Let Me Fly Free (10 page)

Though I’m still furious at Kiri for
spilling my secret—and at the unicorns for keeping me from the
outside world in the first place—I push those thoughts to the back
of my head. I’m not sure why Cyim and Amdyth are allowing me to
hear their conversation, but I’m too curious to question it. At
least they’re worrying about the monster again—as they should be. I
wonder what they plan to do—and whether they’re going to put the
knowledge I brought them to use. I hope they do, so that when this
is all over, I’ll have one more argument for lifting the spell that
binds us here.

Cyim faces the river, a
glimmering black ribbon cutting through the darkness.
If this one has already returned to the ocean via
the river, then casting a spell on the water can prevent its
return. If it has not, then it must eventually
—

He breaks off abruptly, tilting his head
upward. I follow his gaze, wondering what he’s looking for. Seeing
nothing but branches and stars, I realize he is searching with
senses other than his eyes. Whatever it is, Amdyth must feel it
too, for she also seems to gaze into nothingness.

I nudge Kiri. “What’s going on?”

“
I don’t know.” Her voice
is tight.

Flee, children!
Cyim’s voice suddenly rips through my
head.
Leave this place at once!

Gasping, Kiri seizes my hand. She transforms
into the wind and starts to fly away, but instead of following, I
yank back. The urgency in Cyim’s voice must mean he senses that
danger is near, and I’m done with being told to run and hide, of
being sheltered and kept from things I deserve to know and see.
After all I’ve witnessed and all I’ve learned about it, I want to
face this monster myself.

“
Elaia!” Kiri grabs my hand
again.

A great roar abruptly shatters the night—a
sound more menacing than anything I could have imagined. Loud and
coarse and full of wrath—nothing like it has ever struck this place
in my memory.

It sends a bolt of fear through my heart,
and whatever I was thinking before, fleeing suddenly seems like the
only thing to do.

I transform, feeling my legs dissolve into
fire. Before I take off, though, the ominous sound of splashing
water freezes me in place, and my eyes travel toward the river.

A dark, shadowy figure emerges from the
water—barely as tall as me at first, but then rising, rising,
rising to a height that towers over the trees. It pulls itself onto
the shore with multiple curving legs—or rather, tentacles. They
slap the ground as it trundles toward us, shaking the air and
causing the earth to quake. Ronym spoke the truth when he described
this creature; two thick, muscled arms ending in clenched fists
sprout from the broad chest of an ox. Yellow flames spew from the
spikes running down its back, illuminating a head that seems to be
mostly teeth—rows and rows of sharp, glinting teeth. Red eyes glow
above them, fixed on this spot.

My heart hammers as I stare in fear,
disbelief, and fascination at the approaching monstrosity. The
beast we’ve all been dreading has at last shown its hideous
face.

Somewhere in the back
of
my mind, I know Cyim is telling me to run. I know Kiri is yanking
at my hand, trying to make me flee with her. But all that vanishes
behind a strange buzzing in my head as I watch the thlakeen draw
closer. The water dripping from its body does nothing to hinder the
flames erupting from its back, and the light reflecting off its
black scales gives the creature a terrifying glow. A fire just as
powerful erupts in my chest as my heart fills with rage.

This is the monster that
has terrorized my people. Whatever problems I might have with
Kristakai’s laws, this is still
my
home, and this beast must pay for what it
did.

I feel my wrath rush down my arms like two
boiling streams, and the fireballs ignite in my hands almost of
their own will. They leap and crackle as I channel my powers toward
them, building them until they’re each the size of my head.

Somewhere in the distance, someone is
telling me to stop—but all I see is the nearing abomination. Blood
pounds in my ears, and I’m not sure if the red glow around my
vision is from my flaming hair or from the sheer power of my
fury.

Snarling, I hurl both fireballs at the
thlakeen in quick succession. A feral cry escapes my lips, and it
feels good to release it.

My projectiles hit the creature square in
the chest, and it lets out another earth-shaking roar. The next
thing I know, it’s barreling toward me—far faster than I’d
expected. I’d thought its hulking form and slithering movements
meant it was a slow, clumsy creature, but I could not have been
more wrong. In less than two seconds, I find myself wrapped in one
of its cold, slimy tentacles.

I barely have time to gasp before it
staggers backward as though struck through the torso by a battering
ram, releasing me as it struggles to regain its balance. Wind howls
past my ears, yet I feel barely a breeze against my back, and apart
from a few flying leaves, there’s no sign that the gust affected
anything other than the monster.

There’s only one explanation for such a
targeted gale. Whirling, I spot Kiri standing a few feet behind me,
her arms outstretched and her eyes narrowed in concentration. I
take a moment to marvel at this unexpected display of strength—I
thought she would have been long gone by now—then spin to face the
monster, channeling my magic into my hands to create another pair
of fireballs. But I barely have time to let them spark before an
enormous tentacle comes crashing toward me. Startled, I rush out of
the way. Even in my hovering flame form, the abrupt movement throws
me off balance, and I nearly crash into the ground before catching
myself.

A high-pitched scream splits the air, and I
look back to see Kiri flying backward through the air, pushed by an
enormous tentacle. She slams into a tree, then goes limp and drops
to the ground.

“
Kiri!
” I cry.

The tentacle starts to wrap around her
unconscious form, and my rage ignites anew. I aim both hands at
that cursed appendage and muster every ounce of strength I have
into shooting two swirling columns of flames at it. I feel the
strain within me; I’ve never used this much force at once before.
But my anger overwhelms all other senses as I unleash my magic
without mercy.

I will burn the thlakeen until nothing is
left, and I will dance on its ashes.

I’m scarcely aware of my surroundings
anymore. There’s only me and the enemy. Me and the fight. Me and
the power.

The tentacle shrivels under my fire, and the
thlakeen’s agonized cries cause the air to quake. For a brief,
euphoric moment, I taste victory.

The feeling soon splinters as a wave of heat
blasts toward me, engulfing me in yellow and red. The blaze is so
powerful, even I feel its sting upon my skin, like a million tiny
needles pressing into me. Were I not fire as well, I would surely
have been reduced to a crisp. I glance up to the thlakeen’s rows
and rows of teeth, and realize the flames are coming from its
mouth.

I turn my hands toward this new threat and
thrust the columns of fire at the blaze shooting from the
thlakeen’s maw. I’m able to push the monster’s flames off of me,
and their absence makes the air suddenly feel cool. But the
creature doesn’t draw back, and I soon find myself locked in a
contest of strength, with each of us hoping to overpower the other.
Magic pulses through my veins as I press on, but I feel my energy
diminishing. Though I manage to keep the fire strong, my arms begin
to shake from the strain.

Seconds stretch and stretch, each one longer
than the last. My very breath trembles from the effort, and yet the
monster remains as powerful as ever. I feel as if I’m pushing
against a solid rock face, hoping to break it, but am only
fracturing my own bones.

Where are the unicorns? Why do they not help
me fight this creature, and why didn’t they interfere when it
attacked Kiri?

Suddenly, my arms give out. I don’t even
have a chance to stop them; they fly back, overwhelmed by the
thlakeen’s strength, and a great force strikes my chest, sending me
to the ground. The impact ripples through my back, and the next
thing I know, I’m lying spread-eagle on the grass, staring up at a
pair of menacing red eyes.

Yet the flames have vanished. For some
reason, though the thlakeen won our contest, it chose not to try
incinerating me. Perhaps it realized that it could not. Whatever
the case, I’m not about to wait and see what it will do.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as I
scramble to get up, but before I can stand, an enormous hand clasps
my middle, thick and rough with scales. An involuntary yelp escapes
me as I find myself once again in the thlakeen’s grip. The rank
smell of salt and rot rises from the monster’s slimy flesh, and I
gag. Panic seizes me as I struggle to escape, but none of my
flailing does any good.

The thlakeen lifts me toward its revolting
face and opens its mouth, which is as wide as a cave. The stench of
its breath is so putrid, my eyes tear up. An ominous red light
glows at the back of its black throat, behind the unforgiving
teeth.

It suddenly hits me that I’m being an idiot;
why the blazes am I still in my solid form when I can transform
into flames?

I change at once, feeling my body dissolve
into heat and light. Free of physical confines, I pass right
through the monster’s fist, scorching it as I flee, and zoom
through the air, thinking only to get away from the thing that
wants to crush me in its jaws and swallow my life.

“
Cyim!
” I call, wondering why neither he nor Amdyth has
interfered.

Then, to my shock, solid claws close around
my body once again, nearly squeezing the breath out of me.
Wondering how this is possible when I’m still in my ethereal form,
I fight to escape. I flame and flame in every direction, trying to
burn my way to freedom. But the thlakeen’s powers are somehow able
to grip me even in this state, and whatever vulnerability I
exploited when I incinerated its tentacle seems to have
vanished.

What monstrous horror is this? What mighty
power can grip fire itself and not even flinch at the heat?

I cast fireball after fireball at the fist
clutching me, all the while wriggling and twisting in an effort to
get out. All logic seems to have vanished from my head; the only
thing I know is that I have get out … get out … get out…

The grip around me abruptly vanishes, and I
find myself tumbling through the air as the monster roars in fury.
I catch myself and hover midair, panting and wondering what just
happened.

A shaft of white light catches my eye, and I
glimpse Cyim standing before the thlakeen, shooting a beam of magic
from his golden horn straight into the monster’s chest. A
combination of relief and confusion rattles through my head. Where
was he before, when Kiri and I were battling the creature alone?
Where is Amdyth?

The latter question is soon answered as my
gaze falls upon a soft white glow some distance behind where Cyim
stands. But it’s not only Amdyth’s light I see; six other unicorns
stand beside her, each a different pastel shade—lavender, rose,
peach, canary, and periwinkle—except one, whose coat is twilight
blue. Together, they form the colors of the early dawn, pale hues
blending into one another until they reach the retreating night.
Horns of gold and silver glitter with the spell they’re generating,
and I wonder why they do not cast it. The thlakeen is right in
front of them—what are they waiting for?

Run, child!
Cyim’s voice rings through my head. Yet behind
the command, I hear something I’ve never heard before from him:
fear.

And despite the terror that just moments ago
would have had me obeying all too quickly, I cannot leave him.
Though his powers are far greater than mine, this beast has already
proven itself a more formidable threat than I could ever have
imagined. Now that the immediate danger has shifted away from me,
my panic gives way to a fresh wave of rage. This monster has
terrorized my people and wounded my lover, and now it seeks to
destroy my Terrene Father. I won’t let it win.

Go!
Cyim orders, but instead, I wind up for another fireball. I
don’t know what the other unicorns are waiting for, but perhaps
between the two of us, we can destroy this creature once and for
all.

The thlakeen spits a column of fire toward
Cyim, but the flames slide harmlessly off the bubble of light
surrounding the unicorn. I smirk. An Infernal monster is no match
for a Celestial being. It will not drive Cyim into the ground as it
did to me, and with it distracted, I can make my move.