Page 160
Story: Ruins of Sea and Souls
A wry smile broke through as he folded his wings against his shoulders and turned back towards me.Did you just call me beautiful, cactus?
I burst out laughing, hooking my hand through his left arm as I started walking up the path. No others in sight here, and gods, the world was easy again. ‘Beautiful and a vain prick, yes. Why did you land here and not closer to the castle?’
Wasn’t sure if that shield would be visible to you, he signed, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.Slamming into walls mid-flight is a good way to lose teeth.
‘Bad for the pretty face.’
He let out a silent laugh.Quite.
We didn’t speak or sign much as we climbed the gradual slope, Alyra darting in wide circles around us like a feathery moon orbiting its planet. Creon pointed out the hot springs in the plain east of the castle. I remarked on the abundance of succulents and small cacti growing along the path. When we reached the plateau at the top of the cliff, he was the first to notice the remaining shards of stained glass in the vaulted windows and their multi-coloured impressions on the rocky ground, and once again I found myself wondering what the Cobalt Court had looked like at the height of its glory, before an arrogant half god had the unwise idea of getting himself killed nearby.
We passed into what must have been the gardens of the castle itself – muddy ponds, crumbling fountains, and a surprisingly lush orchard of apple trees. There was still no shield to be seen, and worry snuck back into my thoughts. What if Beyla had been mistaken? What if the Mother had predicted our next step and removed the bindings? What if we walked straight to the front gate of the castle – an iron-plated colossus that hung askew on its hinges – and found the hall behind filled with nothing but cobwebs and dust?
But there, between the branches and golden leaves …
A shimmer.
I ground to a halt, squinting at what looked so deceptively like the cloudy sky of an early autumn afternoon. There it was again, not unlike the faint iridescence of very fine organza – a flicker of colour against the pale blue, and then nothing.
Creon had stood still as well, watching me closely.
‘You don’t see it, do you?’ I already knew the answer. None of this strange surface magic had been visible to my companions. ‘Five, six strides before you— Alyra, please be careful not to fly into it …’
She threw me an indignant look as she looped around us once again.I’m a bird, that glare said,not an idiot.
Due to lack of such confidence, I walked slowly, hand stretched out before me to make sure I didn’t accidentally rid myself of my front teeth. I felt the magic the moment it collided with my fingertips – cool and silky, but as unbreachable as a massive castle wall. More unbreachable, perhaps. Most walls could be brought down as long as one had plenty of red at their disposal. This one …
I took a step back, lowered my hand to my black skirt, and sent an experimental spark of red magic into the invisible shield. It yielded a small crackle, a flash like a colourful lightning bolt, and no useful result whatsoever.
‘Interesting,’ I muttered, prodding the shimmering wall again.
Creon chuckled. When I glanced over my shoulder, he had sat down in the grass, legs crossed and wings lazily spread out behind his shoulders – quite like an audience member at a theatre preparing himself for a highly anticipated show.
I scowled at him. ‘Enjoying yourself?’
Oh, don’t mind me.His smile – dazzling, inhumanly gorgeous, and untamed like the landscape around us – said otherwise.Always a pleasure to see you work when you’re determined to solve something.
That took all the bite out of the offense I’d planned to take, damn him. I turned back to my target, cocked my head at the soft shimmer of magic, and contemplated my options. I could just let loose a storm of my own iridescence and hope that would break through whatever defences the Mother had created here. That would hardly be subtle, though, and knowing the bitch, it might be dangerous, too. What if the shield reflected my attacks right back into my face?
So I had to be careful – and to my own surprise, I didn’t mind much. There was something deeply intriguing about this application of magic I possessed but barely understood, a tempting taste of what I might one day be able to do.
‘I’m going to need softness,’ I said absently. ‘And iridescence. A lot of it.’
In a flicker of yellow, my dress turned a pearly sort of velvet – a fabric I was quite sure no one had ever dreamed up before.
‘We might just start a new fashion before this war is over,’ I added as I smoothed my fingers over the surface.
The rhythm of Creon’s breath betrayed a laugh, but I didn’t turn around to see his response. Using a brush of soft magic for movement, I lifted a fallen apple some fifteen feet away and flung it as hard as I could into the Mother’s shield.
It bounced back, the place of impact bruised as if someone had dropped a hammer on it.
That suggested I’d been wise not to use my fists to test the barrier. Breaking my fingers and wrists was not in the plans for that afternoon.
I spent a good hour experimenting, testing the properties of the Mother’s safety measures in any way I could imagine. The shield contained a lot of movement magic, I concluded after a while; nothing, not even air, seemed capable of breaking through it. Obviously, there was iridescence to cancel out my attacks, too, considering that none of my common colour magic had the slightest effect on the wall. I tried to figure out if it had any influence on the thoughts of passers-by – what if Beyla’s decision to shrug off her discovery and continue her journey was not entirely her own? But if there was any mind magic involved in the mix, I didn’t seem to be terribly susceptible to it. At no point was I suddenly overcome by a deep conviction that I was wasting my time in this place.
Creon, who had spent his time refreshing my magic sources and eating apples, looked content when I summarised my findings for him, then handed me an apple, too.
‘The question,’ I said, only now realising how hungry I’d grown, ‘is how I’m going to get through it.’
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160 (Reading here)
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176