Bound by Darkness - Alexandra Ivy [77]
Ariyal’s lips twisted.
There was a mutiny brewing.
Did Tearloch know how close he was to losing his few tribesmen?
“The sooner we uncover the altar the sooner the wizard can complete the resurrection and the sooner he can be banished,” Elwin muttered.
“Always assuming that Tearloch hasn’t lost complete control,” Toras pointed out with a bleak resignation.
“Shit. Just get back to work.”
The voices faded and Ariyal sat back on his heels.
Altar?
It made sense.
Those who worshiped the Dark Lord often used altars to make their sacrifices. The blood was a conduit that allowed them to thin the walls that separated them from their evil master.
Obviously Rafael needed his altar to complete the ceremony.
That was all the information Ariyal needed.
Tossing aside his bow, he shoved his fingers into the crack. The rock scraped off his skin, but he ignored the blood that threatened to make his grip slippery and yanked with all his strength.
He wasn’t a troll who could tunnel through rock with his brute strength, but the floor was already unstable and the exact pressure in the weakest spot was enough to make the stone buckle beneath his feet.
Snatching up his bow, Ariyal darted toward the outer tunnel, leaping across the gaping chasm that abruptly appeared as the collapse picked up speed at an alarming rate. Bloody hell. He had expected a minor cave-in, not a landslide.
He sent up a brief prayer that his brothers would manage to find safety. Whatever their sins, he hoped that they could eventually put the past behind them and be reunited as a tribe. There were too few of them to allow petty resentments to separate them.
Then all thoughts of his brothers were forgotten as he at last reached solid ground and sought a passageway that would lead him up and out of the caverns.
Following the faint scent of fresh air, he was desperate to leave behind the choking cloud of dust that billowed through the tunnels. Obviously too desperate, since he was unprepared when Tearloch abruptly darted from a side tunnel to block his path.
“Tearloch,” he growled, skidding to a reluctant halt at the sight of his tribesman.
Good ... gods.
The younger Sylvermyst looked like shit.
His hair was tangled and hung limply down his back, his skin was a strange, grayish hue, and there were bruises beneath his eyes that revealed he hadn’t slept in far too long.
Obviously the effort to keep control of Rafael was taking its toll on him.
Or was it the damned spirit draining Tearloch’s power?
Either way, it was a dangerous situation that might very well kill the Sylvermyst if something wasn’t done.
Soon.
A pity he wasn’t about to let Ariyal help him.
Not if the hectic glow in the silver of his eyes and the big-ass sword he was currently pointing at Ariyal’s heart were any indication.
“I should have suspected that you would manage to cause trouble no matter how clever our plans,” Tearloch growled.
Ariyal forced a stiff smile to his lips. He had wanted to be a distraction, hadn’t he?
It looked as if he was roaring success.
Yippee ki yay.
“You know me, I can’t resist crashing a party.” He glanced down at the dust covering him from head to toe. “Sometimes literally.”
Tearloch’s jaw locked even as he tried to look as if he was indifferent to the considerable damage.
“It’s annoying, but nothing that can’t be repaired.”
Ariyal smiled. “In time.”
The silver eyes narrowed. “So you sacrificed yourself just to delay the inevitable?”
“But it isn’t inevitable, Tearloch.” Ariyal held his companion’s gaze. “Your mind has been twisted by those who only want to use you for their own glory.”
“No.” Tearloch shook his head with more force than necessary. “It’s your mind that has been twisted. That vampire has seduced you and stolen you from those who have always offered you their loyalty.”
Ariyal grimly refused to allow his thoughts to stray to Jaelyn. This wasn’t the time for distractions.
“But your loyalty wasn’t unwavering, was it?” he reminded his