Alora: The Maladorn Scroll (Alora 3)

I must finish the task myself.

**********

Hanging onto his consciousness by a gossamer thread, Bardamen struggled to hold the trapped gifts, which pushed to escape like a thousand insects struggling in a web.

Though he could no longer feel pain, his other senses were magnified. The rough stone of the floor, cool against his face. The crickets chirping from far below the tower walls, echoing as loud as screams in his ears. The wind gusting through watchtower window openings, swirling the dust against his skin. The effort required drawing a breath into his lungs.

But after a time, his stubborn will lost its battle, and his mind faded to blackness. And all the captured gifts raced back to their rightful owners, like roaches running from the lamplight.

Bardamen never knew when the crickets stopped their strident song. As the thick, acrid smoke billowed through the windows, his eyes never noticed the obscured moonlight. Nor did he feel the burning sensation of smoke filling his lungs.

**************

“Glaenshire’s on fire!”

Arista’s words set off a flurry of shouts as almost every able bodied citizen in the healing house darted outside.

Meravelle wasn’t concerned about fire damage to the Craedenza—built of rock and isolated as it was on top of the stony outcropping that served as its foundation. Even the healing house was safe from fire, with its walls of thick clay and slate roof. But most of the other buildings and homes had thatched roofs, and a fire would spread quickly, destroying much of Glaenshire and the surrounding forest as well.

It was in that moment that a horrifying thought made her heart turn over inside her chest.

“Bardamen!” she shouted into the fray. “Has anyone seen Bardamen?”

No one seemed to hear her, so she hurried to Raelene, whose concentration was centered on the two healers frantically working on Kaevin.

“Raelene! Have you seen Bardamen?”

“No.” Her eyes widened. “Were you not the last to see him?”

Mera’s heart raced, the blood pounding in her ears. “I’d just hoped it wasn’t true, but I’m certain he’s trapped.”

“Trapped? How is he trapped?”

“He needed high ground to work his magick, and I sent him to the watchtower in the middle of the forest. If there’s a fire, he has no escape.”

Raelene covered her face with her hands. “Alora is our only hope to save him then, and she may not have the strength.”

Raelene edged her way to stand beside the young bearer sitting near Kaevin’s head and clutching his hand, leaning against her uncle for support. With her pale face and tightly closed eyes, Alora appeared on the verge of death, like her soulmate.

“Alora,” Raelene whispered.

As if it required great effort, Alora slowly opened her eyes. “Yes, Grandmother?”

“How do you feel?”

“Weak... but I’m not ready to give up.”

Raelene let out heavy sigh. “I need to ask you something, but the decision is yours. Bardamen’s life is in danger. Have you the strength to bring him here?”

A tear rolled down her face. “I’ll try. I have to. Kaevin is Stone Clan leader here. If he were awake, he’d choose Bardamen’s life over his.”

Raelene nodded, hugging her close and kissing her cheek. “I love you, Alora, and I believe you can do this. But remember to—”

“Draw from water, wood, or stone, not the soulmate bond,” Alora finished her sentence with a wan smile. “I remember. I love you, too.”

Alora squeezed her eyes shut and scrunched her nose. In the next moment, Bardamen’s body appeared on the floor.

Mera gasped. “Is he dead?”