I was on board with that, as well. We made our way out of the palace through a secret staircase that Medina had cleared for us. It led to a small back door on the north side of the palace, straight through the homestead gardens that supplied the emperor’s kitchen with fruits and vegetables. We put the monogramed hoods on, making sure our faces couldn’t easily be seen. Just like Medina had promised, the Imperial sigils were extremely helpful—as soon as the Cerixians saw them, military and civilian alike, they moved out of our way.
Once we reached the northern palace gates, Riza stopped. “We should teleport straight to Mollyn from here,” she said, glancing back at the sumptuous building with its sprawling gardens and blossoming orchards. “Medina will know we’re up to something if we go there the old-fashioned way.”
“Good point. It speeds things along, too,” I said.
We checked the map again, making sure I had a clear estimated distance for us to teleport across. We linked hands, and moments later, the northwestern mountains of Samotarcis towered in front of us. Their sharp snowcaps pierced the clouds, and their ridges snaked down toward us, covered in thick, dark green forests. Eagle-like birds squawked in the distance as they circled around the mountain tops.
The air felt different here. It was heavy and cold, downright difficult to breathe. Coming down from the mountains, a river made its way through the woods and the gray limestone clusters, turning left and right until it widened into a massive lake, just a hundred yards south of where we’d appeared. Tall trees surrounded that tear-shaped body of water, from which the river continued to flow, reaching for the distant ocean. I could see a thin band of dark blue on the horizon, waiting to welcome the mountainous stream.
“I think that was Mollyn,” Amelia said, pointing at a rocky formation less than a mile from the lake. It made sense that people would’ve chosen to live here, at the base of the mountains and so close to a source of fresh water. “Look at the layout.”
It certainly resembled the descriptions of Mollyn we’d read. Only the foundations remained from that ancient city—long and broad lines of yellowed stone, eroded by time and countless rains and winds. It had once been home to maybe a thousand early Cerixians, thriving in the mountain’s shade. A modern city rose about two miles north, partially built up the mountain and named after the ancient site. The new Mollyn was big and proud, its silvery turrets gleaming in the sunlight.
“Yeah, that’s it,” I said, and Eira nodded in agreement. She gave me a curious look.
“Anything?”
“Anything what?” I asked.
Lumi scoffed. “The scythe, Tae. It should be reacting.”
Fallon nervously glanced around, while Varga used his True Sight to analyze the area properly. None of us were comfortable here. There was a sense of trouble coming our way, even though we couldn’t see or hear much of it.
I brought the scythe up and checked it. The blade retained its peculiar glimmer, the handle humming softly, but not stronger than usual. I shook my head. “This isn’t the place,” I said.
“Which makes sense. Why would Medina send us to the right location?” Eira grumbled and cleared her throat. “Something doesn’t feel right here.”
“It shouldn’t,” Varga said, his gold eyes fixed on something deep in the woods behind us. “We’ve got company.”
“Cerixian or pink water abominations?” Amelia replied, one hand up and ready to whip out the pulverizer weapon. We’d come fully prepared this time. While none of our tricks could fight the Hermessi off, we could still use them against their meatier underlings, Shills and cult members alike.
“Erm, both,” Varga mumbled, the color gradually leaving his cheeks.
“As expected, there is a welcoming party,” Herakles said.
“Everybody, link hands,” I replied. “We need to let them get close enough before we zap out. The more confused they are, the better.”
The crew did as asked, our hands connected. I measured my breaths carefully, watching the shrubs and trees shudder as hostile creatures made their way through, toward us. Spine-tingling roars echoed from the shadows. Messages for us. We heard their rapid footsteps and heavy paws across the ground, breaking twigs along the way. A crackle here, a thump there, just enough to fill us with dread.
I wondered how much they all understood about our abilities, since they seemed so determined to destroy us.
“Everybody, stand your ground,” Lumi said.
One by one, Shills emerged from the woods, as hideous as ever. Strings of drool hung from their gaping jaws, their many eyes wide and focused on us, their claws scraping at the dirt as they hurdled toward us. There were hundreds of them, all racing for the grand prize—our hides.
Behind them, cult members came out, fireballs forming in their bare hands. Despite GASP’s efforts to clamp down on the movement, there seemed to be more of them than before, and it scared me beyond comprehension. I simply couldn’t accept that, no matter how hard we fought them, they would keep coming, in greater numbers.
They hurled their fireballs at us, but Lumi, Acantha, and Nethissis cast out a protective bubble. The flames hit the invisible membrane, each impact causing ripples across the surface.
“Just a little bit longer,” I whispered, already envisioning BemHur and its five-million-year-old temple.
The Shills snarled as they closed in on us. My pulse raced, blood frantically pumping through my veins. We had all known it would get to this, and there was worse to come. We’d prepared for pretty much anything—except for the moment one of us would try to pick up Eirexis, once we found it. Provided we survived the Hermessi’s attacks, that was going to be our greatest challenge. But we’d come too far. My mind refused the mere concept of defeat.
“Now, Tae!” Lumi shouted. “Now!”
Just as the Shills pounced on our protective bubble, I zapped us out of there and across the continent. The Shills would’ve gotten past the swamp witch spells—if not immediately, they would tear them down eventually, because they had strength in numbers. I’d felt the winds rise just before I teleported us away. The Hermessi had been closing in on us, too. We’d gotten out in the nick of time.
We appeared about two miles away from the BemHur Temple. It had been built on the sharp eastern ridge of White Peak, the tallest of the mountains in this region. Beyond them, the ocean spread out like a dark blue blanket, waves crashing against the rocky shores.
It was quiet—but not tranquil. No, the silence here… it was troubling. Something clawed at my stomach, my instincts flaring as we took a moment to analyze the area. BemHur was merely a pile of cubic stones, the few that had withstood the passage of time. According to the old local legends, which Eira had read up on, the temple had once sported proud towers that overlooked the entire area.
“There are catacombs beneath it, said to lead straight to the ocean,” Eira said, breathing heavily. Our close proximity to the Shills earlier had rattled her. “Beyond the mountains, lies the rosy fish colony.”
“There’s the town,” Riza said, pointing at a small settlement not far from the temple and White Peak Mountain. A serpentine road connected the two, and we could see movement there—Cerixians moving back and forth, likely locals and travelers combined, since BemHur had always been a popular tourist attraction, according to the books.
“Okay, we’ve made it this far,” I replied. “I think the hard part is just beginning.”
My hand vibrated, reminding me that I was still holding the scythe, and that it was reacting to something. Excitement thrummed inside me, burning with baffling velocity as I observed the brighter glow of the curved blade.
Amelia gasped. “Tae… It’s got to be here,” she said, gaze fixed on the scythe.
“Yeah, this definitely didn’t happen before,” I murmured. The vibrations were stronger, making my entire arm buzz and sending tendrils of warm familiarity through me, as if Eirexis itself was calling out to me.
But a sound spread across the sky above us, and I knew that something terrible was coming for us. Looking up, I felt my whole body stiffen, the muscles so tense that they hurt. A black, humming cloud unraveled, filled with billions of tiny black dots. They moved together in scary unison, making their formation look like a massive blanket that fluttered in the intensifying wind.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” I heard Herakles say.
“What the hell are those?” Amelia asked.
