out? He thought not.
Instead he searched the new knowledge he’d wrestled from the mages. It was strange, he did not feel as though he’d learned anything new, but he could remember things about the Citadel, things he hadn’t known before. And he thought there was a way out, after all.
‘I’m going to bring the ceiling down,’ he told them.
‘
What?
’ The portion of Wydrin’s face that was not covered in blood was milk white. ‘Did that little soak in the lake soften your brain?’
‘Just watch, and be ready to run.’
The simmering ball of light and noise had already begun to grow again in his belly. Frith looked up at the ceiling and tried to see it clearly. The smoke from the fire and the height of the cavern made that difficult, but he knew it was there, and the mages knew its weaknesses. He reached out with his mind and he could
feel
the cracks up there, rents and fissures torn by the passage of time. For thousands of years the cavern had supported the weight of the Citadel, for thousands of years it had been strong, solid. And now it was time for it to come down.
Light leapt up out of his hands before he even knew what he was doing, and this time it looked like forked lightning, brilliant and white. It travelled up to the distant ceiling and licked along the surface. For a few seconds they could all see it – black rock and weathered stalactites lit up in harsh blacks and whites – and then it was gone. Wydrin was letting fly a long series of colourful curses. Frith took a deep breath. He needed to concentrate.
Let’s see what I can do.
Heat streamed out of Frith’s fingers towards the ceiling. His heart raced inside his chest so fast that he could hardly breathe, and for a brief second he could feel the broken surface of the ceiling under his fingertips. The fissure was a dark, secret place; he could sense the emptiness behind the rock, the places where the stone was weak. All it took was a little pressure …
Wydrin closed her eyes against the blinding light, but they were soon forced open again when a series of small explosions turned the lake into a frenzy of waves. There was an ear-splitting crash and suddenly it was as though they were being lifted towards the ceiling on a surge of water. It was only when the scaled warriors began to shriek that she realised it was the ceiling coming down towards them.
She flung herself over Sebastian’s body, painfully aware that such last-minute heroics were pointless, and then it all went black.
It was the sun that woke her. It was a gentle, warm hand on her head, and for a few moments she imagined she was back on the deck of the
Haven’s Champion
, sailing on a hot day. She even fancied she could taste the salt …
Wydrin opened her eyes to blue sky and rubble. The Citadel, having stood for thousands of years, was now a mountain of broken masonry and shattered red brick. Pulling herself to her feet she saw that they had been thrown down onto the Sea-Glass Road. Frith was there, standing and looking down at his hands like he’d never seen them before, and Sebastian was lying a few feet away. Of the Culoss there was no sign. They were all covered in a thick layer of dust.
‘What did you do?’
Frith looked up at her. The long twisting scar from his face was gone, and he was standing straight and true, but his hair was still bone-white.
He looked like he was trying to formulate an answer, but then Wydrin noticed something behind him, in the ruins of the Citadel. Red against red.
She ran back up the Sea-Glass Road, weaving through the debris and ignoring the throbbing in her head. Amongst the broken stones of the Citadel were four equally broken bodies, dressed in brown leather armour. A shattered spear still poked from the hand of one of them.
‘The guards,’ she said. Her stomach turned over slowly. ‘They’re all dead, just look at them. Didn’t the Culoss say …?’
A tremendous roar from below caused the words to die in her throat.
Instead he searched the new knowledge he’d wrestled from the mages. It was strange, he did not feel as though he’d learned anything new, but he could remember things about the Citadel, things he hadn’t known before. And he thought there was a way out, after all.
‘I’m going to bring the ceiling down,’ he told them.
‘
What?
’ The portion of Wydrin’s face that was not covered in blood was milk white. ‘Did that little soak in the lake soften your brain?’
‘Just watch, and be ready to run.’
The simmering ball of light and noise had already begun to grow again in his belly. Frith looked up at the ceiling and tried to see it clearly. The smoke from the fire and the height of the cavern made that difficult, but he knew it was there, and the mages knew its weaknesses. He reached out with his mind and he could
feel
the cracks up there, rents and fissures torn by the passage of time. For thousands of years the cavern had supported the weight of the Citadel, for thousands of years it had been strong, solid. And now it was time for it to come down.
Light leapt up out of his hands before he even knew what he was doing, and this time it looked like forked lightning, brilliant and white. It travelled up to the distant ceiling and licked along the surface. For a few seconds they could all see it – black rock and weathered stalactites lit up in harsh blacks and whites – and then it was gone. Wydrin was letting fly a long series of colourful curses. Frith took a deep breath. He needed to concentrate.
Let’s see what I can do.
Heat streamed out of Frith’s fingers towards the ceiling. His heart raced inside his chest so fast that he could hardly breathe, and for a brief second he could feel the broken surface of the ceiling under his fingertips. The fissure was a dark, secret place; he could sense the emptiness behind the rock, the places where the stone was weak. All it took was a little pressure …
Wydrin closed her eyes against the blinding light, but they were soon forced open again when a series of small explosions turned the lake into a frenzy of waves. There was an ear-splitting crash and suddenly it was as though they were being lifted towards the ceiling on a surge of water. It was only when the scaled warriors began to shriek that she realised it was the ceiling coming down towards them.
She flung herself over Sebastian’s body, painfully aware that such last-minute heroics were pointless, and then it all went black.
It was the sun that woke her. It was a gentle, warm hand on her head, and for a few moments she imagined she was back on the deck of the
Haven’s Champion
, sailing on a hot day. She even fancied she could taste the salt …
Wydrin opened her eyes to blue sky and rubble. The Citadel, having stood for thousands of years, was now a mountain of broken masonry and shattered red brick. Pulling herself to her feet she saw that they had been thrown down onto the Sea-Glass Road. Frith was there, standing and looking down at his hands like he’d never seen them before, and Sebastian was lying a few feet away. Of the Culoss there was no sign. They were all covered in a thick layer of dust.
‘What did you do?’
Frith looked up at her. The long twisting scar from his face was gone, and he was standing straight and true, but his hair was still bone-white.
He looked like he was trying to formulate an answer, but then Wydrin noticed something behind him, in the ruins of the Citadel. Red against red.
She ran back up the Sea-Glass Road, weaving through the debris and ignoring the throbbing in her head. Amongst the broken stones of the Citadel were four equally broken bodies, dressed in brown leather armour. A shattered spear still poked from the hand of one of them.
‘The guards,’ she said. Her stomach turned over slowly. ‘They’re all dead, just look at them. Didn’t the Culoss say …?’
A tremendous roar from below caused the words to die in her throat.
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