Alora: The Maladorn Scroll (Alora 3)

The portal was quite short—only about thirty yards—but wide enough that everyone could spread out at the end and get organized. Arista opened the door a tiny sliver to peek out. When she closed it and turned to face them, her alarm sent Alora’s heart into spasms.

“It’s a battle,” Arista said. “With warriors bearing Vindrake’s bondmark.”

“At least we’re in Tenavae,” Wesley remarked. “I was afraid we might end up in some different freaky world. Maybe one without oxygen. Or someplace underwater.”

“Did you see Markaeus?” asked Uncle Charles.

“I saw no one I recognized.”

Kaevin held up his machete. “With Water Clan warriors present, we must be in Portshire.”

Her face resolute, Arista nocked an arrow. “I’m not afraid.”

Alora heard Jireo muttering to Kaevin, “Her lack of fear frightens me most.”

As Arista turned back toward the door, Kaevin called out, “Wait, Arista.”

Heedless to his warning, she slipped out, and the door shut behind her.

“Brightness!” said Kaevin and Jireo in unison, sprinting to the door with blades in hand.

“We’re right behind you,” Brian called, as he and Wesley raced after them.

All five were gone within seconds.

Uncle Charles paused. “Alora, I don’t want to go out there without saying, ‘I love you.’”

Alora hugged him tight, wishing she could stay there, safe in his arms like when she was younger and innocent... before she learned her dangerous heritage and destiny. But reality intruded, ruining her moment of peace.

“I don’t have a weapon.” Realizing she was the only one who hadn’t grabbed a knife from Wesley’s box, Alora prayed her uncle would have a spare with him.

He rummaged in the old brown rucksack she’d seen a thousand times in the backseat of his truck. “Take these. Two knives—one ceramic and one titanium. Both will transport, of course.”

“Jireo showed me how to hold a knife in hand-to-hand combat, but I’m not too good at throwing them.”

“Me neither,” Uncle Charles commented as he dug deeper in his pack. “But I’ve a

lso got a few cans of pepper spray in here. If a bad guy gets close and there’s some reason you can’t transport out of the way, spray this in his eyes.” Charles offered her a can. “Of course, you can’t take it if you transport anywhere.”

“Thanks, Uncle Charles. I think I’ll stick with the knives.”

Closing the Velcro tabs, he swung the backpack straps over his shoulders, while Alora tucked the knives in her pockets and reached for the door handle. With her heart thumping fast and hard inside her ribcage like she’d been exercising, her hand refused to open the door.

What if I lose the lid on my pain? Laethan says I’m months away from getting back to normal, and it could kill me if it came out all at once. Or what if see my father and go into panic mode?

Turning back toward her uncle, she threw her arms around his waist. “Pray for me, Uncle Charles. I didn’t want anyone to know, but I’m really scared. I wish I’d never learned how to suppress my emotions, because now it happens all the time. I had no idea it was dangerous to use my stupid empathy gift like that.”

Smoothing her hair, he kissed the top of her head. “Alora, I pray for you every day. I believe you can handle anything you come up against. You know how proud I am of you, right?”

She nodded against his chest, soaking in his encouragement.

“You can do this, Alora. Laethan taught you how to handle your gift. You’ve been practicing. I know you can do it. You have to. Markaeus needs you. We all need you.”

“Okay.” She took a deep shuddery breath. “Okay, I can do this.”

The door slammed open before Alora’s hand could touch it. Arista pounced inside, hair escaping from her loose braid, each curly strand flying about like a living creature.

“Hurry, Alora! Kaevin says you must bring more warriors from Stone Clan.”