The Boundless by Peter Newman

Author:Peter Newman [Newman, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2019-05-21T17:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

When Sa-at had watched Rochant fly, it looked easy. Of course, he’d never seen Rochant try to carry someone else. And Rochant’s armour shone bright like a star up close, whereas the armour he was wearing glowed like the last embers of a fire.

He was falling fast. Satyendra was gripping his wrists so tight it hurt, and with his arms locked straight down, there was little he could do to alter their trajectory.

They fell past the outer wall. Luckily, Satyendra had pushed them far enough away that they cleared the rocky skirt that flashed out at the base. As they passed that, they fell into a current of essence that wrenched at his wings. For a moment they slowed, even started to rise a little, and then they slipped sideways out of it and fell again, spinning crazily.

Satyendra was shouting at him but he couldn’t hear a word of it over the roaring wind. In the dark, he was just a shape. But there was something about the shape that he found unsettling.

If I was alone, I could do this, he thought.

He considered letting Satyendra go. After all, he hadn’t sworn any oaths, and he hadn’t made up his mind about Satyendra yet. Surely it was better that one of them survived?

‘I’m sorry!’ he shouted.

It was hard to tell if Satyendra understood, but the grip on his wrists tightened still further, threatening to crush the bones. Even if I let go, he won’t.

He tried kicking his legs and tilting his body, doing all he could to re-enter the currents, but it was an impossible task. Between the extra weight, the unfamiliar armour, and the constant spinning, he could barely see, let alone fly.

But, by chance, they fell back into the currents beneath the castle naturally. He felt the armour press painfully into his chest as their momentum was forcefully checked. Before he could process this, he was tossed about like a leaf in a storm, and it was all he could do not to throw up in his helmet.

All around him was dark, save for the castle’s lights that he glimpsed occasionally as he was flipped over and over.

Are they above me?

Below me?

Up and down ceased to have meaning. Time ceased to have meaning. His panic became a single moment in time, as constant as the pain in his arms and the tight clenching of his stomach.

And then, there was a more defined movement, as if the essence currents were some great beast that spat them out.

He felt a great jolt run through his body and then he was lying on his back. It took him a while to realize that his mind was spinning rather than the world. And it took a while longer than that for it to stop.

When he sat up, his shoulders, elbows, and wrists all protested. He didn’t care about them though, being too busy pulling off the helmet so that he could vomit without obstruction.

After having emptied his stomach, he felt much better, though the pain in his arms was suddenly much more pressing.

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