Chapter Eighteen
Shadowy figures began scaling down the cavern walls. Rowan and his troops were closing in. The whole scene was turning dreamlike, and not only from the fact that I’d lost so much blood.
My mate was coming to attack me.
Moving to stand by my left, Mrefu took out his bow and notched in an arrow. Nan pulled out a dagger and took the spot on my right.
“Cast a spell,” ordered Nan.
“I can’t. I lost all my memory of incantations. You and Mrefu should run. I can face Rowan alone.”
Nan rolled her eyes. “You were always too noble for your own good. I’m not leaving you.”
Through the haze in my mind, I managed to speak. “Why do you trust me now?”
“You went with Kila Kitu.” Her eyes glimmered. “That took courage. I was wrong to believe Petra’s tricks. You’d never order my death behind my back.”
I forced a smile. “No, I’d fight you face to face.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you.” For the first time, I noticed how her skin seemed to shimmer in odd ways in the dim light. There was no time to contemplate that now, though.
Warriors were scaling farther down the walls in their bid to attack us. All my plans were going to implode, right here, unless I could think of something. I scanned my head, desperate for any solution.
Sadly, my mind was as empty as my veins.
With a series of thuds like drumrolls, the first of the warriors reached the chamber floor, their boots hitting the wet ground with a sloshy thud. I should have been planning my escape, but I could only scan the oncoming faces.
Was Rowan in the first group?
I didn’t see my mate, but I did spot Kade and Amelia, both wearing their Caster leathers. Kade wielded a Sword. Amelia had some kind of cannon contraption winding up her arm. Both of their mouths were contorted into angry snarls.
Was it only a day ago that I laughed with Amelia in her laboratory? Or the Casters reached for my fingertips, wishing me well as their best chance to win against Viktor? And now, they all glared at me with outright hatred.
Curse you, Mlinzi and Walinzi.
I was hobbling closer to the edge of the platform when I saw him. Rowan. He was everything strong and majestic as he scaled down the wall, a single loop of vine around his right arm.
Then his gaze locked with mine. Nothing but pure rage shone in his green eyes. The sight cut me through, more deeply than any knife.
I had to get out of here.
The only way to get my Rowan back was to find that damnable Sword, and Kila Kitu had it. I rounded on the mage. “I understand that you don’t trust me, but you don’t trust anyone but your Elea, do you?”
Kila Kitu slowly swung his head from side to side. No.
“Well, I’m the closest to her that you’ll ever get. And I look like her, don’t I?” I gestured toward my face. Kila Kitu winced.
With that, I knew exactly how to get him to give me the Sword.
“Can you really let me go now?” I asked. “Leave me to die like she did?”
Kila Kitu didn’t answer, which was a response in itself. He wouldn’t leave me to die.
I leaned in closer to him. “If you give me the Sword hilt, I will not betray your trust.”
“You do look so much like her,” said Kila Kitu in his deep whisper.
“That’s right. So give me the hilt. Now. After that, I’ll need a way to leave this place safely along with Nan and Mrefu.”
Kila Kitu frowned. “You ask too much.”
“The hilt is no good to me if I’m imprisoned. Plus, you should want to rescue Nan and Mrefu, they’re Zaidi.”
All of a sudden, it looked as if the entire cavern were lined with Caster warriors. They raced toward us in a single wave of brown leather and angry faces. I tried to ignore Rowan’s glare in the mix.
Kila Kitu gave me the barest of nods. “You are worthy. Barely.” With those words, the mage burst back into a swirl of tiny particles. Another vortex appeared on the round platform. Someone gripped my arm through my Necromancer robes. I looked over to see Rowan standing beside me.
“Where is Jicho?” His voice was tight with fury. I could only gape at him in agony and longing.
My Rowan. My mate.
Before I could reply, long tendrils of moss, leaves, and wind wrapped around my body, pulling me into the vortex on the round stage. Rowan was untouched by the gale. Nan and Mrefu quickly became caught in the same whirlwind as well. As the winds moved faster, the stone platform opened up, pulling all three of us underground.
Rowan glared at me from the edge of the pit as I spun lower. It didn’t seem possible that our pain and grief could still be so fresh, but it was. My eyes prickled with tears as I spun into the abyss below. In truth, I didn’t know where I was going, but at least I was alive. And something even better had come to pass as well: a metal hilt had magickally appeared in my palms. It was made of silver and encrusted with a swirling pattern of tiny amethysts. Kila Kitu had kept his word.
The first part of the Sword of Theodora was mine.