Aleira Brightleaf's Arc

Chapter 10 of 18

The crushed spider still steamed on the floor. Through the fresh gap in the wall, Aleira watched the robed necromancers cross the wastes. She counted more than twenty. Behind her, Hazel gripped her wand and grinned, proud of the ceiling she'd just brought down. That grin was the problem. Hazel's magic had won every fight so far. But every win was an accident. Her spells curved wild and hit whatever they hit. Against seven, Aleira could gamble on bad aim. Against twenty, one lucky misfire would not be enough. "You want me to blast them," Hazel said. She aimed her wand at the gap. "I'll blast them all at once. Big blast." "No." Aleira caught her wrist. "You'll hit the throne. Or the roof. Or me." She let go and thought. Hazel's power was real. It brought down stone and split shells. If Aleira could not control where it landed, she had to control what it landed on. Morwenna huddled by the throne, staff shaking. "They'll strip us. They'll drag me out. They'll know I hid. I can't. I can't go with them." She pressed her back to the cold stone. Aleira looked at the necromancers, then at the sealed pile of rubble that once was the entrance. An idea locked in. She would not aim Hazel at the enemy. She would aim her at the wall between them. "Hazel," she said. "See the gap they're heading for? I want you to seal it. Fire at the floor just below it. Miss up, the way you always do." Hazel frowned. "Seal it? But then they can't get in." "That's the point." Hazel planted her feet. She shut her eyes and fired. The spark struck low, then curved up, exactly as it always did. It smashed the wall above the gap. A whole slab of lava-veined stone tore free and dropped across the breach. The gap vanished under rubble. The voices outside went muffled. Boots scraped, then stopped. But the slab had not fallen clean. It struck the base of the tower's inner wall, and a long crack shot up toward the broken peak. The whole tower groaned. Hot orange light leaked through the crack. Molten rock, the same fire that fed the spire's glowing veins, began to weep down the inside wall. "It's melting," Morwenna said. "The tower. It's melting in." Aleira stared. She had sealed the enemy out. She had also cracked the spire itself. The necromancers could not reach them now. But the lava crept lower, pooling near the throne, and the air grew thick with heat their robes could barely hold. She had won the fight without luck. She had chosen the target and it held. Yet the throne she'd crossed Hell to claim now sat in the path of the tower's own fire. Aleira grabbed Morwenna's arm and pulled her back from the spreading glow.