The massive discharge of magical energy had taken its toll on Solène—she was wavering on her feet as she recovered from the strain of the magic she had just shaped. Pharadon rushed to her side. With the dragon in human form, Gill knew that for the next few moments, he was on his own. There was a good chance the fight wouldn’t last much longer than that.
He roared at the next group of Venori and rushed at the nearest. It jinked out of the way of his thrust, but Gill kept going, cutting deep into the one that had been behind it. The creature reacted to the touch of Telastrian steel the same way the others had, hissing in agony as its vitality quickly drained away.
One jumped on Gill’s back, sending him staggering. He could feel the creature’s breath on his neck as he twisted, trying to shake it off. No matter what he did, he couldn’t throw it clear. He started to feel tired, as though his heart was struggling to find the energy to beat, and panic flashed through him as he realised what was happening.
He ran backwards with everything he had and slammed into the cavern wall. The Venori hissed, but still it clung tight. It didn’t seem to be feeding off him anymore, but the sight of him weighed down with one of their kind was an invitation to others, who rushed toward him.
Again he bashed the one on his back against the cavern wall, while attempting to swing his sword at the two approaching from in front. His movements were restricted by the grasping demon on his back, and the ones in front were being a little more cautious. By now the Venori knew what his blade was made of and that he didn’t need to make a killing strike to finish them with it.
Gill slammed the demon on his back against the wall one last time, then pulled the dagger from his belt with his free hand. It wasn’t Telastrian steel, so he didn’t know if it was a futile gesture. He stabbed at the Venori clinging to him as best he could, while waving his sword menacingly before him. The dagger connected with something fleshy and Gill dug it in as hard as he could.
His hand grew wet with whatever the Venori had for blood; the creature loosened its grip as it sought to get away from his blade. One more bash against the wall and it was off. He spun fast, whipping his sword around, then across the demon’s flesh. Its scream of agony was enough to tell Gill that he could return his attention to the other two.
Whether enraged by the death of their comrade or overcome by their hunger, they launched themselves at Gill. The first was easy to deal with—it was moving forward with such speed that Gil cut clean through its midsection. The second was on him then, bowling him over backwards. Morning left Gill’s grip with a clatter. He got to his hands and knees and scrabbled about for it in the gloom, finding it just as the creature leaped onto his back. The impact knocked the sword farther from Gill’s grasp. He managed to hold on to his dagger, though, so rolled over, pinning the demon beneath him.
The Venori didn’t seem to pay the blade any attention—all it was interested in was pulling Gill close enough to feed. It might not have feared regular steel the way it did the Telastrian variety, but Gill could cause plenty of mischief with it. He plunged the blade into the demon’s throat up to the hilt, then pulled it sideways, severing all but a chunk of its neck, then hacked through the rest. Relieving the demon of its head seemed to do the job, as the body went slack.
Gill grabbed his sword and jumped to his feet. Solène had a pile of bodies around her now—more than Gill could claim, but he was happy to concede the tally to her, so long as she was recovered from her initial effort, and they got out alive. There were not many left—only two that Gill could make out. It looked like they’d managed to get the upper hand, but it wasn’t time to relax just yet.
Gill joined the others, cutting down the last two Venori while their attention was fixed on Pharadon.
“Might be time to make a run for it,” Gill said. No sooner had he spoken than the sound of charging feet echoed into the chamber from any number of directions. “Gods alive, how many of these things are there?”
“More than I could ever have imagined,” Pharadon said. He drew one of the Cups from his cloak, crouched, and filled it with water from a cave pool. “One day soon, your kind will have to confront them, but for now, you must run.”
Solène felt a chill of fear run through her. She was torn between wanting to ask why, and not wanting to have the answer she already knew confirmed.
“The passage we entered through is clear,” Pharadon said, “but there are many coming from deeper in the mountain. Too many. They will catch you, and kill us all.” He lifted the Cup to his lips, drained it. He let out the sigh of a thirsty man refreshed, then dropped it to the floor. Reaching into his cloak again, he pulled out the last two Cups and offered them to Solène. “You must promise me two last favours. Enlighten the goldscale.”
“I’ve no idea how,” she said. “Why can’t you do it?”
“I’ve done most of it,” Pharadon said. “All that remains is for her to drink from the Cup. That is the spark that will light the fire. The goldscale is far enough along the path that she will accept the Cup willingly, but there is one condition.”
“What?”
“That it is offered by one of the enlightened.”
The colour drained from Solène’s face.
“I can’t. I don’t want it.”
“You are so close to enlightenment that this will make almost no difference. It will only free you from the fear of destroying yourself with your own power.”
Solène shook her head. “That fear is what lets me know magic will never be the ruin of me.”
Pharadon smiled grimly. “Using the Cup will also stop anyone else from obtaining its power.”
Solène opened her mouth, but said nothing.
“The Fount has already called to you, Solène,” Pharadon said. “It told you at the temple. ‘In this place we are one.’ You can be one with it, in this life and the after. Have faith in yourself. Enlightenment is meant for you. I beg you. Do this one thing for me. Save the last of my kind from ferity.”
Solène swallowed hard. It made sense, and as noble a thought as her fear of magic being a good thing for her was, she knew it was naive. They day would come when she would regret turning down the benefits enlightenment would bring her. If it was as Pharadon said, and she already enjoyed most of the power it offered, why not have the safety benefits it brought also? She reached out and took the Cup, her decision made. “Now?”
“Is there ever a better time? The water is brackish, but it will not do you any harm.”
Solène knelt and filled the Cup. She hesitated for barely a moment, then threw the contents down her throat and grimaced. It was salty and bitter, but no more than unpleasant—certainly nothing that would make her ill. She took a breath, wiped her mouth, then stood.
“Is that it? I don’t feel any diff—”
The world flashed blue—the world, for she could see it all. More than see it, she could feel it, hear its beating heart as though it were a living thing, as though each living creature was part of one single entity. Everything seemed so simple in that moment. Solène remembered the voice in the temple—or perhaps she was hearing that same voice again now, it was difficult to tell. In this place we are one. Everything truly was one at that moment. All the differences and squabbles and rivalries of the world seemed utterly foolish and trivial.
The Fount surged and swirled within her, not like an untamed external force that she needed to tap into, as it had been, but as though it was part of her. Not just subject to her will, it was her will. It was like music and the touch of the sun on a warm day combined. It imparted a feeling of joy unlike any she had ever known.