Page 45 of Ashes of Aether

“Muriz!”I cry. Aether wraps around me.

The ghouls crash into the barrier. Ravenous growls echo through my shield. I hug my knees, staring up at the decayed faces.

I am trapped, surrounded by a horde of undead that seeks to return me to Heston. And that’s if I’m lucky. Maybe they will misinterpret his command and return my half-eaten corpse to him.

And Arluin...

I squeeze my eyes shut, lowering my head.

I fear his fate, and whether I am soon to follow him.

A shadow bolt slams into my shield.

My gaze snaps up. Three wights stand behind the ranks of ghouls. Each uttersrivusin its unnatural voice, and their calls reverberate off the narrow stone walls. A barrage of shadow bolts hurls at me.

My shield won’t hold off their attacks for long. Cracks are already emerging in the crystalline barrier, and it shudders from the bolts of dark magic. Aether dust scatters into the wind.

Then the shield splits apart, falling around me.

And I am left entirely exposed.

I crawl back. The ghouls advance. Scraps of blood and flesh lie between their teeth and under their nails.

I gather more aether, preparing to blast the ghouls nearest me and praying I can also fend off the wights. But before I can, a shout comes from behind.

“Ignira!”

Flames surge forth, taking the shape of an enormous fireball. The spell skims over my head, singeing my hair with how close it sweeps. It slams into the ghouls.

The blast gives me enough time to scramble off the ground and return to my feet. I sprint to my savior, my breaths ragged.

It is my mother who stands there. Her long dark hair and magnificent magi robes flutter in the wind. She raises her hands, weaving aether into a wind spell. “Ventrez!”

A gale throws the undead back.

“Mother!” I choke out, clasping her hands when I reach her. Fresh tears burst from my eyes.

“Reyna!” She clutches me, pulling me into a hug. “Are you hurt?”

I shake my head. Though I’m not physically hurt, the images of Arluin raising the dead, of him falling at his father’s hand, wrack through my heart. And I fear I will never repair.

“Thank the Heavens,” my mother mutters, holding me tighter.

Our embrace is short-lived. The undead climb back onto their rotten feet and lumber toward us. Their blood-curdling howls echo through the night.

My mother pushes me behind her. I peer at the undead beyond, feeling more like a helpless child than a second-year of the Arcanium.

“Gelu’vinclair!”Frost swirls from her fingers and spreads across the street, covering the ground like a thick blanket. The ice winds upward, wrapping around their legs and freezing them in place. The ghouls snap their yellowed teeth at us, but the frozen shackles prevent them from taking another step closer.

Though my mother’s spell renders the ghouls harmless, the wights remain a threat. They call outrivusin their guttural voices and launch shadow bolts at us.

“Tera’muriz!”The ground obeys my mother’s command and rises into a wall of stone. Her earthen shield absorbs the volley of dark magic.

Then she snaps her fingers. “Tera’quatir!”

The stone wall shatters. Rock rains over the undead.

The spell crushes many of our enemies, but more close in from behind.