Seven Wardens: Books 1-4

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Izban watched in elation as Amber managed to direct electricity towards where they'd left the ruby. If only he could check it'd been destroyed. Anything to stop his grandfather from gaining power and upsetting the balance of the mage society. But without Amber, he couldn't get back up there.

He smiled to himself as he thought about their flight. It'd been exhilarating in a way he'd never expected, nor truly experienced before. Amber was a truly remarkable woman, and her skills in the air had allowed him to completely let go during their flight. He wasn't sure where his trust in her had come from, but he liked it, it meant he could truly enjoy her company.

And he couldn't wait to enjoy it more. Maybe he'd even take up a teaching post at Ben Vair. It wasn't like he could return home now. His grandfather would probably have him as a traitor.

He shook the thoughts away, and looked back up into the sky just as the last of the electricity was leaving Amber's body. It was a truly magnificent sight, and he was honoured to have had the opportunity to watch.

She hovered there for a moment, her majestic body swishing back and forth in the wind, her tail streaming out behind her. The surge of magic must have caused it to regrow. That was something at least. He smiled. She'd like having it back. He'd been able to tell how much it pained her to not have it.

He could understand. Missing a body part couldn't be a pleasant sensation, no matter which body part that was.

Suddenly, she dropped several feet through the air, and Izban's heart rose to his throat, thudding away there as concern began to build. She hadn't shown any signs of a loss of control while the two of them had been flying. Yet here she clearly had.

She dropped again, and he lurched forward, holding out his hands and trying to reach out to her. Which was ridiculous, he knew that. But something much bigger than either of them was propelling him further.

When she dropped again, the panic began to get way too much. Something was very, very, wrong up there.

This time, she fell. And he felt the rumble through the mountain floor as she hit the ground. Panic filled him and he really hoped her beithir form was strong enough to take the hit.

Even so, he found himself moving towards where she'd probably ended up, calling his aos sìth with a twist of his ring as he did. The creature would be incredibly pissed that he was being summoned again, but right now, Izban didn't care. Even if the creature turned on him after this it'd be worth it. Though it wouldn't. He'd just appease it with plenty of offerings.

"Lorg beithir," he demanded of the aos sìth. It looked at him, unimpressed, and c****d it's head to the side. Maybe it didn't recognise the reptile as an object. Which was fair. It wasn't. "Lorg Amber," he tried instead. The aos sìth thought for a moment, and then flew off into the night.

Hurriedly, Izban followed behind, not at all surprised that it wasn't long before the creature came to a halt. It flew round and round in a circle, chittering loudly.

The ground was dented, like something large had hit it. Something like a giant snake-dragon. "Amber," Izban whispered into the night. Where was she? There was next to no chance she'd been conscious after a fall like that. So she should be here. "Where is she?" he asked his aos sìth, who just pointed at the crater and spun around in a circle then.

Well, that was no help. None at all.

"Amber?" Izban called out into the night. But with the storm already calming, and the place being abandoned, it wasn't surprising no one answered.

Instead, an almost deathly silence filled the clearing. This wasn't good. And only one thought filled his head. He had to find her. If it was the last thing he did, he had to. He owed her that at the very least for helping him with a problem he didn't know existed.

Without thinking about it, he unsheathed the sgain-dubh he kept in his waistband. Not the traditional place to keep the dagger, he knew, but a traditional kilt would have been highly impractical given the situation. Not to mention, the knife may have aroused suspicion he didn't need.

He sliced the blade down his palm, and watched as the blood welled up there. His aos sìth chattered loudly in alarm, realising what it was he was doing, and the potential repercussions of it. Izban didn't let it stop him.

"Gheibh mi greim ort, Amber A' Bheithir," he swore. "I'll find you, Amber. I promise."

THE END

INTO THE MISTS