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

I glance at Boral, giving him a wink. I was far more prepared for this than Maddox.

While I continue to envision my bridge, Boral explains. “The tortured souls in the river are ravenous—starved of any type of connection to the living. They will consume anything that crosses the banks. If you tried to bend distance or even fly over it, they would drag you down.”

“We could fly really high,” Maddox suggested.

“So can they,” Boral replied. “Of course, this is just what I’ve seen with my own eyes before I left the Underworld, but, to stay on the safe side, we should build some type of protective crossover to ensure none of us get snatched and taken down.”

Boral had clarified this over breakfast. Apparently, Maddox wasn’t paying attention, but I also distinctly remember him flirting with Rainey, too.

With my steel support beams imagined, I envision an enclosed tunnel that will arch across the river. Thick sheets of steel are riveted together so tightly, nothing can get through. I finish my mental creation with stairs to lead us to the apex and down to the ground on the other side, and I even add lights in the ceiling every five feet to give us sure footing.

Closing my eyes, I access my magic, which no longer flares warmth within me, but is palpable as if I could touch it. I straighten my arms alongside my body, palms upward, and then slowly lift them. As I do, I watch my bridge creation start to take form. Not in the conventional way something might be built in the correct order, but rather it starts to materialize out of the air until it solidifies and becomes real.

“Amazing,” Carrick murmurs as he walks to the edge of the stairs that will lead into the tunnel, sitting about twenty feet from the edge of the river. As he reaches it, something rises from the river—a form of sorts but not distinguishable as male or female. It’s made of the same reddish-gold lava without obvious appendages. Almost like an old-fashioned ghost costume that we’d wear as kids with just a sheet over us and the eyes cut out. The creature hovers, bobs on the air current above the river, and watches Carrick even though it doesn’t have eyes.

Just waiting for one of us to cross.

“Let’s go,” he says brusquely, and we all move onto the staircase. Maddox goes first, then Boral, me, and finally Carrick bringing up the rear. Before we enter the tube-like portion, I see that several more of those beings have risen and are leaning back slightly as they watch us.

When we enter the steel tunnel, which means we are now crossing the river itself, something bangs into the side so violently that the bridge and tunnel groan from the strain. The thick steel I’d conjured buckles inward from whatever just slammed into the structure.

No… not whatever.

It was an evil soul looking for a snack.

More banging as those creatures fling themselves against the tunnel, denting the thick metal so hard that some of the rivets start to loosen.

“Run,” Carrick orders Maddox, who doesn’t hesitate.

The end of the stairs at the apex provides us about twenty feet of flat steel to run across, and we pick up speed. A huge boom shakes the tunnel, something having crashed right under Boral with such force that he gets catapulted up to the ceiling before flopping back down onto his stomach. Whatever had hit there did so with such violence that the seam in the steel pops and riveted bolts slip out of their holes. Through the opening, a snakelike portion of lava creeps in and latches onto Boral’s leg. His pants catch fire, and I can hear his skin sizzle like bacon in a pan. He screams in pain. Before I can consider what to do, I’m shooting light magic at the tortured soul looking to feast.

My light hits the slithering appendage of lava, and the thing emits an unholy shriek before letting go.

Carrick rushes forward, hauling Boral up by the back of his coat, and we all take off running again. Maddox waits for us at the staircase that will lead down, more of the creatures hitting the tunnel, but as we start our descent, we are no longer over the actual river, and the sounds of them throwing themselves against the tunnel recede.

We’re all out of breath when we jump down the last few steps and hit the black sand on the far bank of the river.

When I look back over my shoulder, several of the creatures have risen, still connected to the flow of lava. They are turned toward us. Despite them not having actual faces, I can feel their hate and hostility over us crossing safely. One by one, they drop back down into the depths and, as far as I know, are swept upstream with the current.