The tunnel, like all the other ones in this place, had been hewn out of the earth and possessed sharp edges that tore into my particles every time I brushed against its walls—which happened a lot. Behind me, an odd rumbling began to override the noise of the falling stones, getting louder and louder, until it almost sounded like a freight train was bearing down on top of me. The walls of the tunnel began to vibrate under the force of it, and it felt like the whole world was about to come down on top of me.
Then it did.
Air slapped me, sending me tumbling yet again as a rolling wave of stones and dust and debris began to fill the tunnel. I had little choice but to roll along with it, simply because I didn’t have the speed to outrun it.
After what seemed like an interminably long time, the force of the wave began to ease, until it was only the wash of dust that accompanied me through the tunnel. It was at that point that my strength gave out.
The Aedh magic crawled across my skin and slowly shifted both me and Azriel back into flesh form. We crashed to the grimy floor as one, his body pressed against my back and taking the brunt of the fall. I rolled off him but for several minutes could do nothing more than suck in air and thank the fates, the gods, and whoever else might be listening for letting us survive.
We might still have Hunter ahead of us, but we’d at least survived two of our three major adversaries, and that was far further than I’d ever thought we’d get.
You need to have more faith in your own strength, came the somewhat weak comment.
Relief surged. I twisted around and flung myself into Azriel’s arms. “You’re okay,” I said, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his lips, all in rapid succession. “Thank god you’re okay.”
He laughed softly and wrapped his arms around me, the fierceness of his grip belying the wash of w
eakness I could still feel in him. “You just spent five minutes thanking everyone imaginable for our survival, and yet you sound both relieved and surprised to hear me speak.”
“Surviving is one thing. Surviving intact and relatively unhurt is another.” I paused and pulled back a little. “You are unhurt, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “Weaker than sin, but yes, unhurt.”
“Thank god,” I said again. I ran a finger down his cheek, creating a clean spot. “What actually happened to you and the cage when I killed Mike?”
“The cage exploded and would undoubtedly have killed me had I not had the protection of Valdis.” He smiled and kissed my fingertip. “That was a very clever move on your part.”
“I couldn’t think of any other way of getting both Amaya and Valdis inside whatever trap Mike had waiting.” I shrugged. “I’m just glad it worked out as well as it did.”
“So am I.” He kissed my finger again, then released me and pushed—somewhat gingerly—into a sitting position. “Valdis protected me from the worst of the explosion, but the force of it basically shredded her net and blew us both across the cavern. I’m not sure what I hit my head on, but the first thing I remember after that was waking to your weight landing on top of me.”
I lightly slapped his arm. “You say that like I weigh a ton.”
He smiled. “In my current condition, a feather would feel like a ton.”
My amusement fled. “How badly did that cage drain you?”
He shrugged. “It is nothing that I can’t recover from.”
“That’s not exactly answering my question, you know.”
“I know. Shall we return to the office, or the room we have acquired at the Langham?”
“My clothes are all at the café, but if you need to recharge, we’d better head to the Langham. It’s more private.”
“I do not think we should run the risk of recharging given we are little more than seven hours away from Hunter’s deadline.”
“Which is precisely why we can’t run the risk of not regaining our strength,” I said crossly. “Hunter will be the hardest of them all to defeat, and who knows if she’ll actually wait until eight in the morning anyway.”
And if it is Myer who watches us astrally rather than Markel, you just gave the game away, Azriel said.
Hunter is undoubtedly aware of the fact that I have no plans to actually give her the key. I half shrugged. Myer will become a problem when we actually find the key. We can’t let her—or Hunter—know what we plan to do with it.
His gaze sharpened. We know what you’re going to do with it—give it to the reapers for safekeeping.
Which was undoubtedly a sensible move except for the fact that it was never safe for something of such power to be held entirely in one space . . . My thoughts stalled. That was what Kiandra’s warning—that safety lies in four—had meant. If we wanted to be safe, then the key had to be broken into four pieces, with each piece being guarded separately from the others. While the Raziq were no longer a problem, there were still plenty of dark forces left in this world and the next that might yet discover the existence of the key and attempt to find it. But if it was split, and no one but myself and Azriel knew where all four pieces were, there was a greater chance that its existence would be forgotten.
And it is possibly an action the fates might live with, Azriel said.