Mortal Gods by Sean Cannon

Author:Sean Cannon [Cannon, Sean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-01T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

The Absent Owner

Adrian

A burst of energy surged through Adrian’s body, making him run faster than he had ever dared imagine. Over his shoulder, the whimsical flicks of the wrist from the Black King, shot perfect spherical balls of magma towards them, but it was like he wasn’t bothered if they landed or not. Arianna and Avari lead the charge towards Adrian, but before long, Pauper leaped over the pair, galloping on all fours. The distance between them closed rapidly and by Pauper’s erratic path down the bridge, Adrian forced himself to crunch tighter to avoid the power from the Black King.

Pauper reached Adrian, but instead of the comforting embrace the young boy wanted, she leapt over his head and charged, growling and snarling furiously. Pauper ducked low under an effortless fire ball from the hooded figure, singeing the fur on her back as it passed. Adrian finally reached Arianna and Avari who were panting furiously but burst into his arms in adulation at his return. Wyland was some ways behind but approaching the group when they unhooked from one another’s arms.

“We thought you were –”

“I thought you were!” Adrian said, putting Iago down.

“What happened to your arm?!” Arianna gawked at the dirty bandages.

“No time!” Adrian said frantically.

“Are you hurt?” Wyland asked urgently as he pushed through Arianna and Avari. The mere sound of his voice was soothing in a way Adrian had not felt in the time he was away.

“No I’m fine, we need to help her!”

“Your arm?!” Wyland exclaimed.

“Wyland!” Adrian replied quickly pointing back down the bridge towards Pauper.

For such a mammoth creature, she moved with agility that was at odds with her frame. There was such graceful quickness, but also a ferocity that seemed to make a mockery of Adrian’s concern for her. The Black King had yet to nail her with a meaningful blow, but it could only be a matter of time. Wyland drew his eyes down the bridge about to speak before Adrian interrupted.

“Don’t tell me it’s for my safety! She’s my family!” He shouted at Wyland, pre-empting his calls to flee that Adrian knew were so close to slipping off the barrel of his tongue.

Before Wyland had a chance to convince him otherwise, Adrian turned and sprinted down the bridge, but he did not surge with the confidence that infected him through Tristan, but a burning sensation of fear. His heart throbbed in his ears and his mind was not the calming stream it needed to be, but Pauper was in trouble. He could hear both Arianna and Avari closely following behind, with the latter screaming for him to stop.

“Adrian!” Wyland’s voice was lost among the horrid weather.

Pauper was still nimble on her feet avoiding nonchalant attacks, but Adrian could see she was tiring. He forced his legs into overdrive, wind and rain lashing at his face.

“Adrian you are not prepared!” Tristan warned.

But it made no difference. He visualised a path of attack against the Black King. The drawn hood flicked in the wind, revealing the flashes of red that threatened Adrian’s will.

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