Page 125 of Sword & Shadow
The stone path would only admit their passage one by one. Ethenn took the initiative, following behind Ilain. Thom went next. Both men immediately braced themselves as the fog swirled around them, curling around their forms as thoughseeking to wrap them in its arms. Rafferty and Evylin went next while Deckard stepped in last. The mist clung to the bridge, instantly coating them with a thin layer of dampness. A biting wind nipped at their faces.
Deckard looked down to ensure his footing, only to realize his mistake as his head spun. Free-floating on the bridge, his stomach revolted at the thought of falling for eternity. He trained his eyes on the horizon from then on.
The door shut with a reverberatingthunkbehind them, sealing them into the Keep. Slowly, they crept along. The wind rose, whistling in their ears. Then the hum of the Shades came, a gentlewhooshthat sent chills down Deckard’s spine.
“They’re coming,” Ilain called.
They all prepared their weapons—Auden and Ilain raised their hands, Deckard, Evylin, Thom, and Rafferty tightened their grips on their swords, and Ethenn nocked an arrow. Then a fierce rush of wind swept in, bringing the first onslaught of Shades with it.
The humanoid creatures burst from the clouds, magical streams of air holding their clay forms together. Their arms reached out to grapple the troop, the force of the gale causing them all to wobble on their feet. Evylin and Ethenn fared best, holding their footing with practiced agility. She swept her sword in an arc, catching a Shade square in the center of its chest. The hunter’s arrow managed to land on the very edge of another’s shoulder.
It was a horrible mistake.
The Shades’ clay bodies shattered, and a giant blast of air whipped out. Both Evylin and Ethenn lost their footing then. She was knocked back, her heels hanging over the edge of the bridge as she fought to maintain her balance. Deckard’s heart lurched, and his hand shot out. He caught her arm, pulling her to hischest and safety. His pulse spiked as he held her against him, a tingle of magic spreading across his skin.
Ethenn wasn’t so lucky. He pitched backward, arrows spilling out of the quiver at his back.
Ilain let out a cry of alarm, then thrust her hand forward. The young man froze in midair, his chest pumping furiously. But there were still Shades swirling around them, reaching and grabbing, trying to pull them from the path. Killing them was as ineffective as ignoring them, their deaths sending forth those frightful blasts of wind.
While Ilain used Wind to settle Ethenn back on the stone bridge, the rest of them fought off groups of Shades, clinging to one another as they fought to stay in place.
“Ilain,” Thom called when he nearly lost his footing after Auden killed another Shade with a flare of Day magic, “can’t you keep them away from us?”
Assured that Ethenn was safe, Ilain gritted her teeth and threw her arms up to the sky. A squall of upward wind knocked the Shades into oblivion. The roar of it all filled Deckard’s head like he was trapped underwater.
Freed from the onslaught of Shades, they relaxed for a mere second before bolting down the path.
“I can’t do that again,” Ilain warned. “So you’d all best be at peak performance if you want to make it out of here.”
“I thought you had a special relationship with Wind,” Thom sassed.
“I do!” she yelled back at him. “But killing a Guardian takes more power and focus than you could ever imagine. In order to retain enough energy to get us out of here, I need to conserve as much now as possible.”
Another gust ripped through, bringing more Shades.
“Stay low,” Evylin called.
They all listened, crouching and widening their stance as they defended. Centering their gravity helped to keep them on the path, but it hampered their progress on the bridge. They could defend their onward march this way, Deckard knew, but eventually, they would tire. They still had to get to the Chamber, defeat the Guardian, and return through the Keep with the Relic in tow. Ilain was right; they had to conserve their energy.
A Shade swept in, its arms latching onto Rafferty. It carried him over the side of the bridge, his feet dangling. Evylin caught his arm, but the Shade’s force took her with them.
Deckard dived forward. His arm slipped around her waist, keeping her on the path as Rafferty hung over the side. The weasel let his short swords fall into the never-ending fog around them to clasp onto Evylin, his light gray eyes panicked. A blast of wind from another downed Shade whipped around them. Evylin’s feet were barely on the path, giving them very little leverage as Rafferty clung to her. She still held the Night sword in one hand, unwilling to let the Relic go.
Deckard fought to maintain his footing as their weight drew them an inch closer to the edge.
“I’m slipping!” Rafferty cried, his hand sliding down Evylin’s arm.
The rest of the team was too embroiled in their own battles to assist as more and more torrents of wind whirled around them. Shades flew by, tearing at them, trying to drag them over the side.
Carefully, Deckard let his sword clatter to the bridge. He reached around Evylin, grabbing Rafferty’s arm. “We’ve got to pull him up,” he told her, doing his best to ignore the way his body lit up with her closeness.
“I’m aware of that,” Evylin called back. “How do you propose—?” A Shade jerked at her arms, and Deckard released Raffertyto slam his tricep into the Shade’s head. Evylin cursed as Rafferty slipped farther out of her grasp.
“Lean back,” Deckard ordered, setting his feet. Her back pressed into his chest as she did as instructed, placing all her weight on him. With slow, careful steps, he drew them farther onto the path. His muscles ached from the strain. Their weight and strength gave them just enough leverage to pull Rafferty high enough to hoist himself onto the bridge.
Huffing from the exertion, Deckard released his hold on Evylin. A small gap had formed between them and the others. Shades rushed to fill the space around them. Evylin swung her amethyst blade, catching two, while Deckard took his sword back up, joining her defense. With his short swords lost, Rafferty cautiously used his throwing knives, ensuring his aim before losing what precious little weaponry he had left.
Once they’d cleared their way, Evylin pulled her broadsword from the scabbard belted to her waist. “Here,” she said to Rafferty. “Don’t lose it.”
