Page 119 of The Stolen Throne
All we need to do now is get to the temple and the portal within.
We can all rest when we get back to the Queen’s Tower—
“Release the queen and the Shadowraith to me, and no harm will come to you.”
50
Run
The people around where we stand at the end of the lowered drawbridge scatter like sandrats abandoning a building on fire.
Standing before us is a soldier in Tyndran uniform, but black, rather than white. The insignia on his distinctive armor is that of a general. I recognize his gleaming bald head.
General Quinten.
I don’t dare a glance at Vos or Reven. With the general stand at least twenty soldiers, and by their faces, I know these are well-trained fighters. No doubt a few Imperium are among their ranks.
Quinten’s gaze travels over our ragtag little group, pausing on me, then Vos, before narrowing on Reven.
Vos doesn’t hesitate. His power snaps out from him with an audible crack, encasing the soldiers in ice the same way he did in the throne room, only this time, rather than just their feet, he’s trapped them in tombs of it.
My stars.
Pella grabs my arm, tugging me along as she backs us all up onto the bridge.
“That will only hold them for a few minutes,” Vos says. “Reven?”
Reven is barely standing. There’s no way he should use his power now. “He can’t—”
“He has to!”
Immediately, shadow reaches for me, but I jerk back—not like that should stop him, but it does. “Can you do this?”
He glances at the frozen soldiers. “I have no choice.”
Seven hells.
“Take the others first. I can help here.” I ignite the glow of my hands, pulling sand up from the bottom of the moat, sifting it through the loose mud and muck.
“Are you kidding me—” Pella’s protest is cut off mid-word when Reven grabs her and Horus and they’re gone in a puff of darkness.
A terrible noise, rhythmic and pulsing, clangs against the insides of my ears. The frozen ice sheathing the Tyndrans starts to vibrate. That’s the only warning we get before it explodes in a blast that sends shards everywhere, knocking us all to the ground.
Horus throws himself over me, grunting with the impact of the ice, then comes up firing his bow. One of Quinten’s soldiers goes down.
Vos throws out a wall of ice, but this time, that horrendous pulsing comes sooner. General Quinten, hands raised and lit with a sickly yellow glow, smirks. That sound is coming from him. He’s attacking Vos’s frozen defense as fast as it forms. If he can do that, my glass and sand won’t stand a chance.
On a nerve-rending shout, the soldiers run at us.
Like the lash of a whip, lightning almost blinds me as Hakan sends a bolt screaming past us across the bridge, hitting a soldier in the chest. It’s too bright to see what happens to that guy, but through my stupor, the strangest taste of metal coats my mouth, along with a burning scent in the air.
Reven reappears and immediately pitches forward and vomits.
“Take her,” Vos snaps, though he doesn’t look away from what he’s doing.
Shadow reaches for me, but just as fast, it fades, like dark mist burning away in the sun. Dawning horror breaks over Reven’s features a beat before a new darkness descends, covering the city in night.
Eidolon.
