Chapter Thirty...

“Are we sure the wards are down?” Elda asked for the twentieth time since they’d approached the base of the mountain. Gira and Julian walked beside them, Julian leading Syd. She was reluctant to go further, tugging against the reins with every step. The mine opened up before them, its yawning entrance drawing in the sunlight and swallowing it.

“Yes, they’re down. If you ask me that one more time I’m going to drop you in the lake,” Sypher muttered.

“I’m just making sure,” she answered defensively. He began to walk towards the mine entrance again when something tugged at Elda, making her grab his gloved hand. The others stopped when he did. “Wait!”

“What is it?” he frowned.

“I don’t think we should go in there,” she replied slowly. “Something is telling me it’s a bad idea. I’m fairly sure we’ll end up like Crixus.” He looked back at the entrance for a moment before studying Elda’s face. Eventually, he nodded.

“Then what do we do?”

“We could go up,” Julian suggested with a shrug. “Are there any other entrances?”

“To a mountain?” Sypher asked doubtfully. “Are you expecting to find houses and a tavern up there?”

“No, I just figured it was worth a shot,” the Vampire retorted, elbowing him. Elda felt Gira watching her curiously while she peered up towards the clouds, remembering the premonition and how she’d somehow appeared at its summit when she looked up.

“Julian’s right,” she cut in, stopping the bickering before it could go further. “We have to go up.”

“You’re sure?” the Soul Forge asked. She nodded. “Alright. I’ll lead us up there. Jules, keep Syd on my heels and don’t drop my Keeper.”

“Technically, I’ve dropped her less than you.” Sypher shot him a withering glare. “Alright! I promise I won’t drop her.”

“I don’t see any entrances below the cloud cover on this side,” Gira mused, lifting a hand to shade his eyes against the morning sun peeking through the white tufts. “What do we do if you have to fly higher?” He was dressed in a sleeved tunic to combat the cold, his bulging muscles hidden for the first time since Elda had met him.

“Hold your breath and don’t let go of me.” Sypher unleashed his wings and turned to let Gira onto his back, waiting until Julian and Elda were seated on Syd’s saddle before leaping into the air and flying straight up. The tulpar demon followed, snorting with the effort of carrying two passengers up a vertical incline.

It was fine at first, if a little cold, but the air grew thinner when they broke the cloud cover and Elda’s breathing became uneven. Air gasped through Syd’s lungs and Julian reached down to pat her heaving sides.

“Hold on, girl,” he soothed. The air grew thinner still, until spots danced in front of Elda’s eyes, her panting breaths barely bringing in enough oxygen to keep her conscious. She could see Sypher and Julian struggling up ahead. It felt like they flew for a very long time before anything changed.

Instinct made Elda turn, scanning the impossibly high mountainside until a glint caught her eye. Something white was set into the wall, something that hadn’t formed naturally.

“There!” she called out over the wind, her shout breathless as she struggled to fill her lungs. “There’s something over there!” Sypher turned to look where she was pointing and nodded, angling his wings to glide towards it. Syd followed, valiantly pursuing Sypher until he landed on a narrow ledge, barely wide enough to fit all of them. The tulpar demon struggled to land safely but eventually Elda was able to dismount, her feet touching the ground precariously close to the edge of the steep drop.

“I can breathe again,” she realised, sucking in a lungful of air like a starving man finding his first morsel of food. The others did the same, breathing heavily to compensate for their discomfort.

“Okay, what is that?” Julian asked, peering up at the wall behind them. It was pure moonstone, carved with symbols written in a language Elda had never seen before. A thin slit, barely as wide as a strand of hair, ran down the middle.

“I think it’s a door,” Elda murmured, reaching out to touch it. There were no handles, no mechanisms to grant entry. It stayed firmly shut when she pushed it. Gira and Julian tried as well, both of them pressing their shoulders against it and heaving to no avail.

“A little help, Saviour of Valerus?” Julian asked wryly. Sypher didn’t answer, staring up at the door with a ridge between his brows.

“Are you alright?” Elda questioned gently, laying a hand on his arm. The contact seemed to bring him back to the present and his fiery eyes turned down to look at her.

“I feel like I’ve been here before,” he murmured. She watched him step away from her touch and approach the pale doorway. It towered over him, at least ten feet in height, yet when he slipped off his glove and laid a hand on the carvings it swung open like it weighed nothing. Sypher blinked. “I’m starting to get a bad feeling about this.”

“How did you do that?” Julian frowned. “You barely touched it.”

“I don’t know.” He stepped through it and into the courtyard from Elda’s premonition. Her steps faltered when she saw the rivulets of red dripping down the walls, running off into the same worn channels in a crimson river that disappeared into the bowels of the mountain.

“Tears of blood,” she whispered, taking Sypher’s hand to stop him. Something twisted in her heart when she looked at him and saw the demon staring back alongside him. “Don’t go through that arch on your own,” she pleaded. “We need to do this together. All three of us.”

“Alright.” He squeezed her fingers gently. “This place has Vel wanting to bolt.”

“It has all of us wanting to bolt,” Gira replied, glancing at Julian trying to coax Syd further across the courtyard. The floor was the same white and gold mosaic, faded by a coating of dirt. The petrified trees stood in their ancient planters, a few of them broken and scattered along the ground. Foreboding settled heavily in Elda’s stomach.

“I don’t want to be here,” she admitted, her eyes straying to the pitch black archway at the far end of the decaying courtyard. The phantom screams of her premonition made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “Whatever is through there is horrible.”

“It’s also the reason we’re here. We have to go in,” Sypher told her. “I’m right here with you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She looked up at him and swallowed, fear tightening its grip on her heart when he smiled faintly.

“It’s not me that I’m afraid for, Sypher.”

His smile became rueful. “I know.” He turned again, intending to go through the arch when a voice from behind them froze him in place.

“Sypher, my little pet,” the voice trilled, floating from the doorway they’d opened. “I’ve been trying to get in here for days with no luck. Thank you for opening the door for me.”

Elda turned to see a woman with flame red hair sauntering away from the ledge, a wicked looking dagger at her hip. Eyes as bright as gems were framed by long, dark lashes, glittering green and filled with malice.

“Cynthia,” Sypher growled, turning to face her. He moved Elda behind him protectively and the hiss in his voice reminded her that Vel was close by. “What are you doing here?”

“The same thing you are, I assume.” The Witch’s head tilted, a smile crossing her lips when her eyes fell on Elda. “Ah, this must be your newest charge. It’s a shame she won’t be leaving this mountain alive.”

“Keep dreaming, Witch,” Julian snapped, backing up to stand in front of Elda as well. Gira flanked Sypher on his other side, all of them drawing their weapons. Syd nudged protectively against the elf and hissed at the newcomer.

“Oh, I do love a good fight. Come and get me, boys.” Cynthia leapt into action, her knife blurring when she clashed with Gira first. Black ooze seeped from her hands to form a whip that she lashed and snapped, raising welts across his skin wherever it touched. The Shifter swung his sword but it was too heavy to keep up with the lightning fast strikes of the whip.

“She’s a Necromancer!” Elda gasped, watching it thicken and Cynthia’s moves grow faster with each passing second. Whatever was through the archway, death surrounded it. Lots and lots of death. The Corrupted breathed in the sorrow like she was admiring a bouquet of flowers, her magic flourishing as she fended off Gira and Julian with ease.

“Stay back. No shooting, no joining in. Stay. There.” Vel was speaking to her now, fully in control. His teeth sharpened, black veins spreading beneath his skin as his left hand ignited in flames, his right tightening around the hilt of his weapon. “Keep her safe,” he told Syd, and then he was hacking at Cynthia as well.

Vel cut through the whip with his sword, only for it to writhe around and snag Julian’s ankle, tossing him at the nearest wall before reconnecting itself to the part in the Witch’s hand and rounding on Gira. The Shifter dove out of the way, the whip slicing through a planter like it was made of butter.

Cynthia cackled and slashed with her blade, forcing them back despite being outnumbered, and then the weapon lit with sizzling green fire that she cast out in a wave around her, swiping the dagger in an arc. Vel snapped his palm and redirected it with the air before it could singe Syd’s hide, snarling and rocking Cynthia’s head back with a punch hard enough to crack stone. The Corrupted laughed and spat blood onto the ground.

Julian and Gira came at her again, but they were waylaid by the appearance of a Wraith only just small enough to fit through the huge moonstone door, both of them taken off their feet when it plowed into them. Elda couldn’t understand how none of them had noticed the pursuit of the giant bird, but she didn’t have time to ponder over it. The Wraith smashed Julian against a wall and narrowly missed Gira’s head with its dangerous beak.

“It’s not as good as flying with you, but the Wraiths serve their purpose well enough,” Cynthia goaded the Soul Forge with a grin, her teeth stained red by her bleeding lips.

“You talk too much.” Vel spun, hitting her with a roundhouse kick that sent her skidding across the tiled floor. She hopped back to her feet and launched herself at him, their blades clashing in a flurry of snarls and clanging metal. The flaming blade lit up again, searing Vel’s cheek and forcing him back a step. She kicked out his knee and slammed the hilt of her blade down on his shoulder, forcing him into a crouch.

Gira and Julian dove away from the grasping claws of the Wraith just as Vel uncoiled and launched himself at Cynthia’s waist, slamming into her hard enough to knock the air out of her. Julian gripped her hair when she staggered and yanked it towards him, tossing her aside while she was still winded. Gira swung his broadsword and opened a slash in the wing of the Wraith, drawing a pained shriek from it.

Cynthia snarled and changed tactics, sending a stream of poisonous fire streaking from her Soul Blade right towards Syd. The tulpar demon screamed when it struck her flank, knocking her aside with its force and barreling towards Elda, searing down the length of her arm with enough heat to make her feel nauseous.

Her skin bubbled, the sleeve of her tunic catching fire as well. She cried out and slapped at the fire until it went out, the charred remnants of her sleeve smeared into her burned skin. She was on her knees, tears blurring her vision as she shuffled over to Syd and tried to calm her.

Vel roared and punched, dropping Cynthia like a lead weight. She fell beneath a barrage of heavy blows as the demon tried to beat her to death. The Wraith slipped away from Gira, slapped Julian in the face with its massive wing and ripped Vel from its rider with its curving talons, one of them piercing his shoulder. He grunted and swung his sword, lopping off the foot that was holding him and hitting the ground in a roll. The Wraith ignored him, picking up Cynthia’s bleeding body in its remaining talons and retreating from the mountain with a bone-shaking cry.

“Shut that fucking door,” Vel commanded through gritted teeth, running across the courtyard to drop to his knees beside Elda. She was draped over Syd’s prone form with her eyes closed, tears pouring down her face. He slipped off his glove and laid his bare hand against her blistered neck, his eyes following the path the fire had taken across her ravaged skin. “It’ll be alright, varro,” he promised. “I’m here.”

She whimpered when his magic reached her, sweeping through her and cooling the fire that boiled in her fingertips, scorching up her arm and across her throat. Her blisters receded, mirroring themselves on Vel’s skin when her pain transferred to him. Her eyes opened when her injuries faded, filled with unshed tears that spilled down her unmarked cheeks. She saw the blisters bubbling across his face instead. They were fading already, but she knew the pain that came with them.

He turned to Syd, more burns eating through the flesh of his hip and thigh as he healed her too. Vel didn’t wait for his skin to repair before he stood and turned, intending to follow Cynthia out of the courtyard and gut her.

“No.” Elda caught his hand, making sure to grab the one that didn’t sport the burns he’d taken on to fix her. “Leave her, Vel. Please. I need you here.” Her voice trembled, her blue eyes wide and desperate. “We’ll have our chance for retribution later. Please don’t leave me.” He knelt beside her again, his brow furrowed.

“Alright, varro. I’m here.” His fingertips brushed her freshly healed cheek. “I’m with you.”