Curse Breaker (2)

43

Thunder claps in the sky. The mountains shift beneath us, a jerky movement that sends Elora and I in different directions. I skid onto my back, the gravel of the crater digging in even through my thick coat.

A wicked wind picks up, the rumbling of the thunder drowning out all sound. I glance behind me, vision blurring, but it's too dark. A thick cloud covers the light of the moon, crawling through the mountain peaks. Dread knots in my stomach. The wind. The thunder. The fog.

It's coming.

A war cry echoes through the mountains, first one voice, later joined by what sounds to be multiple. Pounding steps follow.

Elora's soldiers.

Somewhere in the dark, amongst the cries, my name echoes off the mountains. It could be Casimir, or even Killian. But I can't tell with the wind. Excruciating pain still pulses through my body like currents of lightning but I don't dare respond. If I can't see them, they can't see me. I won't risk giving my position away.

I scramble to my feet, muscles aching in protest. The darkness disorientates me. A couple feet away, something on the ground begins to glow. The hyacerite. The small light it provides as it exudes a violet warmth is enough to highlight the figure lying on the ground across from me.

Elora pushes to her elbows, dazed. From her fall, a small cut marks her cheek. She looks up at me, then at the hyacerite.

I can't let her have it.

I lunge towards it the same time she does. She's faster, but I'm already on my feet. Snatching it away from her, I duck beneath her arm, tucking the rock into my coat to conceal the glow and stumbling away. Elora cries out after me as I sprint into the darkness, blind in any direction.

The hyacerite does not burn any longer.

The footsteps pound closer. A guttural scream follows. A shout from the other side. Metal against metal, grunting, shouting. A battle breaks out in the darkness, covering any noise my ragged breath makes as I stumble through, steering clear of the sounds.

"Frey!" Casimir. "Frey! The cave!"

Left or right, I can't tell where his voice comes from but I halt. Looking towards the dip in the mountains, my stomach drops. Any light from the moon is entirely concealed. The cloud is coming. I twist around, breath ragged, in search of the cave opening. Casimir knows where to go, how to avoid being caught. He's right. The cave is our only shot if the cloud rolls through.

We need shelter.

And yet, as I turn in the direction of the cave, not entirely sure of its placement, I hesitate. Killian and Juem are still out there somewhere, chained to a pole.

"Frey!" His voice is closer now, hinting the cave is too, but I stay frozen on the spot, my mind reeling with options.

The weather rages on, growing stronger with each second. The ground remains steady, but a sleet starts to spit sideways, slicing each inch of exposed skin. I remember the first time I got caught in the cloud, in Veymaw. The weather had raged in the streets, destroying everything in its path. But in the forest where the cloud took hold of me, it was deadly calm.

There's still time.

I turn away from the cave and keep away from the battle. I scale the crater until it starts to curve, indicating the incline of its bowl. Scraping my memory, I can see Killian and Juem chained up where the crater dipped on the far side.

My heart hammers against my chest with each step I take. Wherever Casimir is, he can't be at the cave yet. Each step is excruciating, seconds feeling like hours as the sounds of battle close in. My eyes slowly adjust to the dark, making out dark shapes and figures lunging across the crater, falling to the earth.