Not another quake.
“Contain her!” Soren shouts. “Before she brings this whole island down!”
“Trying!” Vaughn yells back, panting from the effort. “She’s incredibly strong!”
Her powers must be manifesting as brute physical strength.Enough to set off tremors that shake the realm at its seams. Enough to rattle the snows of the Cimmerians from half a continent away.
Even Vaughn, in his limitless Titan strength, is struggling to hold on to the girl. She fights like a wild thing against his grip, kicking and thrashing, snapping her teeth and scoring her fingernails deep into the flesh of his forearms.
“It’s like holding on to a bloody rockslide,” he hisses. His muscles flex under the immense strain of it. But for all her efforts, she cannot quite manage to escape him. He begins to march forward, ignoring the bloody scratches that mar his skin, paying no heed to the growls that promise retribution as soon as she gets the opportunity.
“If she’s this strong down here, what will she be like on the surface?” I ask Soren as we hurry in their wake, my boots picking a careful path across the vibrating earthen floor.
His eyes cut to mine. “Let us hope we live long enough to find out.”
For a briefmoment, I dare to hope we will make it out alive. Back to the ship, back to our lives. I dare to believe that this half-baked plan of ours will actually be a success.
Until we catch up to Alaric, Arwen, and Harpina.
They’ve stopped at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the tower. Arwen is on her feet, though leaning heavily against her husband’s side. She has one of Harpina’s throwing stars gripped tight in her hand, gleaming silver in the flickering light of a torch. All three of them stare in silence at the pile of rubble that blocks our way forward.
“Must’ve collapsed in the quake,” Soren says grimly. “We’ll have to find another way up to the ramparts.”
I inhale deeply, trying not to succumb to panic at the thought of being trapped down here forever. My throat feels uncomfortably tight.
Vaughn grunts, but does not otherwise chime in. He is preoccupied holding on to the Earth Remnant, who, while no longer actively clawing at his arms, is clearly still exerting her significant strength in an ongoing attempt to shake herself free of his grip. The frustration that contorts her expression is a mirror of that on Vaughn’s face as their battle of wills drags on without a victor.
Quite the match, they make.
“We should fan out,” Soren says. “Search for—”
“Over here,” a melodic voice interrupts him. “There’s a passage and a set of steps.”
Melité.
I’d forgotten she was with us in the chaos of the past few moments. But there she is, hips swaying as she sidles out of the shadows. There’s a serene smile on her face.
“Follow me,” she murmurs, turning on a heel.
Soren and I trade a glance but say nothing. There is no other choice. Time is running short. If we stall down here any longer, we will be stranded when the tide sweeps back in and washes our escape options out to sea.
The staircase is narrow and dark, no torches to light our ascent. We make our way up steadily, Vaughn on our heels, his constant curses and grunts chasing us the entire journey. Just ahead, I can hear the hoarse metronome of Arwen’s shallow breaths. And beyond, Melité’s fluid tones, floating back to us from the top.
“Not much farther now.”
I had thought my trepidation already at its apex in the dungeons, but it vaults to new levels as we step out of the stairwelland into the prison’s inner courtyard. It is cast in shadow by the black stone walls that tower all around us. Against the dark sky, the illuminated guard towers cut a menacing silhouette.
Have Penn and the others already cleared all four?
If not, we will soon be spotted. There is nowhere to hide. Not even a tree to duck behind for cover. Just an expanse of flagstones and unyielding mortar. About forty paces from where we stand, I spot a set of switchback steps along the interior wall, leading up to the ramparts.
“There,” I say, voice hushed as I point them out. “Our exit.”
We’ve scarcely made it three strides when Melité speaks again, halting our progression. “Oh, no. We won’t be leaving so soon.” A sinew of amusement runs through her serpentine tone. As though she is laughing at a joke we are not privy to. “Not until the family reunion is complete.”
On my left, Soren stills. On my right, Vaughn does the same. Even the girl in his arms stops writhing, momentarily silenced by the half-siren’s words.
A chill skitters down my spine.