Aleira Brightleaf's Arc

Chapter 9 of 18

The plume still poured from the broken peak. Aleira turned from it and heard a new sound below. Stone grinding on stone. She looked down. Under the pile of fallen rock, a huge leg twitched. The creature they had pinned days ago was waking. Its round, cheesy body pushed against the slab that trapped it. A crack ran through the stone. "It's not dead," Morwenna said. She scrambled up the throne's arm, staff clutched to her chest. "I said it wasn't dead. Only stuck. Now it's not stuck. Now we have a spider in front and burning outside and I can't run through walls." She stopped. "I can't. I checked." The slab lifted an inch. Yellow legs spread, tipped with red. The wide mouth opened and showed rows of teeth. If it broke free, it would pin Aleira against the sealed side of the tower. Two threats, one small floor. She had no room to fight both. Hazel raised her wand and backed toward the wall. "I'll blast it. I'll blast it hard." Her hand shook so badly the tip drew circles in the air. "No," Aleira said. "You'll miss and drop more stone on us." She grabbed a broken chunk from the pile, the size of her head, still hot. Her robe kept the burn off her palms. An idea locked into place. "You always miss the same way. Your spells curve up. So we make the miss useful." The creature heaved. The slab slid sideways. One full leg came free and slapped the floor. It dragged its body forward, half out now, mouth reaching for Morwenna's dangling boot. Aleira threw the hot rock. It struck the creature square on the head. The mouth snapped shut and swung toward her instead. "Hazel! Aim at its feet. Right at the floor under it." Hazel screwed her eyes shut and fired. The spark hit the stone by the creature's legs, then curved wild and climbed, the way it always did. It struck the ceiling straight above the beast. A wide slab cracked loose and fell. The rock came down on the creature's back. Its legs buckled. The body split with a wet sound, cheese and shell bursting across the floor. The teeth clacked once, then went still. Yellow slop steamed on the hot stone. Morwenna dropped from the throne and stared at the crushed heap. "Dead," she said. "Dead this time. All the way." Aleira lowered her arm. The threat behind them was gone. But the second slab had torn a fresh gap in the wall near the floor. Cool air whistled in through it. And with the air came a sound she knew. Voices. Boots on stone. Close. She looked through the new gap and saw robed figures crossing the wastes toward the tower. The necromancers had followed the smoke. Now they had found a door.