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

But for the swinging pendulum axes that are hanging from a horizontal steel pole above the log. The ax blades affixed to the end of metal bars are at least two feet in width and curved wickedly on the edges with sharp points.

They gleam in the torchlight, and there’s no doubt that they’d cleave parts of my body off with no problem at all.

There are five total, and they are swinging back and forth at odd intervals with only about five feet of distance in between.

I watch the swinging axes for a few moments and figure I can carefully maneuver through if I take my time.

But I don’t feel like taking my time.

I want out of here, and I decide to tap my magic again.

Holding both hands out, I imagine taking control of the momentum of the poles and pulling them all out to the side so I can freely walk across the log.

My magic works, shooting from me to coalesce around the arcing poles, but rather than taking control, something happens. With a loud clang, two more axes appear in between the existing ones. Now I have seven to contend with and some of the spaces in between just got noticeably tighter.

“Shit,” I mutter, trying to figure out what happened. My magic felt right, but something went wrong.

With my mind, I probe outward toward the pendulums and I can feel something coating the structure.

Not just something.

A spell of some sort.

Hesitantly, I hold my hands out and try to wrest control over just one ax this time—the first one.

There’s another loud clang and one more swinging ax appears.

Now there are eight, and the message is clear.

I’m not allowed to use magic to cross here like I could with the snakes. This is a test of my dexterity and nimbleness, as well as a big old heaping of courage.

I can do this.

I’m going to have to or else I’m going to end in pieces at the bottom of the pit.

I’m in the best shape of my life. My confidence is at an all-time high, and I’m no dummy. Part of this is strategy.

I take my time and merely watch the axes as they swing, counting seconds in between each one, estimating the distance between each set. I don’t know how much time passes, but I easily could have been watching for half an hour before I think I have the pattern of the pendulums memorized and my plan of attack.

I’m going to move through as quickly as I can, knowing I’ll have to pause twice between two of the sets, but otherwise, I think I can make it safely to the other side.

With my mind made up to be swift of foot rather than overly cautious, I step up onto the log and, with relief, note it feels very solid. I still need my arms for balance and to propel me forward as I run or to halt me when I pause, so I toss the torch behind me on the ground.

I watch the pendulous swinging of the axes for a few seconds to get my focus and my bearings once again. I take a deep breath, let it out.

Take in another, and then I bolt forward.

CHAPTER 14

Finley

The first three swinging axes are easy to time, and I’m able to run through them with plenty of clearance. I do feel, however, the waft of air across my ponytail from the third pole as it swings behind me, causing me to actually tuck my butt in a bit lest some of it get lopped off.

The last five are in a steady synchrony. Rather than run through them, I think I can take a steady walk but will need to turn my body sideways to slip through the last two.

Another deep breath and I make my move.

All goes fine through axes four, five, and six, and I’m feeling confident enough that I’m already preparing mentally for my next task. It’s by far easier to slip between two axes than the multiples I’ve done so far, so I don’t even bother with a deep breath before I start to step in between them.

And that’s when the cave starts rumbling and shaking, hard enough that stone above me loosens and rains down.

At first, I merely hold my arms out and my balance is maintained, but the shaking gets worse and the log starts vibrating.

Then shaking.

Then bouncing.

That’s when my foot slips off.

I’m off-balance, twisting as I start to fall, but I manage to catch myself by squatting, hands to the log for balance. Before easing my foot back up, the ax behind me swings my way and I can’t move fast enough to get out of the way. The corner catches me on the outside of my thigh since I’m at an angle, but luckily it doesn’t slice too deep.