Aleira Brightleaf's Arc

Chapter 16 of 18

The tower fell behind them, but the wastes gave no mercy. Heat pressed down from every side. Aleira led Hazel and Morwenna across cracked black ground, looking for any slope that climbed toward the surface. There was none. Just red rock and rising steam in every direction. She stopped. Her own robe, woven from cinderbark and spider lily fibers, kept the killing heat off her skin. But it would not last forever, and the way out was gone. "No road," Morwenna said. She hugged her dead staff to her chest. The skull on top was dark now, its green fire spent. "No road up. No shade. We walk, we cook. We stop, we cook. I told you. The wastes are a bigger grave than the tower." Her white eyes darted at every shimmer in the air. Aleira crouched and pressed a hand to the ground. It burned even through her glove. Then she felt it. A faint pull of cooler air, low and steady, seeping up through a seam in the rock. She dug her fingers into the crack. Air moved against them. "There's a hollow under us," she said. "Cool air. That means a tunnel. A way down and out." Hazel stumbled over, leaves shaking loose from her hair. She gripped her wand in both fists. "You want me to break it open," she said. "But I never hit what I aim at. I'll miss. I always miss." "I know you'll miss," Aleira said. "That's why I want you to aim at the sky." She pointed straight up. "Aim high. Your spell will drop low. It'll strike the seam and split it. Trust your bad aim. It's saved us before." Hazel swallowed. She raised the wand toward the burning sky and shut her eyes. "Sky," she whispered. "I'm aiming at the sky." She cast. The bolt jerked downward, as it always did. It slammed the seam in the rock. Stone cracked and buckled. A slab dropped away, and a black mouth opened in the ground. Cool air poured out, washing over Aleira's face like water. Below lay a tunnel sloping down into shadow. Morwenna knelt at the edge and stared into it. For once she did not name a fear. "Cold," she said. "It's cold down there. Cold is good." Aleira looked into the dark passage. It led down, away from the surface she wanted. But cool air meant it connected somewhere, and somewhere was better than baking on open rock. "Down first," she said. "Then up. This tunnel goes somewhere. We follow it to the surface." She lowered herself into the opening. Her boots found solid footing on the slope. The heat fell away behind her. Then, far ahead in the dark, she saw a faint green glow moving toward them, and the sound of many feet.