I just hoped we had enough time. If the Trpaslíks were seeking us out, there was no guarantee that Ovailia wouldn’t already know of our arrival.
I could hear the heavy footfalls as our enemies closed in, their magic growing and flaring from all sides as they surrounded us. I clenched onto Ilyan’s hand, sure he felt it, too, just as we moved through the final ring of tents, breaking free of the horrifying labyrinth, to face hundreds of Trpaslíks who stood around the red and purple fire, waiting for us.
They all looked up at our arrival, wicked smiles illuminating their eyes with a maniacal light that seemed to scream of our death. I could tell by the way they licked their lips—the way their fingers crackled and pulsed with power—that they thought this would be a quick end to the man they had hunted for so long.
They were wrong.
I smiled at the looks on their faces, smiled because they thought they had the upper hand. I could see the canvas walls of the Vil?’s tent just beyond the crowd, the whole thing vibrating from the diseased creatures that had been restrained inside. That was where we needed to get to, the first major step in Ilyan’s plan. By the look of fury in the Trpaslíks’ eyes, though, they were going to make this harder than I would have liked.
My magic prickled as I pushed it away from me, my mind creating a map of the exact placement of every Trpaslík that surrounded us. The surge of their anger influenced my magic until it prickled under my skin. The power ran through me, the anger that Cail had infused me with finding an outlet, and I smiled, eager to begin.
My fingers sparked as I stepped in front of Ilyan, my hands spreading wide as I showed them the power that was waiting to escape, the magic that wanted to end this as much as I did.
The power continued to swell as I held it inside of me, the heat of my attack pressing against my skin, ready to explode. I saw the fear in the eyes of the Trpaslíks closest to us as their understanding peaked, yet it was too late.
My magic exploded in a rush of air and fire that spread away with the strength of a bomb. It burned through the fabric of the tents, and through the bodies of those who were closest to me. It washed over the entire camp as the smiles and jeers of a hopeful victory turned to yells and screams of agony and death.
Lines of men that had surrounded us fell, their screams evaporating into the air as their bodies hit the ground, never to rise again. The screams spread through the circle as the attack broadened, the sounds rippling away as more and more of them began to understand what was happening, the weak running away while the strong stepped forward, ready to face us.
To face me.
I was sure Ovailia had heard the screams, had seen the fire light the sky, and felt the residual waves of the attack. If she hadn’t been aware that we were coming for her already, she was now, and we hadn’t even blown the tent yet. Time was not on our side.
I only hoped Edmund had not arrived yet.
Get the tent, I ordered, hoping that Ilyan wouldn’t second guess a command given by me as I rushed away from him toward the survivors who were charging me, their battle cry loud in my ears.
Ilyan rushed through the remaining army as I did, his movements quick as he took to the air, flying toward the tent in a streak of gold. I wasted no time and ran into the fray, my magic pulsing as two Trpaslíks found their feet, their faces hard as they rushed me, their magic sparking in preparation to kill.
I smiled at them, my hand pressing away from my chest as I pushed with an aggressive wall of magic that picked them up and sent them high above the trees. Their flight was illuminated by the lightning that littered the sky.
I had no time to watch them or to bask in any success before my magic flared in alarm and I spun on the spot, a swipe of my hand sending a flame of red through the air, the act removing the hand of the Trpaslík who had stood behind me, his hand placed for a final blow. He screamed in agony as he dropped to his knees, the fire of my attack sealing the flesh of his now dismembered arm.
I left him screaming as I took two steps back, a stream of black soaring through the air I had just vacated. I turned toward the attacker and pressed my hands against him, the pressure of the air working against me as if it was a brick wall. I pushed against the pressure, my magic exploding as it worked past it, sending the tiny man away from me and into a tree that stood twenty feet away.
I turned and ran as the loud crack of breaking wood filled the clearing, my feet skidding against dead leaves as I worked to make it toward Ilyan. My feet pumped forward as I jumped over the lifeless bodies that surrounded me, only to be stopped by a pulse as strong as a jackhammer against my spine.
I screamed at the impact, my spine contorting into a weird angle as I fell to the ground, my muscles seizing and flaring as I pushed myself onto my back, desperate to find a way to escape the pain, to fight the Trpaslík with the blood-stained eyes who looked down on me.