“This is the entrance to the baetyl.”
We’d made it? We’d survived Reaper’s Ridge? Relief swamped me, followed by a wave of nausea as I realized that deep down, I hadn’t expected to make it. I bent in half, taking deep breaths until my innards settled back in place.
When I was sure my shaking legs would hold me up, I fumbled around the sled to look at the entrance. Cut into the steep hillside and shadowed by a rocky overhang, the crooked opening was no wider than my outstretched arms and thoroughly unimpressive. I would have walked right past it without noticing if Celeste hadn’t pointed it out.
“This is it? It’s so . . . accessible. Anyone could walk right in.” All gargoyles had wings. Why wasn’t the entrance somewhere only they could reach?
“Normally, humans wouldn’t be able to get this close. Thank you.” The last was for Marcus, who had lowered anchors on the sled to take the burden from Celeste.
Summoning my energy, I jogged up the incline. A ledge of unnaturally flat ground lay in front of the opening, and the rest of the hill above us was too steep to traverse. The baetyl entrance itself was nothing to look at, but when I turned around, the view took my breath. Reaper’s Ridge fell away beneath us, ravaged and misshapen, giving way to a view of the lush rolling foothills and the valley farther away. If I had wings, it would have been easy to launch into the sky.
Oliver landed next to me and peered inside the dark opening. His ruff flattened and he backed up so quickly he tripped over his hind legs and crashed to his side.
“Oliver!” I reached for him, but he’d already scrambled to his feet. Turning, he barreled into me, knocking me to the side of the entrance and pinning me against the slope.
“Something’s coming! Something big!” he cried.
I sprawled against the rock slope, trying to catch my footing. Before I found my voice to ask what he meant—nothing big would fit through the opening—Marcus sprinted to the opposite side of the entrance, tossing the null traps into the cave. Using a spear of earth magic to drill a hole, he plunged the battered anchor rod into the rock in front of the cave.
“Celeste, to me,” he ordered. He flattened himself against the rock face across the baetyl opening from me. “Storm or beast?” he demanded.
“Storm,” Oliver said, releasing me. I staggered at my sudden freedom and braced a hand on the hill to steady myself.
“I can feel the energy building,” Celeste said.
“Do we have time to move the sled?” Marcus asked.
As if in answer, the ridge shook, raining pebbles onto our heads. Beneath my hand, the rock heated and reshaped. Fear flooded me with a burst of energy and I scrambled back, Oliver at my side. When I reached for the elements, his boost was already there, waiting for me.
Marcus threw a five-element ward across the opening, anchoring it into the rod and tying it off.
“Ready?” he asked. Anticipation tightened his features and lit his eyes.
“I hope so.”
Wild magic burst through the ward, tearing it to shreds and shattering the rod. The concussion knocked me to my butt and robbed me of my hearing. Marcus caught himself on a knee and stayed there, ripping into the magic as it emerged. It swelled from the baetyl to fill the sky, endless writhing bands of destructive raw elements building into a deadly monstrosity.
In a stomach-dropping rush, it dove back to the earth and swallowed us.
9
The earth pitched beneath me, and I rolled to the right, narrowly avoiding being swallowed by the shifting ground. Without rising, I slashed through twists of earth and wood, destroying the elements nearest me. The hillside stabilized, but I couldn’t catch my breath; fire and water rolled in a tight mass of lung-scalding steam. Lashing out, I cut the loose coils of writhing fire. A deluge of water spilled from the storm, soaking me, and I sucked in cool oxygen.
The storm dwarfed all we’d encountered along the way. It wasn’t two or three elements but all five bunched together, creating mayhem. The violent magic wouldn’t boost the gargoyles until we could unravel it, and in the meantime, it ricocheted between them, knocking their frozen bodies into each other. I struggled to rise and protect them, but layers of wild magic pinned me to the hillside.
Rocks surged and grew behind me, burying Oliver in a pile of sand and stones. Frantic, I snapped a dozen strands of earth where they touched the ground around him, and he burst free, shaking grit into the air. A spear of wood element lanced from the storm as if aiming for me. I lurched to the side, narrowly evading the wild magic. It plowed into the soil, sprouting a two-foot sapling in a spray of rocks and dirt. Shielding my eyes with a hand, I burned through the tangle of wood before it could bury the ledge in a new forest, then rolled back to Oliver’s side. His eyes were as wide as an owl’s and he trembled as he curled around me.
Seeing his fear cut through my own panic. He was depending on me for protection. If I continued to react instead of attack, we wouldn’t survive. I needed to think like a guardian.
“I’ll keep us safe,” I promised. “Stay close.”