Twisting Every Way

Chapter 15

Emya tried to push the Shadow out of the way and duck as Kamala swung at her. The punch missed her but struck the Shadow so hard that he tumbled from her grip and fell into the dirt.

Kamala brushed past Emya, kicking the shadow, screaming incoherently. Grabbing the woman by her dress, Emya hauled her away.

The spell gave Kamala strength beyond that of the Kings. It took all Emya's might to keep the flailing woman at bay, her grasp slipping. Emya summoned her magic and willed the woman to sleep. She hadn't expected it to work, not with so much of her concentration focused on restraining Kamala, but to her intense relief, Kamala suddenly slumped to the ground, snoring gently. Emya had no time to analyze her sudden magical prowess. No doubt it was related to the object or the magic saturating the festival. She hurried over to where the Shadow was still curled in the dirt.

"You have to get up." He flinched when she grabbed him by the arm, curling in tighter. "We have to keep going," she urged.

He wouldn't budge and Emya couldn't carry him. She knelt next to him. "It's okay," she said gently, "no one's going to hurt you anymore, but you have to get up."

After a moment, his eyes blinked open and he relaxed enough to let Emya help him sit up. Gingerly touching the back of his head, he winced and examined the blood that stained his fingers.

"She's strong," he murmured dimly, wiping the blood on his shirt. Emya helped him to his feet and on they stumbled out of the market and onto the road.

They stopped. Without knowing where the object was, they risked passing out again if they went too far—assuming the Kings were still in the village. It was time to summon the object, but Emya faltered. Her hastily constructed plan had several holes in it. Assuming the Shadow knew where to go from there, she had no idea what lay between them and their first destination, the neighboring village. More concerning were the Kings. Even if she managed to summon the object from them, it was only a matter of time before they noticed, she, the Shadow, and the object were all gone.

The Shadow broke out in another coughing fit. He clung to her, convulsing violently, spewing flecks of blood. This was his only chance and likely hers as well. She would have more time as they slowly drained the magic from her, but there was no guarantee she would ever have another chance to escape.

"Alright," she said. "What do I have to do?"

"Call the object in the ancient tongue. You have to picture it in your head when you call."

He said the words slowly and clearly. They weren't long or hard to pronounce. She called the magic inside her said the words out loud while picturing the object in her head, willing it to leave the Kings and come to her. Nothing happened.

"Glaiuad tugum erotude."

"It didn't work," the Shadow said flatly. "You're too inexperienced"

"Well you do it then," Emya said desperately.

"I don't have the strength. Try again."

Emya said the words once more. Again and again she said the words. She'd worried so much about what they would do when she got the object that she hadn't considered what failing to do so meant. She hadn't pictured walking back through the village to the throne room, praying the Kings hadn't noticed. Now she was paralyzed with fear at the realization. They couldn't go back. They were so close to being free.

"Running away?" A cool, familiar voice said.

Azo appeared before them from the shadows of the festival.