Sheamab tilted Hiresha farther over the edge. “The key’s location, or you will watch the elder enchantress fall.”
Before the spellsword could answer, the fennec hopped on Hiresha’s side and sank his teeth into Sheamab’s toe. Whether the fox had sensed the enchantress’s hatred of the Bright Palm or the digits of her foot reminded him of knobby grubs, Hiresha could not know. Worry bolted through Hiresha that Sheamab would crush the fennec under her foot.
The fox leapt aside, and his tail was ruffled by a black slash of staff ripping through the air. The blow would have smashed him over the cliff. It all happened so fast that Hiresha wondered how he could have known to dodge it, how a tiny creature more endowed with cuteness than battle expertise could have outmaneuvered the Bright Palm mastermind.
She didn’t see him as a threat, and he was faster than her. For all the Bright Palm’s quickness of thought, the fennec had outpaced her with instinct. He followed his intuition.
A pin of regret lodged in Hiresha’s throat as she realized something else. If I had done the same, that staff wouldn’t have broken my leg. My jewels would still be on my person rather than stuck against the Skyway.
Hiresha strained her ears, trying to hear the pad of the fox’s feet under the wind. No scuffles alarmed her into thinking he had been caught. He must’ve escaped, the wonderful dear. She wanted to craft him a new necklace of golden topaz to congratulate him, and the thought that she would die before she would have the time pained her heart into beating in sharp jerks.
Fos choked out a laugh. “Don’t guess he liked the taste of you, Bright Palm. Can’t say I blame him. Hiresha, I…I think I have to leave you in the Fate Weaver’s arms.”
Is he really standing up to Sheamab?
“Don’t guess you’ll be safe no matter what I do.” Fos turned into a hunched-over silhouette, with the moon rising behind him, the pale disk between horizon and storm clouds. “I’ll always remember you, Hiresha.”
Hiresha was so proud of him that she was grinning when the Bright Palm lifted her foot. Part of Hiresha understood that Sheamab would kick her from the cliff now.
So be it.
A tingling burned over Hiresha’s skin, a breathless nearing of doom and terrible wonder. It reminded her of what she had felt around the Lord of the Feast. In that instant she wondered if Sheamab had stepped away not for a kick but because she too sensed a Feaster’s approach.
But that can’t be. Bright Palms never feel.
Hiresha heard a thump but felt only a nudge. The branching whiteness of Sheamab’s veins tumbled over the enchantress as the Bright Palm flipped feet over head and fell off the cliff.
Upside down, the Bright Palm whirled her staff into a battle pose and glanced to the amethyst bracelet on her arm. She shouted as she dropped farther into darkness.
“Stay back, Rommick.”
A snap of metal drew Hiresha’s gaze up, and she knew whom she would see. Copper feathers flared out as they filled with wind, and moonlight rippled over the dagger wings like flowing mercury. She could only guess Tethiel had swooped down and kicked the Bright Palm in the back.
The Lord of the Feast landed on the plateau beside her. “There’s nothing more powerful than the entrance.”
“I should’ve known your goodbye couldn’t be trusted.” Hiresha lifted her bound hands. “Now cut these off.”
Razor feathers breezed between Hiresha’s arms. The rope fell away. She felt the sting of cuts as well, but nothing too deep, she hoped.
“This way, my heart.” He cupped her with his wing, and a thrilling darkness washed over her. The relief from the respite contained her fury for him to a mere simmer. His magic concealed them, while their mirror images strode along the cliff in the other direction.
They moved away none too soon. Sheamab was a gale of light and spinning staff, on her way back up to the ledge. The amethysts on her arm shone the same hue as those on Mister Jewel Pox, who had kept his distance from the cliff. He had his bronze spikes in hand and eyes on the illusions of Hiresha and Tethiel.
The enchantress felt that she dragged a lead weight of joy. Resentment for her rescuer filled her with simmering guilt and itching relief. A man of treachery had saved her from dying, but Sheamab had beaten them an hour before, when Fos had his sword and Hiresha her jewels.
“Our odds have not much improved,” she said to Tethiel’s ear. “A sash of mine may have blown onto the Skyway. No, I know it did, but I can’t walk there without my red diamond.”
“Reach into my left boot. The other side.”
Hiresha’s fingers moved down a pant leg and under the smoothness of leather and into warmth, to touch something hard with three sides. So he did take it. She lifted the diamond in front of the moon, and a pinkish light shone on her face.
Heat welled within her, searing her with pangs of hope.
“The jewel sash still won’t help me, not until I find my garnets.” She spread five fingers, each with a divot from a missing gemstone.
A thump behind them warned of Sheamab landing on the plateau. The illusions on the other side of her dissolved into black dust, and her staff swept to point at the all-too-real footprints leading to Hiresha and Tethiel. Both Bright Palms raced toward them.
The enchantress and Feaster stepped under the gateway arch. Fos lay before them, his eyes sliding past them and their darkness.
“The garnets,” Tethiel asked her, “where are they?”
“The entrance hall, to the Ballroom.”
“Leave it to me, my heart.” With a wing he pushed her toward the Skyway.
Hiresha stood at a slant on the corner of the cliff, where the path curved downward. Her sense of perspective teetered. The plateau seeming to rise behind her, the plummet below leveling to a road. Her sash stood out on the silver-shining tiles. It looked but a dash away.
Only a hundred paces down a cliff, with enchantments strained to the breaking point. Tension raced up and down Hiresha, but her stomach unclenched when she heard another voice inside her. I’ll know where not to step. I won’t fall.
In the corner of her eye she saw another illusion of herself running along the cliff edge. A glance behind showed the rope binding Fos’s hands to his ankles severed by a shadow. Then the Bright Palms’ nearness stripped the darkness from Tethiel. He had to speed away, leaving Fos still tied about his greaves and his hands.
The spellsword swung his legs out, tripping Mister Jewel Pox. Fos rolled back on his shoulders, swinging his metal boots upward then down to smash the Bright Palm’s back.
The Bright Palm croaked something. Sheamab spun around to look at him, and in that moment of hesitation, Tethiel vanished. She charged Fos, staff lifted over her back like a scorpion’s tail.
Fos balanced onto his feet. When he didn’t seem to notice Sheamab, Hiresha screamed.
“Watch out!”
The spellsword did not glance at either woman. Bending his knees, roped hands held in front of him, he sprang in an enchanted leap higher than the reaching staff, above the Mind’s Gate, and landed in a tumbling roll of snow that seemed made of powdered moonbeams.
Sheamab hoisted the other Bright Palm to his feet then snapped her soulless gaze to a pair of fuzzy ears that bounded to the enchantress.
Hiresha reached out and caught the fennec. He sang to her in trills and exalted squeaks. The enchantress lifted her chin to the Bright Palm.
“No use following me now,” Hiresha said. “We both know the fox is your better.”
The Bright Palm ignored the generously given advice and charged. Snow exploded from her footfalls.
Hiresha held the fennec tight and dashed down the cliff.
43
The Skyway
A sense of death flared within Hiresha, and she skirted to the other side of the path, around the failing enchantment. Or such was her intent. Her foot slipped forward too far, and she felt herself flowing outward, the wind pulling at her Lightened body.
With her back foot still connect
ed to the Skyway, Hiresha leaned to safety. Then she had to sprint around the perilous spot to stay ahead of the cutting sounds of the staff. The enchantress’s feet went toe to heel as she balanced on the dark tiles marking the border of the road. Snow fell past her shoulders sideways, while more flakes gusted upward over her feet.
She stumbled back to the center of the road, the fennec pressed against her breast. He chirped at the moon, his ears curved at a similar angle to the crescent.
Hiresha dared not look back, not with Sheamab pounding after her. Then the slapping noise of sandaled feet stopped. The enchantress dared a glance. Sheamab was drifting away from the road.
The Bright Palm speared her staff forward, and it clicked against the road ahead of her and stuck. Sheamab climbed along its length. She reached the road again and rolled to her feet.
If only I had a jewel to throw at her then, Hiresha thought as she jogged the last distance to the sash. Her boots squeaked on the frosty surface as she grabbed it. Now all I need is a garnet to prime them, and one Bright Palm fewer bearing down on me.
Hiresha was still not afraid. The Skyway was clear except for herself and Sheamab. Apart from the horizontal flow of snow, the cliff appeared much like a flatlands of rock with the moon rising on the horizon. The enchantress faced the Bright Palm and stepped back once more. The distance felt right, and she decided to trust her intuition.
“All this time,” Hiresha said, “your reasoning has been flawed.”
The staff snaked forward in the Bright Palm’s hands. The upward strike was aimed to launch Hiresha off the cliff road.
“It’s not the first move that matters, but the last.”
The collar on Sheamab’s arm glowed, and her feet were ripped from the Skyway. She had attempted to go too far from the corresponding amethyst bracelet. The staff swished in front of Hiresha’s nose. Sheamab was towed away. The Bright Palm skated on her side, staff scrawling forward and back on the tiles.
The fennec barked at her all the way, twitching in Hiresha’s hands with each burst of noise. Hiresha scratched his chin while she fitted the red diamond into the sash. She had no more time to enjoy the sight of Sheamab being pulled against her will. At the top of the Skyway, she saw the flash of metal wings of Tethiel buffeting Mister Jewel Pox.
Minna ran past them both, clutching something with hands bobbing before her. She shrieked when Sheamab slid by, slapping her with the staff. In the snare of the collar’s Lightening enchantment, the Bright Palm hit with only the strength of a cattail. The girl Feaster ran on down the Skyway, tears darkening her veil.
Tethiel is compelling her, Hiresha thought. “Minna, stop! You’ll fall.”
The enchantress ran toward her. The girl dropped to her knees, shuddering, but then she glanced behind. A young Bright Palm with a long nail—Alyla—was chasing her. Minna scrambled to her feet, took three more steps, then floated into the air. Both her hair and her head thrashed in the wind. Her fingers splayed out, and a speck of gemstone flew from them.
Hiresha may have added a scream to the girl’s shrilling. She leaned in, caught Minna’s ankle. Whirling around, she tried to spot where the garnet had flown, but the nearing shine of Alyla forced her to turn back.
The young Bright Palm leapt and gripped Minna’s shoulder. A streak of moonglow crossed over the six inches of nail as Alyla drew it back for a stab.
Hiresha yanked on Minna, pulling both girls back onto the Skyway. They tumbled over each other, nail sparking off tile. Hiresha kicked the white-veined hand gripping Minna.
“The garnet,” Hiresha said to Minna, “did it land on the Skyway?”
Alyla lunged, and the enchantress snatched the girl’s arm holding the nail. Hiresha tried to force her back, only realizing her own mistake when Alyla bore a fearless strength against her. The nail dug into Hiresha’s arm, and the enchantress collapsed backward.
White veins pulsed in branching patterns around a face so familiar and strange. The enchantress had brought Alyla thousands of miles to the Academy, had enjoyed tea with her countless times. Now the girl stood over her with a nail, and Hiresha had no idea what Alyla would do.
She cocked back the spike. Before she could thrust downward, metal greaves whooshed by, her brother following and catching her around the waist. She was pulled off her feet and into his fall.
Alyla and Fos sped sideways in Hiresha’s perspective, but she had to think the spellsword had cut away his bonds and jumped off the cliff to plunge straight down the Skyway. The bold technique more than impressed Hiresha. She was equally pleased to see the jasper sword in the arm opposite his sister. He swung the Lightened weapon then released its weight, and its momentum pulled him onto the Skyway.
“My sister would never have hurt Hiresha.”
Fos rested Alyla onto the tiles but held her there with a greave pressing down on her waist. Grim determination compressed his features, his mouth small, his brows touching.
“Now stay down, or I’ll put you down again.”
“She is shielding Feasters.” Alyla pushed against the plated boot on top of her. “She must—”
“Down, I said.” Fos nudged her back once more then turned away. “Or we’ll both regret it. At least I will.”
Hiresha shuffled across the Skyway on her knees, searching. “Minna, did you see the wind blow the garnet against the cliff? The garnet you dropped.”
Minna gasped on her side, staring at her open hands.
“But of course you wouldn’t have seen, not with a Bright Palm bearing down on you. Regretfully, that’s Sheamab running toward us, and matters will become excruciatingly awkward for all involved if I don’t find that garnet.” Hiresha realized she was babbling but could not seem to stop herself. “You could say that if I don’t, all this will have amounted to nothing.”
“Would this help?” Minna plucked a jewel from her palm. It left an indentation from where her terrified grip had pressed it into her skin. “I found two gems.”
Hiresha snatched the garnet, which shone the color of dusk. It felt as if her heart cracked open into glittering joy like a split geode revealing its crystals for the first time. The fennec yipped in pleasure. She tucked him under one arm. In the other, she curled the priming garnet beneath her middle finger and reached for her sash.
Fos hurled himself past her to engage Sheamab. She was a snapping flurry of staff, he a wall of jasper. Hiresha waited on her throw. I’ll know when the moment is right.
“Bright Palm Alyla.” Sheamab balanced on one toe and pivoted around her staff. “Throw yourself off the road. The spellsword will follow to rescue you, and in that time I’ll abolish the Feasters.”
“Through sacrifice, victory.” Alyla dropped her nail and leaped off the Skyway, arms outstretched behind her.
The spike tipped downward. The girl followed in kind, her hair flowing in one direction and her body going in the other.
The enchantress had no desire to see the girl she had once cared for smashed into the valley floor. And it might destroy her brother.
“Ahhh!” Fos howled but continued his fight against Sheamab. “Hiresha, do something.”
She already had. Her jewel struck the girl, Lightened her. Alyla flowed past them, up the cliff in the tide of the wind. She slipped out of sight above the plateau.
“She’ll live,” Hiresha said. “After a fashion.”
The staff bent in its speed. Sheamab seemed to remember the safe places to stand, and she kept the spellsword between herself and Hiresha’s gems. Once, Fos stepped on an unfortunate tile and began drifting outward in the air. He jerked himself to the side and back down again by activating Burdening enchantments in his sword and greaves, only suffering a glancing blow from Sheamab.
“Come,” Hiresha said, gripping Minna’s hand. She led the girl past the combatants, up the Skyway to its crest. The enchantress understood that if Sheamab had a weakness, it lay in Mister Jewel Pox. Without the protection of her amethyst collar, she would be vulnerable.
The
woman and girl hurried around the dangerous stretches of road. Hiresha worried that Sheamab would find a hole in Fos’s defenses all too soon.
Mister Jewel Pox waited for them with his spikes jutting past his thumbs. When Hiresha leaned forward, over the top of the Skyway and onto the plateau, he lunged for her. The points of his nails gleamed white.
Tethiel sliced out of the shadows with razors warping the air with their heat. The molten onslaught forced the Bright Palm to duck to the side. Wing blades scraped against the nails, peeling off curls of metal.
“Now, my heart!”
Hiresha was close to the Bright Palm. And she had another deadly azurite.
This jewel had to contact skin. She stepped to him, reaching out to touch him with a teardrop stone colored the blue of winter’s menace.
The Bright Palm whirled and plunged a spike through her wrist. Her arm crumbled into dry shadows then blew away, illusion that it was. Hiresha could not know whether Tethiel or Minna had aided her with their magic, but her true arm appeared above the false one and pressed the deadly azurite against the Bright Palm’s massive jaw.
“For burning my workshop,” Hiresha said and backed away. Her outstretched arm protected Minna as well.
Nails plopped onto the snow. The Bright Palm tumbled down, knees and legs curled up toward the azurite. His hands were plastered over his face. The enchantment had similarities with her typical Attraction spells, except this one was lethal.
The blood vessels visible in his body all tore and burst. Light soaked out of his hands, poured out his nose and mouth. His eyes erupted. Glittering water was squeezed out of every inch of skin, all pooling in a globe expanding between his shriveling fingers.
His body collapsed in on itself. His skin dried to parchment. The enchantment had mummified him, all fluids and magic extracted from his body into the rippling orb. After the light in the sphere dimmed, the azurite could be seen bobbing at the center.
Hiresha said, “So a man may have one too many jewels after all.”
The fennec had hid his face in the crook of her arm. He warbled softly to himself.
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