The Rise of Fortune and Fury (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 5)

It hurts like a bitch, though, and I can’t help but cry out in pain.

I’m panting now, trying to hold myself on the log and figure out how to right myself in between swinging axes.

That’s when I notice that the end of the log, just a mere ten feet from me, is jostling so much from this earthquake that it’s bouncing closer to the edge of the pit. It won’t be long before it falls off into the dark abyss, which means I don’t have time to study the timing of the swinging axes anymore.

I don’t trust my magic since trying to manipulate the swinging poles caused more to appear, so I dismiss trying to build another staircase across the short distance to the edge or even trying to bend distance. The risk is too great.

I close my eyes, feel the whoosh of the axes behind me and to the front. I feel the blood soaking into my pant leg, knowing I can’t afford another confrontation with one of those blades. With the log now starting to bounce, I decide it’s do or die.

I pop up straight, watch the last two axes part on their swings outward, and fling myself forward across the unstable log. I hold my arms out for balance as I tippy-toe my dash forward. My body lurches from side to side but, somehow, I manage not to get cut. When I make it past the last ax, I’m horrified to see the end of the log start to fall off the edge of the pit.

Only one thing to do—I make a flying leap for the edge just as the log slips free of the ledge and tumbles into the darkness. My momentum is strong enough that only my feet fall short of the edge. I land hard on my chest, both arms reaching outward to scrape at the dirt as everything from my waist down hangs over the ledge. Feet scrabbling for purchase, I manage to push, kick, and claw my way up onto the ledge where I roll to my back and gasp for air.

My entire body feels depleted, and I have no clue what awaits me next. I’m not stupid enough to think that I’m near the end or that the next task will be easier.

In fact, I’m sure it will be harder.

I take a few moments to at least get my breathing under control. When I feel like my legs won’t give way, I manage to lurch to a standing position. Leaning over, I pull at the ripped fabric of my workout pants and look at the cut to the outside of my thigh. I was at enough of an angle that the ax nipped me but the cut is about three inches long and freely bleeding. I can’t see how deep it is, nor do I want to as I might pass out. With nothing to bandage the wound or even pack down inside my pants, I ignore it and hope it’s superficial enough that I won’t die from blood loss.

There’s another opening in the cave wall with a torch on the wall beside it. But this one doesn’t have a short passage to another room but rather seems to stretch on into the darkness. I grab the torch, pray there are no more snakes, and step through.

The passageway I follow is wider than the others and actually meanders in gentle curves and bends. To my surprise, torches appear on the walls along the way, but I keep the one in my hand just in case.

After several minutes of careful walking, I come out into another cavern, but this one is different from the others. It’s larger in width and depth with stalagmites rising in thick columns from the floor all the way up to the low-hanging ceiling. The effect is to parcel the large cave into sections and provide plenty of places for someone or something to be lurking behind.

I immediately go into defensive mode, walking several feet away from any stalagmites lest something come leaping out from behind one. Even though there are plenty of torches, the columns of rising rock block the light depending on where I walk, so the cavern is mostly shadowed. At this point, I can’t even see the next opening I need to go through, but I try to keep walking in the same direction.

When the attack comes, it’s not in the form of a beast leaping out from behind a stalagmite.

Instead, it’s a dark daemon who casually walks around one so as to put himself in my path. It’s not overly tall, maybe five-ten or so, but he’s built like a linebacker. His aura is thick and black, but I don’t need it to see the evil intent in his eyes.

Wearing nothing but leather pants, his bare chest is shiny as if covered in oil and he’s got two brass cuffs around his thick biceps and another two around his wrists. His countenance is humanoid, much more than any other daemon I’ve seen before. He’s actually kind of handsome with a square jaw that projects strength and determination. His Light and Dark Fae parents must have been nobles or royals, I’m guessing.