Page 96 of The Stolen Throne
“Your dominion is trying to kill me.”
He makes a sound that might be a scoff or maybe a laugh. “I felt the same way about yours.”
That’s the closest I’ve heard to humor from him—at something I said, at least—in a while, and that pokes at the open wound that is us. I can’t bear to look at him, so I watch Horus. “No one should die for me.”
I don’t realize I said that out loud until Reven says in a voice gone harshly gruff, “Yes…they should.”
What?
I whip my head around to stare at him, but his face gives nothing away. “Bene’s here.”
I get what he’s saying. Time to make a portal…if I can.
42
The Queen’s Tower
“Holy hells, I can’t believe you did it,” Pella mumbles from behind me.
Holy hells, I can’t believe I did, either. I made a portal. All it took was five failed attempts first.
The thing isn’t pretty, but it’s better than the first one I made in the Shadowood. A little less thick, although, like that previous attempt, it still looks like a waterfall frozen in time, weeping downward. Fewer bubbles and cracks, at least.
Progress.
I did it on my own, even, given that my amulet is still cold and silent under my clothes. The block of glass I made from sand Bene discarded is thick and rectangular so it can stand on its own. It’s not perfect, that’s for sure, with bubbles and one side higher than the other, but it hasn’t shattered yet.
Maybe it’s like how it happened with the glass flowers I make. It just took more practice, and the goddess’s help before only hurried the process along a bit? Or maybe I needed incentive, and days of living in this frozen wasteland—plus avoiding both flying on Bene’s back and climbing that ladder—was all I needed.
“Nobody breathe on it or touch it.” Who knows how long it’ll hold together? The sooner we’re through, the better. “Bene,” I say over my shoulder. “Better shrink the rest of the way down for this. Let’s be quick.”
“Cain, can you walk with help?” Vos asks.
Cain squirms against the bonds holding him safely to the pallet. “Get me out of this thing, and let’s find out.”
While Pella and Tziah do that, Bene shrinks back down to his smallest raven size and shape, leaving a pile of sand beside Vos’s half-finished shelter. The others gather the bags of gear.
“Ready?” I get a bunch of nods, including one from a green-looking Cain propped up between Pella and Horus. “Right.” I face my creation. “Prayers probably aren’t a bad idea.”
I send my own to the goddess so close to me. Please let this work.
I pull off my thick gloves and, hands glowing and skin buzzing with power, place my palm against the glass I made.
It does nothing except reflect a dim version of my yellow light out the back side.
“Come on,” I mutter under my breath. Okay, I plead.
I picture in my mind the portal and the room we want to go to. I concentrate so hard my eyes start to ache with it.
“Meren?” Vos comes up beside me. “Don’t exhaust yourself. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t.”
“Not helping.”
He holds up both hands but doesn’t say more.
I am forcibly willing my power into the glass block. “Come on, damn it. Just a little help—”
Suddenly, there’s a ripple. Instead of changing all at once, first the center goes opaque. That spreads out gradually to the corners. Then the center turns clear, and that moves out to the corners, too, until, finally, it’s showing us a room on the other side.
