Whispers of Nowhere

Chapter Eighteen

One minute, Gwen had been clinging to Phenex for dear life, knowing only the whistling of the wind in her ears and the scent of leather. The next, she'd been swept up bridal-style, frantically grasping at the lapels of Forneus's coat. Even with his murmured assurances that he wouldn't drop her, Gwen couldn't seem to slow her racing heart. The disorientation of not only being teleported, but of having switched hands in the process was making her light-headed.

Forcing her eyes open, she peered at the fire burning far below, surprised when she could feel the heat reaching her despite the distance. When she realized she and Forneus weren't moving, her gaze travelled past the guardian's boots to where the tail of his coat whipped out behind him—her breath catching in her throat when she saw that he was literally standing on air. Gwen buried her face against his chest, releasing a groan as she did. No sooner had she done so when a familiar pulse began at the back of her head, Gwen stiffening as it radiated down her neck, causing her skin to erupt in gooseflesh.

It's close. Much closer than before.

"What's wrong?" Forneus's voice rumbled where Gwen's forehead met his chest. "Is it the artifact?"

Gwen nodded, not trusting her voice to work. When her gaze landed on the tall, black turret ridged with spikes far to their left, she tentatively released her hold on Forneus's coat, and hand shaking, pointed toward it. Forneus required no further prompting. Murmuring a quick warning for her to hold on tight, he teleported, Gwen gritting her teeth and closing her eyes as her stomach gave a sickening twist in response.

As they landed at the turret's base, it occurred to Gwen just how fortunate they were that Phenex had provided a feint against Reeves' forces when he did. With all of the monsters down below, the tower itself was completely unguarded.

The other towers too, by the looks of things, she noted with a glance.

That's when she caught a flicker of movement just beyond St. Vitus Cathedral. Three dark shapes flew just below the cloud line—and they were coming straight for the tower. As they got closer, each beat of their wings like a tarp snapping in the wind, Gwen recognized them. The armoured muzzles, the leathery wings, the four almond-shaped eyes—two on each side—flashing scarlet...

Wyvern.

"We've got trouble."

Forneus glanced over his shoulder, following Gwen's line of sight. "So it would seem."

"What should we do?" She could feel the panic beginning to swell in her chest, fear choking off her ability to think straight.

"Get the artifact," said Forneus, waiting for her to gain purchase on the turret before stepping away. "I'll hold them off."

There wasn't time to protest. Forneus was gone in an instant, vanishing into thin air. Gwen grabbed hold of the spines nearest to her, almost hugging the roof in her desperation. With her fear came the disorienting sense of vertigo, icy dread pooling in the pit of her stomach.

Don't look down. If you look down, you'll fall.

Taking a steadying breath, she opened her eyes, relieved when her gaze fell on the turret's shingles. As long as she kept her eyes on the roof, maybe she'd be able to edge her way to the other side and get the artifact. It was with this thought that the knot in her stomach began to subside, becoming nothing more than a quiver of unease.

Before she could work up the nerve to move, there came a sudden flash to her right, followed by the sounds of a scuffle. Carefully, she turned her head, making sure to keep her gaze level. Forneus was grappling with one of the wyvern in midair. Bolts of lightning rained down in front of the other two, keeping them at bay. Whenever it seemed they were getting too close, Forneus would teleport, reappearing so quickly Gwen could scarcely follow his movements. All she could see was an indistinct, indigo blur, and then the aftermath. A flash of fire, the ring of steel, blood spraying through the air amid an explosion of light...