“You can. It caught you off guard before. You know what to expect now.”
“Hadrian, if I go too far—” She tried to imagine and realized she did not want to. There was an excitement in the thought of the power, a thrill like standing on the edge of a cliff, or playing with a sharp knife; the exhilaration came from the risk, the very real fear that she could step too far. It lured her like the still beauty of a deep lake. Even as she spoke about it, she remembered how it felt, the desire, the hunger. It called to her. “If I reach beyond—if I go too far—I might not come back.” She looked at Hadrian. “I’m scared what would happen. I don’t think I would be human anymore. I’d be lost forever.”
He took her hands. Until he touched her, she had not realized she was shaking. His hands felt warm, strong. “You can do it,” he told her firmly. He stared into her eyes and she could not help looking back. There was peace there, a gentle understanding familiar to her now, comforting, reassuring.
How does he do it?
Her hands stopped shaking.
An arrow whizzed through Mauvin’s window, just missing him. It streaked a thick dark smoke that stank of sulfur. It flew to the far wall and bounced off the stone, continuing to smolder and burn. Two more managed to find their way into the narrow slits while outside it sounded as if it were raining. Then a line of smoke began to leak in through the cracks of the door.
“You have to try,” Hadrian told her.
She nodded. “But I want you with me. Don’t leave me… no matter what happens.”
“I swear I will not leave you.” His voice and the look in his eyes were so sincere, so resolute.
Degan began to cough, and Mauvin and Alric climbed down from the stairs.
“Everyone gather,” she told them in a soft voice, trying to keep her eyes on Hadrian. “I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen. Just try and stay as close as you can, and don’t you let go of me, Hadrian.”
CHAPTER 18
DUST AND STONE
The smoke was growing thick and it was becoming hard to breathe as Arista remained standing still, muttering, her eyes closed, her hands twitching.
“Is she going to do something?” Gaunt asked, and followed this with a series of coughs.
“Give her a second,” Hadrian told him.
As if in response, a light breeze moved within the room. Where it came from Hadrian could not tell, but it moved around the chamber, swirling and stealing away the smoke. The wind grew stronger and soon it ruffled the edges of their cloaks, slapping their hoods and spinning the dust into little whirlwinds that twirled, dancing about. All at once, the flames in the lanterns went out and the wind stopped. Everything was deathly still for a heartbeat.
Then the front wall of the guildhall exploded.
Arista’s robe flared brilliantly as from beyond the missing wall, Hadrian heard the cries of goblins, like a million squealing rats. The square cast in darkness for a thousand years lay revealed, illuminated as if the sun had returned to the Grand Mar. They could finally see the beauty that once had been, the city of Novron, the city of Percepliquis, the city of light.
“Gather your things,” Arista shouted, opening her eyes, but Hadrian could tell she was not fully with them. She was breathing deep and slow, her eyes never focusing, as if blind to what was around her. She was not seeing with her eyes anymore.
Mauvin and Alric hoisted Gaunt between them. He grunted but said nothing as he hopped on his good leg.
“Come,” she told them, and began to walk toward the collapsed pile that had once been a palace.
“You’re doing great,” Hadrian told her. She showed no sign of hearing him.
The goblins stayed back. Whether they retreated from the explosion of stone, the harsh light, or some invisible sorcery that Arista was manifesting, all Hadrian could tell was that they refused to approach.
The party walked as a group clustered around Arista.
“This is crazy,” Gaunt said, his voice quavering. “They’ll kill us.”
“Don’t leave the group,” Hadrian told them.
“They’re fitting arrows,” Mauvin announced.
“Stay together.”
Struggling to shield their eyes as they bent their bows, the Ghazel launched a barrage. All of the party flinched except Arista. A hundred dark shafts flew into the air, burst into flame, and vanished into streaks of smoke. More howls arose from the Ghazels’ ranks, but no more arrows flew, and now more than ever, the goblins showed no willingness to advance.
“Find the opening!” she shouted, sounding out of breath, her tone impatient, like someone holding up heavy furniture.
“Magnus, try and find the hollow corridor,” Hadrian barked.
“To the left, up there, a gap. No over farther—there!”
Royce was on it, throwing rocks back. “He’s right—there’s an opening here.”
“Of course I’m right!” Magnus shouted.