Page 98 of The Chains You Defy

With the greatest effort, I willed the minuscule remnants of my power to maintain the tendril keeping Nayana company, using the feel of her skin under my magic to anchor me to the present, to life, even though I’d require every single drop for myself for what was about to come.

Because I was under no illusion that Galrach would be satisfied with simply letting me stew in excruciation.

“I am curious about how much your power has grown with your new acquisition. See, Scriosta, you were gone for so long, the pits filled up nicely and are now overflowing. So, you better use everything you can, or—”

Galrach didn’t finish his threat, and he didn’t have to.

Dread was dragging its icy fingers down my spine. My panic intensified when the High King withdrew to the warded area of the cavern—alone—leaving Nayana all out in the open in what would likely become pandemonium at any moment.

And I was right. I had barely time to yank at Naya’s Potential. Her surprised gasp cut through me worse than any blade could, and I scarcely succeeded in erecting a barrier around her slight form before a gaggle of monsters literally rained down from the ceiling on us.

A cacophony of snarls, growls, and screams was joined by a multitude of foul stenches insulting my sense of smell.

Thump, thump, thump—the dropping noises simply didn’t stop. Typically, Galrach sent a maximum of two beasts against me when I was restricted in movement and magic—and that was when the rot wasn’t afflicting me too—but today, when the downpour stopped, I’d counted to ten. My grandfather meant business.

Fuck.

There was no other choice but to pull harder at Naya’s Potential to try to cancel the hematite’s efforts to render me powerless. Making sure the shield around her was strong enough—I wish I could have spared her from seeing what was coming, but since I utilized her powers, her gaze would be able to penetrate the dark cocoon—I clenched my jaw as I analyzed my enemies.

I wasn’t too worried about the five Arrachts. Their self-healing powers and thick skin were nothing more than a nuisance that I could circumvent. At least, if I could gather a sufficient amount of magic to slay them in one big hit and avoid blacking out from overexploiting myself.

The three Fultachs—their skin resembling something that had been pulled out of a swamp after winters of decomposing in there—would be more challenging to kill. But since they had neither arms nor legs, only a roughly eight-foot-long body like an overgrown snail with the speed to match, they were lower on my list of things to worry about—no matter how dangerous and razor-sharp their teeth were. No, what unsettled me most was the Wailos stalking toward me—after all, if its poisonous tail stung me, Iwould be dead.

Oh—

Was that—

No, fuck the gods—

The Wailos was nothing but faeling’s play.

Break free.

Now.

An iron fist clamped around my stomach as my gaze fell on the winged female’s body, partly obscured by white glowing mist, her beautiful features contorted in something akin to despair, insanity burning in her seemingly bottomless eyes.

How in the gods’ names did my grandfather get hold of an Ainsprid, and why the fuck did he settle for pitting her against me? Especially considering the luminance surrounding her, the female must be one with an elemental affinity for light, which made fighting her with my darkness double as hard. Her kind sucked the magic right out of a Wielder until they died, and with me shackled like I was, on the verge of passing out, in delirious pain, and with me and her being opposing elements, she’d have no problem overpowering me in a heartbeat and using my energy as her next tasty meal.

Ainsprids had always been rare, but lately, they’d been sighted more often, wreaking havoc on fae wherever they appeared. There were rumors that their birth was connected to the dwindling number of ancients.

Gods, this wasn’t the place to dwell on the origins ofthemonster best equipped to send me to Udiona.

My shock had cost me precious seconds, and one of the Arrachts had taken this as its chance to launch its attack. Its club impacted my left hip, but I bore the agony radiating through my body in stride, stored the pain with all the other anguish, and treated the next andthe one after that the same. Since the Ainsprid and the Wailos were still a few paces away, I wasn’t in mortal danger—yet.

As long as the shield around Nayana held strong, I could deal with anything. Latching harder onto her Potential, I pulled, praying to every god and godling in existence that I wasn’t draining her. We’d never tried to uncover the depths of her power, an oversight we had to redeem as soon as we’d leave Alaiann.

Fuck. Between the Ainsprid coming closer and the hematite snuffing out most of the vast power usually at my disposal, which I could sense but not grasp, there was nothing else I could do but to rely on my instincts. So I yanked stronger and faster, trusting I’d simply know if I pushed her too hard. For someone with significant trust issues, I put a lot of faith in hope right now.

Only a show of force could grant me a tiny chance to even out the battlefield. For such an act, I needed to add more power and quicker than the magic vanished. If I took too little or retaliated too early, my efforts would all be in vain.

If only I could get rid of the shackle holding my head in place. Godscursed hematite.

With a roar, I thrust my forehead against the metal, but the fucking thing didn’t budge. Instead, fresh blood trailed into my eyes, tinting my sight crimson.

And then the Wailos was upon me, and its teeth clamped around my right thigh, but in the overall picture, I didn’t even care. As long as the lethal stinger pointed away from me, and the halo of light belonging to the Ainsprid breaking through the red haze of my vision was still some paces away, I could come out on top.No matter how severely my body was mutilated in the process.

More magic raced into me, almost all evaporated soon after, and I thrashed my head back and forth against the shackle until a cracking sound and a lightning bolt running down my spine warned me to stop—in my state and situation, I wouldn’t survive a broken neck.