Rune Mage [Fantasy/Adventure | Book 1 +2 | Complete]

Chapter 86: Harred and Jarsdel

"Let me have a try," said Rowan in a lighthearted tone, as if they were solving some paper puzzle in the newspaper. Maura raised her eyebrow but made no cutting remark. "Mage Ashworth, would you be so kind as to direct red runes straight at the shield?"

"It won't go through, you know," said Ashworth, but obliged, sketching with a chalk-covered hand.

"I know. Keep a constant stream of magic when you hit it, please. As strong as you can get."

Ashworth added empowering sigils and clapped her hands. The rune flashed red. Power erupted from the outlet, striking the dome, scattering ripples along its surface. The prolonging sigils in the rune's locks activated and the burst of energy continued, and the ripplings persisted. Rowan waited. It didn't take long for Portendorfer's inferno to explode again, sending another flurry of ripples that crossed over Ashworth's. Rowan clapped his hands and threw them out. The ground rumbled and a rock tunnel emerged, reaching at the barrier -- and straight through it.

His arms trembled. His breathing became strained as he maintained the burst.

"Burst works?" Seiren said in disbelief. Surely if the shield blocked runes and flash, it could easily block burst as well.

"It's not the burst. There's only so much magic the shield can block. Portendorfer's flash power is insane. We just need enough rune on top. We can overload it." Rowan panted, unable to resist a grin as his eyes gleamed with excitement. With a strained breath, he released the magic. The stones crumbled away and the shield reformed itself. "They're underestimating us."

"And watching us," said Maura in a low voice, which throbbed with fury.

Seiren's back tingled. She turned and met Pollin's dead green eyes. The same pale violet sheen rippled before him as if the illusion was on the brink of failing.

"Come on, Nithercott. If we're to get to Pollin, we need to get through this."

Seiren tugged out her paper and chalk with shaking hands. All around, the scents of sweat, gunpowder, and death were stifling, punctuated with explosions and the rumble of collapsing buildings. All this at the hands of Pollin and the king's mages. She copied the rune she'd seen Ashworth draw, including the same prolonging sigils. With a nod from Ashworth and Maura, she snapped her fingers. Magic infused into the sketch; it glowed red and exploded forwards from the outlet, striking the same site as the others. The next time Portendorfer's flash scorched its surface, the rippling hit a crescendo -- and the shield peeled away.

Rowan clapped his hands. Flames coursed through the hole, encircling the defect, and burst outwards. The shield shimmered and faltered, easing away like flames on paper.

Seiren looked up, sweat trickling down her face. The protective sheen over Pollin flickered away, revealing a second figure standing immediately behind him in his shadows; she couldn't make out his features. Beside Pollin stood a curvy, small woman with dark blonde hair in a side plait, a round face, and the same serious dark brown eyes as Seiren and Madeleine.

The world turned silent around Seiren.

People around spoke words to her, but their voices were far away, drowned in an eternal, deafening ringing. Through the hazy fog, the heated voices began to make sense to Seiren's ears.

"Kristen Harred?!" said Maura in disbelief.

"That treacherous bitch," said Ashworth with vehemence.

"That's not possible," Maura whispered, her icy confidence shattered.

The other mage beside Pollin stepped forward to get a better view. Light fell on a bulbous nose, pockmarked features, and pale eyes against dark skin, one of which was swollen shut and bruised. The fateful night came flooding back to Seiren. The smell of death. Her anguished scream. Madeleine's glassy-eyed stare, lifeless. The wrench of loss tearing through her heart.