Daggers of Ice

Chapter 26

The Western Mountains.

Corradyn.

Corradyn snarled as another explosion vibrated through the ground. The fools, he'd ordered them distinctly not to touch the liquid fire.

Lilyn and the dryad knelt before him, unaffected by the tremors that shook the castle.

Waiting for his orders.

They had escaped.

Against all reason, without any source of water to sustain her, Arianna of Charn had escaped his dungeon.

He looked across at the young woman who'd led his army in his stead, when he'd been in the deep slumber, who had worked closely with Lilyn to make sure his memory had not been forgotten. She could have, perhaps, been related to Arianna of Charn, for they had the same small heart-shaped faces, delicate and wide eyes. But where Arianna's face was one of calm indifference, but hers was one of wretched displeasure, her blood-red lips curled back in a snarl, her crimson eyes narrowed dangerously.

"My dear, will you not go see what it the matter?"

Medusyll turned her eyes to him, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Of course, my lord."

Her lust for blood was typical of any of her kind.

"The witch has escaped with the human," Lilyn hissed at his side.

He watched as the woman's tail disappeared out the door, crimson scales flickering in the darting candlelight. "I know...I can feel her." He looked to the dryad. "Dryad. Follow her, and report back."

...

Arianna.

Arianna landed, rolling into a crouch, her borrowed sword held before her as she ran. She could not pause to catch her breath as another shadow swooped over her, the heat of the fire unbearable as another explosion rocked the castle. They would not see her; the very roof she stood upon was ablaze, the smoke creating a thick black blanket of cover.

But it did not protect her from the thing that stalked her; its fangs dripping with saliva and blood in a face that had once been beautiful. The flames licked at her as she crouched behind the stone which had landed on the roof. From where, Arianna could not guess.

The smoke surrounded her. She felt it creeping into her lungs like a sickness. She had seen those who had been caught in a fire. More often than not it had been the smoke that killed them, not the flames. Her eyes and throat were burning, she did not cough for fear she would give herself away.

But she pressed her back to the chunk of dark marble, ignoring the cuts that covered her body, ignoring the painful sting of the smoke in her eyes. She hoped to any god that listened that the creature could not hear her breathing or the heavy thudding of her heart. She watched as another droplet of thick blood fell from her sword.

A horrible screech filled the air.

Drawing herself upright Arianna ran once more, the smoke that surrounded her stinging her eyes. Another leap, another roll, and she was running again. The muscles in her legs burnt, sweat poured down her face. She tried to block out the screaming from the street below, she could not look down, but she could picture the burning people easily enough, taken by the fire their master so perfectly controlled. She could almost imagine his enraged face when he realised they had escaped.

She hoped fervently that Edmund had made it out of the castle – for they had been separated at the top of the stairs.

But the explosions told her he had at least made it to the courtyard, where Corradyn stored the barrels of liquid fire that she had seen upon her arrival – a substance that exploded upon exposure to naked flame.