His accent had none of Yuven's melody within it, and she wriggled when he hauled her closer to Blackwall. "You are going to get that portal up, yes?"

"It takes some time to search our previous path," Blackwall pointed out.

"Why are you doing this?" she begged.

Blackwall finally acknowledged her with a blink. "Do you remember what I told you at the Summit, Miss Sazaka?" he questioned, but before she could reply with her own bite, he continued, "I told you your magick is a beacon. In more ways than one. You will see once we have Yuven Traye and pass through the portal. Master Mazril, if you would." Blackwall indicated the shimmering air forming into a twisted, unclear circle. "We have the morn until the twilight path closes on us."

Other Iceshards that remained gathered in front of it, their hands on the girls of their hidden daggers. Her captor stopped, then twisted around to the misted cliffs. A question escaped his lips with a plume of smoke, though she struggled to decipher his words. Adara tried to elbow his ribs, but he scoffed and kept her arms behind her back and dragged her to the forming portal, where the Iceshards stayed at the sides to keep their gazes on her.

Mist fluttered.

Wings gleamed violet at the whisk of air through it.

A shape stumbled out of it, another Iceshard. "Massa'lan—"

Adara choked when a needle of ice burst through the front of their neck, to tear apart sinew and a stream of blood flowed out of their lips. Behind them, a different icy figure moved forward, dropping the Iceshard off their pinpoint sword and into a puddle of blood. Beads of violets rumbled with the hiss of a wyvern.

"Kehja... Trayes," Master Mazril grunted, then tossed her into another Iceshard's arms.

One Iceshard rushed for the violet-eyed mist. Adara found herself on her knees when the violet mist lunged at their attack. Wyvern teeth formed out of the mist when another squirt splattered the grass, and her heart slammed in her chest when Yuven Traye dragged himself out of the mist, tugging the Iceshard along as he went. Plumes of fire left his nose, a draconic rage in his eyes as he tossed their corpse to the ground. Feathers straight and fluffed out, he broke his needle sword in their throat, and let it melt into the blood.

Some of the Iceshards stared at Yuven Traye, though Master Mazril dragged out a gleaming blue sword. Yuven tugged out his seaxs, reinforced with sharp ice on the blade. Blackwall tucked his hands in his sleeves when Master Mazril glared at him, then faced down Yuven, and the Iceshards circled him.

"Yuven..." Adara winced when the Iceshard behind her dragged her to her feet.

Master Mazril readied his sword with a hiss through his nose.

Yuven's gaze scanned in one sweeping motion, then snapped when a couple of Iceshards took their advantage. In a graceful dance of a wyvern, golden glyphs followed his movements through the mist as he drove one seax into the chest of an Iceshard, who screeched and grasped at the hilt when Yuven sent his foot into it. Another duck, and Adara gasped when he tugged out a magnificent glaive made of ice to skewer them through the stomach.