Page 82 of Us in Ruins
Astrid shoved Margot aside, sprinting deeper into the temple on her own. The look of wonder that streaked across Astrid’s face, Margot knew she’d worn it, too. It was impossible not to revel in it—a temple worthy of the goddess of beauty.
Frescoes danced overhead: nymphs weaving through greenery; soldiers with their swords; poets writing on tablets; and a widow, mourning. Margot followed the paintings like an atlas, letting them lead her deeper into the temple. She tried to appreciate it because as soon as this was over, she never wanted to come back to this place ever again.
Dashing forward, Astrid said, “You can decide amongst yourselves who’s getting turned to stone because frankly, I don’t think I care.”
“Astrid, slow down,” Margot said.
“Well, it’s not like you didn’t know someone was getting sacrificed,” she huffed. “And we left Enzo back there.”
Margot laughed because otherwise she was going to cry. “Yeah, because it’s not nice to sacrifice people on the third date.”
“Suit yourself,” she heard Astrid grumble.
As she drove toward the altar at the far end, Astrid missed the way the shadows shifted in the corner of the temple, but Margot didn’t. Marble bones creaked behind her. She didn’t need to look to know that each sharpened arrowhead was aimed straight for their hearts.
Van froze next to Margot. “Ashby, stop moving.”
She turned on her heels, already annoyed. “If you’re getting cold feet, don’t blame—”
Terra loosed his arrow, and it pierced the air next to Astrid. Paling, she let out a mouselike squeak.
The guardians’ stone bodies had awoken quicker than they had the first time Margot had entered this temple. With all five shards here, the magic was more potent, more dangerous.
“They don’t want you,” Margot said as calmly as someone about to get Boromired could. “They want the shards.”
“Okay, and? What do you want me to do? Fight them? I’m not an idiot.” Astrid bolted, shooting toward the staircase to the second-floor balcony. She took the stairs two at a time, but it wasn’t going to be fast enough. Terra nocked another arrow, and it split the wall behind her, only narrowly missing her thigh.
Then the statue jolted forward, following Astrid. Ignis joined him up the stairs, cutting Margot and Van off. Their stone bodies moved unnaturally, too stiff in the knees, too rigid in the elbows.
Margot pressed her back flush with Van’s. She grabbed one of the tools from Van’s belt, a pointed shovel. As if that was going to be enough to fend the statues off. They rotated, trying to keep eyes on the rest of the guardians at once.
Aqua, Aura, and Mors surrounded them. Not to fight, she realized. The guardians were herding them, keeping Van and Margot away from Astrid and her shards.
“She’s right. We can’t win against them,” Margot gasped. A plan formulated in her head—something Astrid said locking into place. “But they can fight each other. We split up, make them aim at each other, and let them destroy themselves.”
“Genius,” Van said between breaths.
Margot counted down from three—starting with three, of course—and then she and Van darted opposite directions. Mors followed him, and Aqua tailed her, while Aura planted himself firmly in the center of the temple, releasing stone arrows toward both sides.
Ahead, Astrid rounded the balcony, bobbing and weaving between pillars as she tried to outrun the guardians. Margot surged closer, trying to position herself in line with Ignis. Aqua took aim, and Margot steadied herself. Heart pounding against her ribs, she waited, waited, waited.
The moment his carved fingers released the bow, she ducked. The arrow whooshed overhead. It struck stone with a crack. Looking back, the arrow had wedged itself in Ignis’s arm. Crevices formed on the surface of the guardian’s skin, the way Magic Shell cracked on top of vanilla ice cream. His arm crumbled to dust, landing in a heap by his feet.
“Yes!” Margot whooped, but her cheer was short-lived. Terra refocused on Margot, sandwiching her very literally between a rock and a hard place. “Never mind. Too soon.”
On the other side of the temple, Mors lurched toward Van. He dragged an arrow out of his sheath, and pulled his bowstring back. Van dodged left, and the arrow zipped across the temple, grazing Aqua’s leg.
Margot dove toward the nearest pillar. Terra and Aqua paced toward her from either side. An arrow slammed into the column, chipping marble off the side, and she hunkered down lower. Panic writhed in her chest, but she breathed it out through her nose. You can do this.
A scream interrupted Margot’s pep talk.
Across the balcony, Ignis, with his one arm, had Astrid cornered. Margot couldn’t sit here and do nothing—she wasn’t like Astrid. She’d never be able to sleep at night if she knew someone had gotten hurt because she’d done nothing. Even if that someone was Astrid Ashby.
“Please don’t make me regret this,” Margot muttered.
She raced toward Astrid, sliding between Terra’s legs like a softball shortstop. She watched over her shoulder as the guardians couldn’t course correct fast enough, and Aqua barreled into Terra. They ricocheted off each other, Terra crashing into the wall and Aqua into one of the pillars.
Ahead, Ignis held an arrow in his fist, poised over his shoulder. It happened too fast, a scene from a movie: Ignis slammed his hand down, Astrid skirted left, and the arrow’s dagger-sharp point skimmed her cheek, drawing a scrape of blood to the surface. She clutched the linen bag with the shards to her chest, shrinking herself into the corner. There was nowhere else for her to go.