Orden crept into the main chamber. He guessed he was somewhere inside Death Mountain and the cathedral-like chamber seemed empty. The gem in his hand burned without pain. “Zeldra? Zeldra, where are you?”
“I’m up here!” Her voice wailed, tiny in the cavernous space.
The top row of balconies, and he had no way up there. Orden clenched his teeth. Maybe his refusal to use any magic was slightly unreasonable. Zoe would have a magic rope or lasso or maybe even a ladder in her pouch. His heart thudded. Don’t stop to think about Zoe now. Get Zeldra out of here, make amends, and then find Zoe.
A purple bolt of energy whistled through the air. Orden jumped before it hit the floor right where he had stood.
Agmaraa’s red gown fluttered as she settled on a broken stalagmite. “I tried to kill you much too slow last time, Orden, and that was because you attacked me and I wasted too much time relishing in revenge. I’m not making that mistake this time.” Another purple blot flew from her hand.
An orange glow surrounded him and repulsed it. “Is that the best you can do, witch?” He gripped his sword and the gem tighter, then dashed toward her stalagmite.
“So you found magic? It will not aid you, you’re no half-blood of anything!” The purple stream from her hands resembled fire.
It wrapped around Orden. He dropped to his knees under the assault. The orange glow around him weakened, letting more of the pain through. He dropped his sword and clutched the gem to his chest. The air thickened like he was in the center of an inferno, but he found enough to draw in and scream. “Girlwithsword!”
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