The Drowning City - Amanda Downum [112]
A touch of a charm lent her a burst of speed; she’d pay for it the next day, but now she needed the deer’s grace. Her mother’s presence surrounded her like a cloak of ice, chilling the sweat that ran down her back.
She thought she heard a shout below as she reached the edge of the crater, but couldn’t tell who it came from. With any luck the mages would all kill one another.
Crouching against the wind, she ran. The light was brighter now, and she kept her eyes averted. As she neared the northeastern side of the crater she heard Selei call her name.
The old woman waited a few yards down the slope, a pair of Dai Tranh warriors keeping watch. The wind was gentler there, though it still whistled sharply over the rocks.
“The mages are coming,” Xinai gasped, sinking to her knees in front of Selei. She let her night-eyes fade. “We need to hurry.”
Selei nodded and turned to her guards. “Leave us. And hurry down—I don’t know how quickly the mountain will wake.”
“What about you, Grandmother?”
“I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry about me.”
They nodded unhappily and started down, leaving behind a wooden box. Xinai could feel the magic humming inside it, hot and violent. The rubies, soon to be reunited with the mountain that charged them.
“You’ll have to leave soon too,” Selei said. “But I wanted to see you again, before this ends.”
“What—” Her mouth opened, closed again. A queasy chill settled in her gut. “No. You can’t—”
“It has to be done, and this is the price.” She shook her head. “I’m tired, Xinai. I’ve lost so many—my brothers and sisters, my childhood friends, even my children. I don’t want to end my days a dowager, a burden on the clan.”
“You’re no burden! You lead the Dai Tranh.”
“But not for much longer, I think. I may be a clever old witch, child, but even witches’ wits dull with age. I want to have a death that means something. That buys something.”
“Why not a life that means something?”
“I think I’ve had that.” She took Xinai’s hands in hers. “Don’t you?”
Xinai nodded. Her eyes prickled, pressure building behind her nose. “What about Riuh? You’re all he has left.”
“Look after him for me, then.”
Selei’s face blurred as Xinai blinked angrily. She couldn’t talk her out of this. “I will,” she choked. “I promise.”
“I wish you could have been mine by blood as you’ve been in my heart. But Cay Lin is lucky to have you.” She untied two charms from around her neck. “Give this to Riuh,” she said, tapping the larger. “This one is yours. There’ll be nothing left for the rites, but if you and he would sing for me when this is over…”
“We will.”
A tongue of flame uncoiled from the crater, washing the night carnelian and gold. The mountain was a hot pressure against all of Xinai’s senses, scraping her raw.
“It’s time,” said Selei. She knelt and took up the box of rubies. “The wards are failing. You should go.”
“I can’t let you go alone.”
“This will be a bitter enough victory—don’t make us lose another warrior to it. Run, child.”
Scrubbing her eyes, Xinai turned and started down the slope. Rocks slipped and scattered under her feet and tears blurred her already strained vision. She looked back once, saw the old woman picking her way carefully toward the top of the mountain, silhouetted against the cauldron’s glare.
The first tremor threw her down and she slid cursing through rock and brush before catching herself. She kept her footing through the next, but the path was treacherous.
She was scarcely a quarter down the slope when the night shattered into flame and ash.
Chapter 20
Zhirin was so busy staring at Mount Haroun that for an instant she didn’t understand where the roar was coming from. Then the sky blotted dark and Asheris twisted up and sideways, his impossible wings shredding the clouds. She screamed, gasped as his arm tightened around her ribs. She clutched at him as they spiraled farther away from the mountain, land