Only the Destined by Morgan Rice

Author:Morgan Rice [Rice, Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Morgan Rice
Published: 2019-05-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Royce led the way across the island, the rock shifting with every step. Scraps of basalt gave way under his feet, while around him, the whole island seemed to breathe in waves of fire and superheated air.

“Careful!” Matilde called out, as hot water burst out of a geyser just ahead. Royce was already leaping back, while a shower of water struck Gwylim. The bhargir howled before shaking himself like a wet dog, the wounds already starting to heal.

“That was close,” Royce said. “Everyone, be careful. I think even the ground here is dangerous for us.”

The island seemed desperately close to being a living thing, and an angry one at that. The lava flows on the upper slopes seemed like blood flowing through veins, while the bursting of the geysers felt like the snorting of an angry bull. The whole place seemed angry, in fact, as if the very ground didn’t want them there.

As if in confirmation of that, the ground beneath their feet rumbled.

“Are we still on the right path?” Mark asked. He was keeping up, but only barely, while Bolis was moving slower behind, leaning on a branch from a twisted tree. There were greener ones here and there, in patches of dark soil so rich that Royce suspected almost anything could grow there, but most of the plants were blackened or petrified: stick like, spiny things that seemed almost skeletal.

“There’s another white stag ahead,” Royce said, pointing to a rock that had it scratched onto its surface. He and the others headed toward it.

Another rumble came beneath their feet, and now Royce thought he could feel the ground shifting.

“Forward!” he yelled. “Run!”

The others ran forward as quickly as they could, Matilde almost keeping up with Royce, Gwylim ahead of all of them. Neave and Mark followed shortly after them, but Bolis was slower. Royce saw the fissure starting to open up under the knight’s feet, and turned back without thinking, throwing himself forward as Bolis fell.

He felt his hand clasp around the knight’s wrist, and Royce lay there on the edge of a gap in the world that looked down on pools of lava. Bolis hung from his grasp, and while Royce could hold him there, he wasn’t sure he could haul him up.

“It’s all right,” Royce said. “I’ve got you.”

Then he felt himself starting to slip, his body moving forward, closer to the edge, dragged by Bolis’s weight. Bolis obviously felt it too, because the knight seemed to make a decision.

“Let me go, my king,” Bolis said.

“I’m not letting you go,” Royce said. “Hold on.”

“You need to let me go, or you’ll be dragged down too,” Bolis insisted. He started to struggle in Royce’s grip, and that struggle only pushed them both further toward the edge…

Then Royce felt weight pressing down across his legs, holding him in place. Gwylim was there, the bhargir’s weight more than enough to hold Royce still. Royce still couldn’t pull Bolis up, but at least he wasn’t sliding forward anymore.

Then Mark dropped into place beside Royce, held in place by the combined weight of Neave and Matilde.

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