Ronan: Night Wolves by Lisa Daniels (98)

Chapter Four – Geraline

Geraline's world blurred into the stairs that led up to the top floor.  Apparently, there used to be a kind of winch and platform in the Tower which had rusted and broken over time, or they might have taken that instead.  Now though, they needed to run up thousands of flights.  The werewolves would be bone tired, if they didn't drop unconscious from exhaustion.  They might have to take snap breaks, and with whatever the blasts was pursuing them at the moment, Geraline didn't exactly feel confident about the whole situation.

How in the moon were they getting out of this? If the entire bottom floor was a sinkhole of destruction? Just fling themselves off the Tower and hope Kell could catch them all? If she and Erlandur's little army weren't dead at this moment.

Halting her fear as best as able, she concentrated on the climb, and kept her eyes peeled for any hint of danger previously unseen.

What was the plan, here? Why did they need to enter this thing?

Sure, maybe they didn't have the numbers to take on the Shadows.  Or maybe they did.  But this – she saw no strategic purpose in it.  Not unless something amazing existed on the top level.  Like the leader of Shadows or some powerful artefact.  Nothing else made sense to Geraline.

When they finally advanced the last set of stairs after what felt like centuries later, and Geraline's other secret fears that they were ascending above the death zone of where they were able to breathe proved irrelevant for this, the remaining fragments of the expedition were greeted with incandescent light, a vast room with no corridors, no hiding spots to duck in, except for the pillars that helped support the structure – and what looked like a softly glowing stone in the middle, hosted on top of a podium and encased in a transparent box.

Geraline saw realization flood into Grace's eyes.

“No,” she said.  “I mean, I knew you must have been heading here.  But...  can you?”

Was this a powerful artefact? Stronger than the cursed queen's skull? Helena gave a determined scowl.  “We break this, we destroy the anchor between our worlds.  After all, it is odd, is it not, that we can only spawn in the Fractured City? In the direct vicinity of this orb, which centuries ago, we went to great lengths to protect?” She brushed some of her white hair back, fingers twitching.  “Of course, no human dared set foot in this place for so long, either...”

Jael growled.  “No.  If this is your plan...  surely you condemn us all? We cannot breed on this planet like we do back home.”

“What is it?” Geraline asked, speaking out the sentiment the rest of the expedition felt.

“They call it the Heart of the Ancient,” Helena answered, slowly stepping towards it, partly reverent, partly anxious.  “Supposedly the heart of an old God, one before your sun and moon deities.  We destroy it...  and no more Shadows will be able to cross over into your world.  There will still be mindless, but there will be no more Supremes.  Their numbers will be limited.”

Just before Jael voiced her dissent, or Geraline attempted to ask what purpose would Helena have in crippling her kind so badly – the hissing noise rang out.

“TRESPASSERS! How dare you look upon the Heart! All of you must die!”

Again, the tendrils of hands started reaching out of the floor, surrounding the podium.  Everyone jumped away, frightened beyond measure, and Alyssa gasped when Supremes came out of the walls behind them, flinging their corrupted magic into the heart of the expedition.

One other revealed themselves as well, with blue glowing eyes, with two missing limbs, and it snarled, “HELENA.  JAEL.  And Grace...  how dare you hang with the filth? You have betrayed everything we mean.  Our purpose.  I won't let you live.”

Werewolves collapsed under the barrage of grasping hands from the floor, before Jael focused her freeze spell upon the floor in a radius around them, leaving them vulnerable to everything else.

“I'm sorry, this is the best I can do,” Jael murmured.  The wrinkles around her lips became deep crevices.

“No, you shield from them.  I'll handle the floor,” Helena said.  She placed her hands upon the ground, and it turned bright white, encasing itself in ice.  The ice rose up a few inches, elevating everyone and leaving them a slippery but secure anchor against the grasping hands, which couldn't handle permafrost.  Jael instantly raised her shield, and Helena screamed at the witches, “Focus all your power on the Heart! Destroy it!”

Hesitating, Geraline saw the look of desperation on Helena's face, the fear in the Shadow's eyes.

Was this really what their entire invasion had been for? Why thousands of werewolves and witches had died, and some more than once?

Obediently, with Malek pressing his body against her, preparing for any intrusions, Geraline flung her firebombs at the Heart.  The glass held strong, resisting her magic.  Yarrow crackled lightning at it.  The Supremes continued flooding the perimeter, now appearing on the other side, leaving them surrounded by greater numbers of magic casters.

Jael's magic appeared to be focusing on the air around them to freeze magic as it entered, but not to stop the Supremes from simply pushing in and overwhelming them.

Helena screamed and conjured up an ice wall completely obscuring one side of the final floor, but it got melted down within seconds by fire casters – who were unable to do the same to the floor within Jael's protection.  Yarrow switched her targeting, focusing on the fire casters.

“We're outmatched.  This isn't a case of us versus some mindless drones.  This is the best of their magic casters crammed into the field.” Jael clenched her jaw, and Geraline's heart squeezed.  Fire, lightning, water, and what appeared to be air blasts pummelled Jael's spell, sticking on the edges like liquids.

Grace, although on their side, hesitated a moment.  “I remember the motivations of the Shadow.  It does not want this to happen.”

“Don't you agree, though?” Faith yelled at her, eyes wide in panic.  “That if we can't stop this, there won't be any humanity left?”

“I don't know if that's a bad thing.” Grace hesitated a moment, before stepping towards the Supremes on the front line, drawing her sword.  “But I do know that each and every one of these Shadows would slaughter you.  And I do feel...  something here.” Grace smiled.  “Granddaughter.”

Faith's eyebrows twitched, her lower lip trembled, before Grace flung herself into the Supremes, wreaking havoc amongst them with her uncanny ability to avoid spells and hack at key targets.  She aimed towards the armless Shadow, reaching them and hacking them down before the sheer barrage of spells and numbers proved too much, even for a combat witch to avoid.  Grace crumbled into dust, her gleaming sword lying on the ground.

Meanwhile, Geraline kept flinging firebombs, gradually melting the glass, before deciding to go all out and directing her blue flames upon the portal.  She heard Helena scream in fury and frustration, and felt her heart shiver in panic when she saw Jael collapse next to them, a black spike embedded in her skull.  She crumbled into ash.  No more shield.  No more Jael.

“Come on!” Helena screeched.  “We must!”

“Helena, what are your plans?” Alyssa's voice drifted to them, silent, even as Yarrow desperately tried deflecting incoming magic with her lightning.  “There is no benefit for you if you die here, is there? You must have had something.”

“I do,” Helena said.  Her voice trembled slightly, all her former confidence and cold patience dissolving.  “And it might not happen if I die.  Not much of a choice now, though.”

In response, Faith and Alyssa stepped to shield the Supreme.  Several werewolves tightened their ring around her.  The poor, hapless werewolves on the outer ring were melting, collapsing, their numbers devoured by the onslaught.  They were already exhausted from the climb, on their last legs instead of getting the rest they needed.  Geraline saw the shape of the glass vanish under her blue flames, and now she was on the Heart itself – apparently the most powerful magical artefact in the world, and she was destroying it, sacrificing what might have been the Fractured City's greatest legacy.  Something like this could create civilizations.  End them.  Allow them to access multiple worlds, maybe travel to the stars.  Why, if they could just take it...

Geraline sighed, quelling her ambitions, and watching as the Heart melted.

Pulsing red and green light throbbed over the heart, tainted purple by the ethereal blue glow of the room.

It contracted.

Screams of anger resonated from the Supremes.  Even as the Heart pulsated light and collapsed, exploding in a wailing vibration of power, the blast knocking them down, bolts of energy from the Supremes rained down upon them.  Malek instantly leapt onto her body with his, but it didn't prevent the barrage from hitting the center of their group, or the searing pain that dug into Geraline's thigh, which must have been some sharp object, since spells couldn't penetrate her so easily through the armor.  She screamed, her heart almost bursting out of her chest – someone kicked her on the side of her head, and she fell limp – without knowing if they'd all be dead in seconds, without seeing if they had saved anything.

Without knowing if they'd actually made any difference in the war at all.