Zach Brenner's Arc

Chapter 44 of 86

The eight-legged creature charged. Zach let his sword fly free and pulsed white light through its chest. It shrieked and crumpled. Garrok's axe took its head. The hall went quiet, but Zach's chest burned. Malachar was gone through the portal, and the portal had closed. "He knows where the tower is," Zach said. "We don't. Without that, we can't cut him off from the crystal." They ran back through the tunnel and out to the snowy ledge. The airship still hung above the cave mouth, ropes dangling. Talon leaned over the rail, katanas sheathed, his black hair whipping in the wind. He had guided them across half the north because he knew this land better than any map. "Where's the sorcerer?" he called. "Gone," Zach said. "He portaled to the tower. It moves every day. We've lost him." A new voice cut across the snow. "Don't think you've lost yet." An old man stood at the edge of the ledge, gray robe snapping, cat ears flat against the cold. Geneva. The last descendant of the warrior who first sealed Darkthorne. He had taught Zach to become one with the blade in his swamp cottage. Now he had come here, though no one had asked him. Zach stared. "How did you—" "Later." Geneva planted his feet. "Even if Malachar wakes the sorcerer's power, you can still end it. The sword's power isn't yours alone, boy. Zach learned to be one with the blade. Now the rest of you learn to be one with Zach." Lyra pressed her palm to the frozen stone. Her face tightened. "I can still feel him. Faint. The portal scattered his trail." She looked up. "I can't find him this way. Not alone." "Then don't be alone," Geneva said. "Join to him. Lend him your gift. The blade will carry it further than your hands can reach." Zach held out the sword. "Take hold." Lyra gripped the blade below his fingers. Raven set her hand over both. Ayla pressed her crystal to the flat of the steel. Garrok wrapped one huge fist around the pommel. White light spilled up the metal and ran into each of them. Lyra gasped. Her eyes glowed. "I feel him," she whispered. "The light—it stretches. North. Past three ridges." Her hand shook. "There. A tower on a black plain. It hasn't moved yet." Zach felt her sight bleed into his own mind through the blade. He saw the tower plain as day. Squat, dark, ringed by dead ground. He knew exactly where it stood. The light faded. Lyra sagged, and Talon dropped a rope to steady her. Geneva nodded once, grim. "We have him," Zach said. "We know where the tower stands." He looked at the ropes, at the airship swaying overhead. "But we're behind. He'll reach the crystal before we land unless we fly now."