Page 90 of Secrets of Avalon

“I–can’t. What is this? What’s happening?”

“Use Siva. Hold your magick back. I have to fight.” I tighten my grip on her, scanning for an escape route, but there’s only murky black fog.

“I’m trying!”

A massive golem made of the dark cloud, easily twice the size of the others, barrels towards us. I try to wheel our stallion away, but we're not fast enough. Its fist connects with our mount, knocking it sideways and us airborne.

The world spins. I curl my body around Melinda, desperate to shield her from the fall. We hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. Pain explodes across my back, but there's no time to recover.

Fuck.

I stagger to my feet, hauling Melinda up with me. "Stay close." I unsheathe my sword and turn to face down the approaching golem. Using my weapon to focus my magick instead of my hands, I cleave the golem in half, but it does nothing. It's like fighting smoke – my attacks pass through with little effect.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I grab Melinda’s hand and pull her into a run. We have to use magick against magick. “Weapons don’t work!” I shout into the dark fog.

I grab Melinda's hand and pull her into a run. Her magick pulses against my skin, a constant, low-grade ache that I push to the back of my mind. We have to use magick against magick. "Weapons don't work!" I shout into the dark fog. I have to warn the others.

All around us, chaos reigns. Sirens scream. Drakonii roar. Elven arrows whistle through the darkness, but the arrows don’t catch. Nothing physical can touch them. Even though they can easily touch us.

I cover Melinda with my body and throw up a shield. The golem following us strikes again and hits the shield so hard the impact jars my entire body. My muscles and my mind scream in protest, holding the magick in place.

"Hawke!" She points to the left.

I look up. Another large golem has joined and is punching the shield from the other side.

We're being overwhelmed. Sweat stings my eyes as I pour everything I have into the shield. But I don’t have much left.

A familiar roar cuts through the din of battle. Fen, in his massive wolf form, leaps over us. He tackles a golem about to flank us, his jaws clamping down on its nebulous form. But even his enormous strength isn't enough to turn the tide. He snaps at air and the golems just keep going.

A bright iridescent white power flares through the fog, irradiating it with a blast of light that forces me to squeeze my eyes shut. The intense brightness penetrates even my closed eyelids, and a wave of warmth washes over my skin. The oppressive pressure of the dark fog lifts, replaced by a tingling sensation in the air.

Melinda gasps beside me, her hand tightening in mine.

I cautiously open my eyes, blinking against the lingering spots in my vision. The fog has dissipated, leaving the air clear and shimmering with residual magic.

The puppeteer is several lengths away. He raises his hands and his eyes blaze with an otherworldly light. The air itself seems to bend around him. Reality warps and shimmers, and the golems closest to him begin to... unravel. There's no other word for it. They dissolve into wisps of shadow that dissipate on the wind.

The golems attacking my shield turn and run toward the puppeteer. A flicker of relief washes over me, but it's quickly tempered by caution. Is this a temporary reprieve, or have we truly gained the upper hand?

I pull Melinda close, a surge of protectiveness mingling with a growing sense of dread. My magick falters, the shield flickering before it vanishes completely. A cold sweat breaks out across my skin.

I have nothing left.

The realization hits me like a physical blow. I won't be able to use magick again until I find a well and refill. Vulnerability, an alien sensation for a warrior like me, creeps through my veins.

The chimera-man moves with fluid grace, each gesture precise and purposeful. Where his magic touches, the golems simply cease to be.

As the immediate threat diminishes, I scan the battlefield, my heart racing. Where are my brothers-in-arms? Through the dissipating darkness, I catch glimpses of them: Ares, is sheathing his sword. Boaz helping an Elf to his feet. Wraith materializes from the shadows of some trees, his eyes alert. Fen walks behind him. Relief washes over me.

I turn back to the chimera-man—the puppeteer. After the last of the golems fall, the man turns his attention to the roiling cloud of darkness still left in the sky above. He speaks words in a language I don't understand, and his voice resonates with a magick I’ve never seen. The darkness in the sky recoils like it was physically struck, slowly leaving us in dawns dim light. Avalon’s manufactured sunrise is still a couple hours away.

A wave of profound gratitude washes over me. We made it. All of us. The unity of these diverse beings, standing together against a common enemy, stirs something deep within me. Pride, perhaps, or hope.

Yet, exhaustion is etched into every line of their bodies. Shoulders sag, hands tremble, and eyes blink slowly as the adrenaline begins to fade. I feel it too–a bone-deep weariness that makes even standing an effort.

I squeeze Melinda's hand, drawing strength from her presence, but I know in my gut that this is only the beginning of the fight.