Prince of Air and Darkness (The Darkest Court)

“Watch it!” I snap the ley line forward, ripping a chunk from the muscled mass that hurtled toward Roark’s unprotected back.

I run to his side and press my shoulder against his. We’ve fought like this before over the years, but this is the first time I’ve ever enjoyed it. This time I notice every subtle shift of his muscles and all I want to do is keep him from getting hurt.

He yells, “Now!”

I sense his dodge and move with him. The ground shudders when the place we just stood is flattened by a bleeding tentacle. I slash my hand toward it and the ley line roars up to obey.

The kraken emits a high-pitched scream when the golden energy slices through its flesh, leaving nothing behind but a smoking stump and twitching former tentacle.

I try to whoop in victory, but the world slides sideways and little dots of black cloud my vision. Roark catches me mid-slump and helps me keep my feet. I shake my head, forcing the spinning away, and refocus on the murderous creature.

“Making it mad seemed a good idea?” Roark complains, grabbing my hand and sprinting across the lawn.

“Says the man stabbing it with a pin?” I snap back, confused why we’re retreating when we could just cut it up and leave its quivering corpse behind for people to discover tomorrow.

If Roark thought our running away from the fountain would discourage the creature, he underestimated our ability to really piss off monsters of legend. The kraken rolls after us across the great lawn, a sucking, squelching ball of fury, its single eye fixed on us with predatory resolve.

We’ve run away from the university buildings, which is probably good for insurance purposes, but really bad for our life expectancy. Nowhere to hide. It’s just us in a giant open space with a monster that’s about ten times our size bearing down on us.

Roark’s rapier vanishes and he crouches, hands extended toward the earth. The temperature around us drops and I’m racked with sudden shivers. He whispers something, and the world in front of us explodes into a brutally jagged wall of ice.

The kraken slams into it as Roark adds more ice, creating a horseshoe of protection around us. The tentacles dip and tangle, cracking off the sharp points, trying to climb over and reach us.

“Go,” Roark says to me. He braces himself, as if he’s fighting the creature’s attack using the ice as an extension of himself.

No.

The ice begins to buckle and Roark pales. I haven’t moved from his side. His eyes dart to me.

“Run, you idiot,” he snarls. He’s protecting me, like he always has. It just took me a while to figure that out.

The ice cracks.

I push past the rising nausea and pain from my overuse of power and reach for the ley line. Roark panics when he figures out what I’m doing, but it’s too late. The heat of the line flows into me and I reach out to touch the edge of his ice shield.

Stronger. Protect him.

Raw power explodes out through my hand, shaping itself at the mere suggestion of my will. I picture impenetrable castle walls of dark stone surrounding us, walling us off from the creature—

It’s peaceful. Silent.

Safe.

A cool hand alights on my shoulder.

The ley line lurches as it retreats back into the earth. My body revolts and I hit my knees, dry-heaving as blackness steals my sight. A strong grip around my chest holds me up off the ground and Roark’s soft, lilting voice murmurs soothing words in a language I don’t know.

“Safe?” I croak around another attempt to turn up my guts.

“We’re safe, Smith.”

I don’t know how much time passes before the darkness fades. The first things to return are shapes and shadows. Then color. Then vibrancy. My eye muscles gripe at the movement as I follow the cloud of steam rising with my every exhale.

Roark sits a few feet off from me, still and thoughtful. Slowly, I adjust to the strange, bluish light.

We’re in an ice fortress. The moonlight filters through the thick bricks, bathing us in an unearthly glow. Outside, dimly, I can hear the thuds of the creature’s tentacles pulling against the ice in a vain effort to not freeze to this architectural monstrosity.

I asked the ley line to protect us, and it obeyed.